Shen Qingqing made herself clear, but at noon the next day, Shu Xian still found the hotel where she was staying.
Shu Xian did not come alone; she brought with her a frail young man.
Unlike the unexpected encounter from the day before, this time Shu Xian had tidied herself up thoroughly.
Although her clothes were washed to the point of fading, they were very clean and neat.
Her hair was meticulously groomed, her face still aged, but carefully made up with a bit of brightness, and her spirit looked different.
She pushed her son and said with a smile, "Xiaoyu, quickly greet her. This is your cousin Qingqing. You always talk about her, and now you're finally meeting her."
"Cousin, I'm Xiaoyu."
The young man's complexion was pale, his voice was weak, and he looked seriously ill.
His eyes were evasive, carrying a trace of resistance, clearly not wanting to be here.
Shen Qingqing didn't want to be involved with them originally, so she didn't care about their attitude.
