Diwu Zexuan spoke as he placed Meimei on the ground and took her small hand in his large one.
It wasn't until they entered the room that Diwu Zexuan closed the door, his imposing figure leaning against the doorframe, long fingers moving to lock the door.
Carrying the medicine box, he strode to the sofa, set it down, and sat on the sofa.
Before he could speak, Meimei took the initiative to walk up to him, climbing up his thigh to sit in his lap.
She sat there steadily.
"Does Meimei have something on her mind to tell Uncle?" Diwu Zexuan looked at Meimei, whose little face tightened the moment no one was around, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Meimei hasn't been good..."
Meimei lowered her little head, her small hands nervously twisting together. She glanced at Diwu Zexuan then silently lowered her head again, biting her small lips.
"Not been good?"
Diwu Zexuan's eyes flashed, not rushing to ask more but instead staring at the back of her head, quietly waiting.
