Three days later.
Xiaobao waited with eager eyes for three days, but his mother did not come to see him, and he was on the verge of crying.
Especially since his father's look became more profound with each passing day, as if he was disgusted with Xiaobao's incompetence, shattering the little guy's heart into pieces.
On the fourth morning, he sat by the dining table, not even touching his favorite soup dumplings, slumping over the table listlessly.
He Jingyao glanced at him, "Otherwise, shall we call your mom?"
"No," he pouted, "Mom will definitely come to pick me up!"
He didn't want to call her at all; if he begged his mom to come to pick him up, it would be like admitting defeat.
He wouldn't admit defeat so easily!
But remembering how his mom had mentioned several times that he should stay with his dad... she might actually give him up for real.
At that thought, the little guy's nose twitched, and he rubbed his eyes.
