Li Yeqi, feeling refreshed, came downstairs. Yanling had just finished breakfast. It was early, and the sky was still dark. Yanling sat there in his school uniform, waiting for him.
The father and son made eye contact, and Li Yeqi could clearly feel that this child was indeed, as Yan Luoxi had said, more mature and reserved than a month ago.
Seeing him approach, Yanling stood up, "Uncle Li, good morning."
Li Yeqi slightly furrowed his brows. The greeting was the same as when he left a month ago, yet there was an inexplicable restraint and aloofness, an unfamiliarity and courtesy that shouldn't exist between father and son.
He walked over, intending to ruffle Yanling's hair. But as he raised his hand, Yanling seemed to sense it and took a step back, avoiding the seemingly intimate gesture.
Li Yeqi's hand froze in mid-air, "Xiaoling."
