"Hello, Auntie Tong!"
The three little tykes immediately chimed in unison.
Tong Mo burst into a smile, "So polite."
After speaking, she suddenly thought of something, turned her head to look at a little boy not far away, and waved impatiently, "Chenchen, what are you standing there dazed for? Come here quickly, this is the Auntie Luo I often talk to you about!"
"I know, Mommy."
Upon hearing Tong Mo's voice, the little boy slowly walked over.
He was only about four years old, with a small face that was incredibly handsome, especially his deep brown eyes that resembled a vast starry sky, and thin lips lightly pressed into a straight line, giving him an especially detached demeanor.
"Hello, Auntie Luo."
When he spoke, his voice was youthful, with a politeness that was tinged with distance.
After he had spoken, he returned to Tong Mo's side, his little hand holding her big hand, as if apart from Tong Mo, he was indifferent to everyone else.
