Zhao Zirong, as a father, also had a sense of gratification tinged with the complex flavors of joy and pain.
Only Xiao Jianming, with his piercing gaze fixed on the little girl's face, suddenly blurted out, "Did you think of this yourself, or did someone teach you to say it?"
The others were momentarily taken aback.
Zhao Mengjin, heart trembling from the old crocodile's sudden interrogation but maintaining a calm facade, replied, "It's my own heartfelt thoughts, Grandpa."
Xiao Jianming snorted through his nostrils.
Zhao Mengjin furrowed her brow and, disregarding the expression on her father's face, continued, "I know what Grandpa is thinking, wondering if Uncle and Auntie influenced me. To be honest, yes, they did. But, I don't think the influence they have on me is wrong. Does Grandpa think it's wrong?"
Seeing the child's suddenly aggressive stance, anyone would think that she must have been instigated by someone.
