Zhao Qing giggled and pounced on Juhua, hugging her legs and refusing to let go. Her soft little body bumped against Juhua, making her heart soften as well. The little girl was wearing a lightly worn set of small purple clothes that she had just changed into this morning, and they were still relatively clean for now. Her chubby, baby-faced cheeks were a bit tanned from the sun—how could they not be when she was darting about everywhere in this weather?—and the two little braids on top of her head were crooked and messy.
Juhua couldn't help but sigh at the sight. 'When Aunt Zhao gets busy, she doesn't have time to look after her. Her hair is a complete mess. It would have been better to not have combed it at all.'
