"What... What?" Su Lu spoke in a somewhat flustered manner, her eyes uncontrollably flicking toward Cheng Youran beside her.
She wasn't aware of it herself, but she felt that her gaze might have been... almost panic-stricken.
Because, upon seeing her expression, Zhao Xiaole's initially joyous smiling face stiffened, a few shades of helpless caution bleeding through, "Mom, are you unhappy... If you're not happy, I won't look anymore."
Even though the man who dominated the large canvases should be his father, Zhao Xiaole hadn't always been so despondent, but what child wouldn't be curious about their father? Especially a boy.
But if it made his mom unhappy, he would stop looking. He would stop being curious.
For him, Su Xiaolu was the most important.
"It's okay, Mommy isn't unhappy." Su Lu mustered a smile, though it was a bit stiff, but it was undeniably tender, as she picked up her son, "Zhao Xiaole can look at whatever he wants."
