Looking at Yang Zhigang's determined expression, Yang Qingwen hesitated.
Thinking of how her mother, grandfather, and grandmother used to shower her with love, she wondered if confronting them about whether they only loved her brother and not her would make them sad…
"Dad…" Yang Qingwen's eyes were red, and she looked at him helplessly like a pitiful little rabbit.
Yang Zhigang's heart softened. He couldn't help but harshly reflect on himself; he had indeed been neglecting this daughter of his lately. He felt an undeniable sense of guilt…
Yang Zhigang reached out to rub her little head and said firmly, "Daddy, Mommy, Grandpa, Grandma, even your aunt, brother, and sister—all your family—they all love you. You are you; everyone is an individual and different. You don't need to compare yourself with anyone, nor can you be compared."
Yang Qingwen blinked her big watery eyes, still somewhat confused.
