Even if he moved his gaze, that silhouette, interwoven with deep and shallow hues like a sunset melting into gold, was etched deeply into his retina, like the sun in the sky—irremovable, impossible to ignore, unforgettable.
This was the most terrifying creature he had ever seen, even scarier than an angry mom.
At the moment of his distraction, a pair of hands covered his eyes, pulling him into a soft embrace, and the familiar scent of sugar-roasted chestnuts slowed his heartbeat. In his ear was his mother's gentle murmuring, "It's all right, it's all right..."
Su Yi noticed his mother didn't habitually follow up with "Everything will pass," which made him vaguely uneasy, "Could it be that even Xiaoba can't beat that big tiger?"
The woman did not answer but only held him tighter.
"Mom..."
