On the way back to the mansion, snowflakes started falling from the sky.
This was the year's belated first snowfall.
Fortunately, Wen Wan had prepared two hand warmers before leaving the house. Now, Xu Jia and Tang Yong each held one, and with the carriage curtains tightly closed, the narrow space inside wasn't too cold.
Xu Jia glanced at the silent little figure beside him and suddenly asked him, "Do you miss your mother?"
Tang Yong nodded instinctively at first, but then quickly realized and shook his head frantically, his small face filled with panic.
He remembered that night when his mother almost beat him to death, almost poisoned him, and in the end, nearly set him on fire.
His father died when he was young, and he was raised under his second uncle's care, rarely seeing his mother. When he did see her, barely having a moment of affection, he was subjected to her abuse.
