The sun was a little darker, not so dazzling. Lan Qingchuan was a little drowsy in the sun, and the cheerful and wanton teenagers over there were still skateboarding all over the field, and they didn't care how much attention they had provoked.

She was about to close her eyes when a soft touch came from her leg. She was taken aback, and when she opened her eyes, it turned out to be a small palm. It was a little boy in suspenders, three or four years old, who said a word, "Sister." He struggled to climb onto her lap, but Lan Qingchuan smiled at him and held the little child in his arms.

The little guy is very quiet, and he looks very cute, but his face is much worse than that of a normal child, coupled with his abnormal pronunciation and pronunciation, Lan Qingchuan later asked the old dean, only to know that he was a child with some developmental defects. In addition, due to domestic violence, he was sent to a welfare home at a young age.

The little boy was wearing denim bib pants, and the nursing staff was afraid that he would be cold, so they put on a short coat. He sat quietly in her arms, his arms around her waist, his face pressed against her clothes.

She couldn't laugh or cry, and she heard him call for his mother.

Han Luochen finally got tired of skateboarding, and walked over with some respite, who knew that he heard this. He leaned forward and hooked his harness, drawing his attention to it, "Little one, who is calling mommy?" The little boy turned his head to look at him very cutely, and then turned silently again. Lan Qingchuan heard him say, "Bad belt." "What the bad guy means, it seems that this kid was also in the pile of skateboarding children just now, and heard them laugh at Han Luo Chen's "bad guy".

"Hey, how did I become a badass." After Han Luochen's exercise, the eyebrows and eyes on his fair face became more and more thick and profound, and his raised bamboo eyebrows were dark and wet.

The child grabbed Lan Qingchuan and cried, and his mother screamed. Lan Qingchuan glanced at Han Luochen, he touched his nose, and he was also very aggrieved, "Don't look at me, I didn't do anything." ”

"Don't cry, can I lift you high?" As soon as the child cried, he was about to make trouble, twisting from side to side, and sitting on Lan Qingchuan's lap again, the injury on her ankle was not yet healed, Han Luochen was a little worried, and hugged him to himself, the child hugged his neck, scratched his neck, and raised his hand to scratch his face, fortunately, there were no nails, the feeling of flesh, Han Luochen squinted, "These little guys, why do they have to touch my face one by one." He held the child in his arms and lifted it high, and soon stopped crying, his clothes crumpled and stained with saliva.

Lan Qingchuan looked at him and smiled. Soon the staff from the hospital came and took the child away. Han Luochen took the tissue she handed over and wiped it casually, his eyes were bent, and he looked like a crescent moon, "My little nephew is as big as him, and he is as heavy as a little pig, and he has a lot of skin all day long." He said this, but his tone was pampering, which showed that he liked children more.

She was right, Han Luochen liked these little guys very much, without the calculations and tosses of adults, and was in a carefree and enviable childhood.

He sweated as he spoke, his black hair was wet, and he himself was still a child, and he was stubborn and unmeasured. Lan Qingchuan took out a tissue again and asked him to wipe his sweat, "Hurry up and wipe it, what if the wind blows, what should you do if you catch a cold like this." ”

"You're worried about me." He smiled so hard that the delicate eyeliner outlined by Gongbi was upturned, and his eyes were gentle and beautiful, "Why don't you wipe it for me?" Waiting for her to answer.

She smiled, "yes, I'm worried about you." But he put tissue paper on the back and refused, "Love wipes it or not." ”