Mr. Feng, We Are Divorced

"Dad, look!" The clear childish voice made Rong Ci's blood freeze. Feng Jingxin ran out of the dressing room with her pink bear in her arms, her pink tutu still stained with cream, "Why isn't mom here yet? I want to blow out the candles with her..." "Children, please be good." When Lin Wu bent down to wipe the little girl's cheek, Rong Ci saw his daughter take out a Suzhou embroidered handkerchief. It was a lotus flower embroidered by her own hands, and the stitches were as fine as stars. It should have been placed in her daughter's treasure chest, but now it was in the hands of this woman. Lin Wu's fingertips lightly touched the embroidered surface, and a faint smile appeared on the corner of his lips: "I am really sensible, this handkerchief matches my new skirt just right." Feng Tingshen's eyes passed over the handkerchief, his Adam's apple moved but he said nothing. Rong Ci felt that his chest was clenched tightly by invisible hands, and his nails dug into his palms.