She only knew that her father had been very kind to her, cherished her more than her mother did.
"So, at this moment, my heart feels so at peace, so steady," she said.
Ji Anning stared at her father's portrait, sighing.
Even though he wasn't her biological father, it was he who had held her hand as she learned to speak and walked her step by step as she learned to walk.
A day as a teacher, a lifetime as a father, all the more as they had been father and daughter for six years.
Ji Chicheng said nothing, stretching his arm around Ji Anning's shoulders, tightly gripping her shoulder.
More effective than the comfort and encouragement of words.
...
As dawn was about to break, under Ji Chicheng's order, Ji Anning leaned on a chair and dozed off for a couple of hours.
Under the scent of the burning incense, she slept exceptionally deep during those few hours, until Fenfen came and woke her up.
