Cissily saw Shen Qinglan and saw her as a savior, looking at her with pitiful eyes, "An, he keeps crying, and nothing seems to console him."
Shen Qinglan quickly took baby Anan into her arms and gently soothed him, "There, there, don't cry anymore, mommy is back."
Feeling the familiar scent, baby Anan's cries began to subside, his hand tightly clutching Shen Qinglan's clothes in front of her chest.
Looking at her son's tear-stained, flushed cheeks, Shen Qinglan's heart ached, but her face showed a tender smile. She gently tapped his little nose, "Such a crybaby, left alone for such a short while and you've turned into a little crycat."
The little guy thought his mom was playing with him, staring at her with his wet, large eyes. Shen Qinglan felt her heart melt, and she leaned down to kiss his face, "Sweetheart, we're going home now."
