"Jingfeng"...
What, uncle is here?
Ji Anning was momentarily stunned, then, like rising from the dead, she abruptly sat up, paused for half a second, flung off the quilt, got out of bed, and, barefoot, hurriedly ran out, passing by her mother like a gust of wind.
Seeing her in such a desperate rush, her mother, not knowing what had happened, became anxious, "Jiajia, what's wrong?"
Ji Anning didn't rush to answer her mother. She dashed out of the room and instantly saw the man sitting on an old wooden chair. She stared with her mouth agape, shocked, surprised, and terrified.
The man, unsurprised by her reaction, held a transparent glass cup with his pale, beautiful hands, looking at her with a half-smile, "Anning."
His voice, as always, was pleasant, as calm and unrippled as his expression.
