An eight-year-old kid emptied his scumbag father's warehouse and followed his grandparents into

Chuyi and Zhengyue straightened their backs, not daring to breathe. Chuyi's Adam's apple rolled, and Zhengyue's fingertips dug into his palm, but their eyes remained firm.

Kuaijiao snorted coldly, the sound coming out of his nose, full of disdain: "Compared to the masters out there, you are still far behind!"

He suddenly raised his voice, shaking the window paper. "If you don't stay alert, you won't be able to withstand two blows from others, let alone protect your master! So—" He raised his voice sharply, practically shouting the last word, "Whenever you have time along the way, you must practice!"

"Finally, there are two more words:" He held up two fingers, their knuckles thick and covered with calluses, "and that's 'obey.'"

The last sentence resonated so powerfully that the teacups on the table shook, creating tiny ripples in the water. Chuyi and Zhengyue kowtowed once more, their foreheads clacking against the ground with a distinct clatter. "Yes!" Their voices carried the youthful vigor of youth, yet also an undeniable resolve.

When Jing Chunxi saw this scene, he knew why his master stopped him from speaking. His master was actually arranging people to build momentum for her.

Suddenly I felt that this trip to Lingnan might be more interesting than I had imagined.

Her eyes swept over Chuyi's tall back, Zhengyue's drooping neck, and Kuaijiao's lean yet powerful body. A thought gradually became clear in her mind: her own team would soon grow stronger.

Before dinner, Wutou came, carrying a big bulging bag. The bag looked heavy and was wrapped in a brand new blue cloth.

The afterglow of the setting sun shone obliquely onto his body through the courtyard gate, casting a long shadow on the ground, making him look particularly lonely.

Seeing him, Jing Chunxi immediately put down her needlework and rushed over to him. She noticed that Wutou seemed to be in a heavy mood, and her heart couldn't help but tighten.

"Brother Wutou..." She greeted him softly and led him into her room. Jing Qiurong and Pu Ge'er immediately followed him in and closed the door.

Jing Qiurong's gaze followed Wutou, his heavy steps and lowered head, and her heart felt as if something was tugging at her. Pu Ge'er seemed a little bewildered, standing aside, rubbing his fingers, his eyes flickering between Wutou and his sister.

"Aunt." Datou bowed respectfully, his voice so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable. He turned back to face the two of them, his movements as mechanical as a puppet. "Cousin Xi, Pu Ge'er."

His lips trembled, and he seemed to be about to say something, but suddenly, like a flood bursting through a dam, tears began to flow down. The tears rolled down in large drops, hitting the ground with a slight sound that was particularly clear in the quiet room.

"Wutou, don't cry. Auntie understands. Don't cry." Jing Qiurong's voice suddenly choked. Seeing Wutou's silent tears pouring down her face, her heart ached like a knife. This child, who usually pretended to be strong, now looked as helpless as a lost animal.

She thought of what happened to her family during the exile, and those tragic experiences flashed through her mind, and her eyes couldn't help but become moist.

She quickly stepped forward and scooped up her nephew, who was taller than she was, into her arms. Her movements were quick and urgent, fearing that if she were a little late, he would collapse. "Auntie knows you're a good boy. Don't cry. Auntie knows you've been wronged." She patted Wutou's back gently, cooing softly as if to soothe a baby.

Upon seeing this, Pu Ge'er hurried forward and snatched the bag from Wu Tou's hand. Only then did Wu Tou carefully put his arms around his aunt's back.

Pu Ge'er stumbled a little, not expecting the bundle to be so heavy. He weighed it curiously, trying to guess what was inside, before placing it on the table.

The two siblings stood there speechless, staring at the two people hugging each other. Jing Chunxi's fingertips unconsciously twisted the corner of his clothes, tears welling in his eyes; Pu Ge'er bit his lower lip, his brow furrowed, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't.

They couldn't fully empathize with Datou's feelings, but they understood the pain he felt for losing almost all his loved ones.

Wutou was only two years older than Jing Chunxi, still a teenager. Jing Chunxi recalled how Wutou always stood tall and straight, speaking in a hurried, full-throated voice. He acted like a little adult, taking care of his younger siblings. Who, besides his family, could have imagined the torment he endured?

The important thing is that, despite such a huge incident, as the eldest child in the family, he couldn't tell anyone. No one helped him share his burden, and he couldn't even tell the truth. While taking care of his younger siblings, he had to endure it all, swallowing all the pain.

Thinking of this, Jing Chunxi could no longer hold back his tears, which slid down his cheeks.

"Aunt, woo! Aunt~ woo woo!" Wutou was held in his aunt's arms, and finally took off all his disguises. He was like a child who had been lost for a long time and finally found his home. The tears in his eyes were released like a flood, and they were unstoppable.

His crying gradually changed from suppressed sobs at the beginning to loud crying, his shoulders shook violently, and his whole body collapsed in Jing Qiurong's arms.

Jing Qiurong held him like this, feeling the trembling body of this half-grown child in her arms, her heart ached. She gently stroked his hair, which was a little messy, not like it was well-groomed.

After a long while, Jing Qiurong whispered to comfort him, "Aunt knows everything! Just tell me if you have any difficulties. Aunt will face them with you and solve them for you. You don't have to keep them all in your heart." Her voice was gentle and firm, like a bright light in the darkness.

These words were like a key, unlocking the floodgates deep within Wutou's heart, causing his tears to flow even more fiercely, wetting a large area of ​​Jing Qiurong's shoulder. His tears soaked through Jing Qiurong's clothes, the warm liquid seeping through the fabric, conveying the young man's unspeakable pain.

After half a cup of tea, Wutou's crying finally subsided. He raised his head sheepishly, his eyes swollen like peaches, and tears still stained his face.

He gently pushed his aunt away, his movements tinged with reluctance and embarrassment. "I've prepared some things for Cousin Xi to take with her." He walked over to the table and pointed at the large bundle. His voice was still hoarse from crying, and his fingers were trembling slightly.

"Didn't they deliver it yesterday? They're all loaded onto the carriage," Jing Chunxi couldn't help but ask, her voice as soft as a feather. She remembered that Wutou had indeed brought two large bundles with his younger siblings yesterday. However, he had just stood beside the carriage, as if hesitant to speak, and ultimately left without saying anything.

Wutou looked at Jing Chunxi, then down at the bundle, his eyes flickering. "I prepared this for my elder sister, away from my brothers and sisters," he said, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. "I can't sew, so I just buy whatever I see in town. I hope my elder sister likes it."

After saying this, the tears that had been wiped away with great difficulty flowed out again, dripping down her chin onto the bundle, leaving dark dots.

"I used to steal my eldest sister's things, and I used to punch her at every turn." He couldn't continue, a painful whimper escaping his throat. Suddenly, he used both hands to pull at his hair, as if to punish himself. His fingers dug deep into his hair, the force so strong that his knuckles turned white.

Pu Ge'er couldn't bear to watch, so he quickly stepped forward and desperately grabbed one of his hands. After a struggle, he finally stopped. Pu Ge'er's hand was scratched with several red marks, but he didn't feel it at all, and just looked at Wu Tou worriedly.