"Xiaolan—"
Just as Master Fuli was sizing up Little Angel and asking about recent foreign events, Ah Qing had already parked the car in the outdoor lot, put the wheelchair on the ground, and pushed Grandfather toward the hotel.
Ah Qing called out to the little fox, reminding him that she was bringing Grandfather along.
"Eeek..."
Ansheng stopped talking, turned around, and let out a soft whine toward Ah Qing's direction.
"Mommy?"
Little Angel stood on tiptoes for a glance, then looked curiously at Master Fuli.
"You probably wouldn't want me to treat that thing wedged between your shoulders like a pimple and squeeze it, right?"
Master Fuli glanced at Little Angel without answering her question, speaking blandly.
"Oh…" Little Angel nodded quickly and didn't ask further questions.
If they kept chatting, Little Angel felt Master Fuli might say, "The weather's dry. I see this American Ginseng looks alright, let's take it home and stew it with chicken."
