"'Mom, that uncle is putting roses on our pancake stall again!" The three-year-old little dumpling pulled Jiang Chutang's apron and pointed at the man in a suit and leather shoes opposite. Xie Jinbei stood in the morning light, with the repair pen she left in his study in his shirt pocket - three years ago he said, 'I love her', and three years later he held up a copy of the torn pregnancy test sheet: 'Is the child still there?'
She flipped the pancakes, and oil stars splashed on his cufflinks: "Mr. Xie has a very good memory. I thought you had forgotten that I can 'read minds'."
'
Sure enough, she could see the flushed panic at the tips of his ears, the confusion as he clenched the hem of his suit, and even the words 'I regret' in his throat.
It wasn't until his first love caused a scene with the fake pregnancy drama that Xie Jinbei protected the mother and daughter behind him that Jiang Chutang lowered his eyes and caressed the small star mole on the back of his daughter's hand - this star he had crushed back then, now it was his turn to kneel and hold it back. "
