Ping'an held Old Mrs. Cheng's hand as they entered, pointing at Zhou Jiao: "Great-grandma, you have to keep an eye on my mom, she mustn't tire herself out, otherwise, I don't want a brother anymore."
Old Mrs. Cheng saw three people in the living room, no, it should be two people—one busy climbing high to take down the curtain, and the other carrying a stool, ready to step on it, both bustling with activity.
She chuckled and said, "It's fine. Your mom's sitting down. Our good treasure, you can also look around and see if there's anything unpleasant. We'll take this chance to do a New Year's cleaning and change it all."
Ping'an really doubted if he had found the right person. He sneakily glanced at the old lady, and noticed her eyes fixed on his mom. It seems his grandpa was right again, it's better to rely on oneself than on others.
The little guy sighed silently, and sidled up to Zhou Jiao's leg: "Mom, you don't love me anymore."
