When they were about to head to the neighbor's place, Zhao Chun suddenly got excited. He grabbed his camera and eagerly gestured, "Yanyan, stand under the pomegranate tree in the yard. Uncle will take a picture of you."
Meng Shuyan, full of curiosity, obediently stood under the pomegranate tree. He placed one tiny hand on the tree trunk, his small body standing perfectly straight. He pressed his small lips together into a tight line, his expression solemn and focused, his bright eyes shining. All he lacked was lifting a hand to salute.
Honestly, at moments like these, one could faintly see a trace of Jiang Jinghuai in him. Tian Sangsang's heart ached a little as she shook her head, trying to push away the thought. What was the point of dwelling on him?
"Yanyan, give me a military salute," Zhao Chun instructed.
Meng Shuyan raised his little hand, his big eyes narrowing sharply.
