Xiao Anhe looked at Xiao Yan, the little guy... smiling.
His eyes were a bit red, but he was still his most handsome son.
He reached out and ruffled Xiao Yan's hair,
"Is your conscience bothering you...?"
Xiao Yan hung his head, "I'm just an adoptive father, and I already feel so reluctant. Xiao Ang is like a piece of flesh cut from Su Xiaomeng, that feeling... isn't it harder for her...?"
"These past two days in the detention center... were you bullied?"
Xiao Anhe saw the faint bruises peeking above Xiao Yan's wide sweater neck.
"No."
"Little Yan, it might be... many people are saying you were wrong, many people think you're selfish, that you're... a cruel bastard... but they're not you, and they don't understand you. They're just sanctimonious onlookers..."
"..."
Xiao Yan's eyes turned even redder...
He had been Xiao Xiaoang's father for five years, and looking again now, he realized he was just a big son who still needed his father's protection.
