"Brother Jian, this is something I made myself. You take it, it's not worth much money." Saying this, she placed the bag into Jian Zhiqing's hands.
Jian Zhiqing didn't ask what was inside the bag, nor did he refuse it; he certainly took note of the sentiment.
"Thanks, I'm leaving now," after saying that, he reached out his hand and, like he would do to his own little brother, ruffled her hair on top of her head, causing Qin Xiangnuan to blush deeply. She was already so old, yet he still touched her head; a woman in her forties with such a youthful face — she herself was at a loss for words.
Jian Zhiqing carried his brother along, leaving. Being so delicate, the little boy refused to walk at all, and with the station being crowded, it was better for him to carry him to avoid getting lost.
