Qiao Mo nodded, "What was I like when I was little?"
Hearing this, he smiled.
"When you were little, your temper was even worse than now. While everyone else played together, you alone liked to stand under a tree."
"That very tree..."
Fu Nancheng pointed to it; it was a very large, old pagoda tree.
"You always liked to hold a doll, stand under the tree, and watch others play, never joining in the fun."
Qiao Mo was slightly stunned, truly unaware she was like that as a child.
Fu Nancheng gently curled his lips, as if recalling something.
The first time he set foot here, many children in the orphanage looked at him with curiosity and friendliness.
Except her, who just stood under the tree with a fresh, dewy face, and looked at him indifferently.
He still clearly remembers, she wore a white dress, had two braided pigtails, and held a pink-clad rabbit doll, her gaze icy unlike what one would expect from a child her age.
