The next second, Little Princess's small body was lifted by Lucas Scott and placed on the sink.
"You stand here and wash for Uncle," he said.
As he spoke, Lucas handed a towel to Little Princess.
Molly's face, scrunched up like a bun, immediately broke into a smile.
Squatting in front of the faucet, she wet the towel and began to wipe Lucas's face.
Her strength wasn't enough, both small hands gripping the towel, wiping repeatedly, and seeing Lucas's face turn red without removing the pigment, she started to get anxious.
"Beautiful Uncle, does it hurt?" Little Princess touched his reddened face and asked with a pout.
Lucas's thin lips curved up mischievously, "It doesn't hurt."
What was this pain? He had suffered greater wounds before...
Before Lucas could finish the thought, he saw Molly suddenly put down the towel, cupped his face in her hands, and blew on it with pursed lips.
"A puff from Little Princess and it won't hurt."
