"Isn't this not so good?" The little girl's hair in his hand, she had no way to turn her head to see his expression.
He didn't speak, so she kept asking.
His mind was entirely on her braid, he couldn't tie it right no matter how he tried, and after a while he finally answered, "When we go back, I'll talk to Big Brother. If he asks, just don't answer."
Honestly, whoever says it, for whatever reason, it won't do any good.
Big Brother knows it like the back of his hand, he knows it's her intention.
"Alright then, thank you, Third Brother."
"Are you done yet?"
She uncomfortably shifted her hair, probably because he accidentally pulled it.
That day he had no choice, he ended up giving her two uneven pigtails. Fortunately, she didn't see them herself at the time, or she'd probably rip off the hair accessories and throw them in his face.
Since then, he started intentionally or unintentionally learning how to braid her hair.
But over the years, it hasn't been useful again.
