Yan Yinuo had no choice but to stand aside, watching her mother wet a small towel in the basin, wring it dry, her movements indescribably adept, as if she had done it a thousand times.
This scene made Yan Yinuo feel a mix of emotions.
Her mother seemed more and more accustomed to the current life, which was a good thing, yet she still felt a pang of heartache.
After all, her mother was once a woman who lived in luxury, when had she ever suffered such hardship?
What Yan Yinuo was thinking, Xu Lijing had no idea.
Instead, her slightly emotional voice gently sounded: "What a poor child, looks quite young, wonder how he angered those people to make them act so ruthlessly."
Unintentionally hearing this sigh, Yan Yinuo instinctively walked over.
The little boy whose face bruises were wiped off revealed a fair, delicate face, with pale, soft skin, a high nose bridge, and narrow, long eyebrows, forming a stark contrast with other wounds.
