When the Sang family’s front door opened, Duan Jiaxu had just stepped away from an argument about debt.
> Warm light spilled out from inside. He put on his usual carefree smile, but then his breath caught as he glanced at the corner of the sofa.
> A girl in a pink fuzzy hoodie had curled up into a ball, her wary eyes like those of a frightened little panda.
> “Hey, kiddo.” He teased her on purpose, though his fingers unconsciously rubbed the cold IOU in his pocket.
> At dinner, Sang Yan called him an “old man.” The girl suddenly slapped the table and stood up. “Brother isn’t old!”
> Duan Jiaxu’s chopsticks froze in midair.
> A corner of the ice-sealed place in his chest crumbled beneath the little paw’s sharp smack.
