At night, in the large bed in the hotel, Zhou Jiao held Little Jiu, gently patting the Little Jiu who was tightly clinging to her, and continued to whisper softly.
—She pretended not to see the child's quiet tears, but inside, her heart was filled with bitterness.
In a foreign country, all alone, the little girl faced language barriers and complex relationships, feeling utterly helpless.
She once felt like a floating duckweed, without roots, drifting aimlessly, unable to find a reason for living.
The world she perceived seemed full of malice against her.
National Day to Little Jiu was like when she met Zhang Guoqing, similar feelings, Zhou Jiao understood well what kind of lifeline this was.
Living is frightening if one has no anchoring in their heart or goals to pursue.
The next day, Zhou Jiao privately approached her son to have a sincere discussion with him.
