"Back in Nanyuan, everyone called me a wild child," Ye Qianning said suddenly in a quiet voice.
Xiang Minghou's heart clenched when he heard this.
Old Master Zhan froze as well.
"When they insulted me, I'd hit them back. When they couldn't win, they'd run home to tell on me to their fathers, and then their fathers would come and hit me. Every time I got hit, I'd wonder... 'If I had a father, would he stand up for me? Would he be like their fathers...?'" Ye Qianning murmured, recalling memories from her childhood.
Pangtuan was a rather sensitive child. Though she said she didn't need a father, deep down, she desperately wanted one.
Xiang Minghou's eyes grew red as he listened, and he was filled with self-reproach. One could only imagine what life was like for a child without a father's protection.
