Turning around, Shen Nian saw a small hand tugging at the corner of her clothes.
An adorable little boy was holding the hem of her clothes, a woeful expression on his face.
"What's wrong, little one?"
Shen Nian crouched down to look at the little boy before her, who seemed to be about seven or eight years old. As she took a closer look, she realized he was quite handsome. His clothes were exquisite, too, suggesting he came from a well-to-do family.
But how could a seven- or eight-year-old boy be all by himself in a bustling place like a supermarket? What would happen if he got lost?
The little boy just stared at Shen Nian without saying a word.
"Are you here with your mommy? Did you get separated and can't find her now?"
The little boy looked at Shen Nian, shook his head, and then nodded.
'What does that mean? And he's not talking… Is it because he doesn't want to, or because he can't?'
"Hey, how about I take you to the police? An officer can help you get home, okay?"
