Xiang Ying coughed lightly: "This firewood is..."
Before she could finish, Xiang Yuanlang snorted coldly.
He looked at Xiang Yuanshuo and Xiang Xiuxiu: "I told you, Jie Chen wants to be our father, he will definitely take good care of us."
"Even if the firewood of other people can't be used, we don't have to worry here."
Xiang Xiuxiu blinked her bright big eyes, stepping forward with tiny steps to touch the usable firewood.
Her little face brightened with joy: "That's great, this way both our mother and we won't have to suffer from cold!"
Xiang Yuanshuo, with his hands on his hips like a little adult, nodded.
"I wasn't wrong about Jie Chen."
Xiang Ying really didn't expect that she wouldn't even need to find excuses or argue—the children had already gotten used to the idea that "everything is given by Jie Chen."
When Tao Xue and the others returned, they mentioned that there was no charcoal fire, and Mr. Lin was so cold it ached his bones.
