Chapter Content
An ZhiAng naturally noticed her evasive movement, his eyes sank, and he pulled her hand over, carefully helped roll up her sleeve, and saw the criss-crossing scars under her sleeves, some were new and some were flesh-colored scars that had already healed but left behind.
He stretched out his fingers and touched them distressedly, and asked in a low voice, "Does it hurt?"
He was the most mischievous child in the family. Although he had been beaten many times when he was young, he had never been beaten like this with scars all over his body. It was not difficult to imagine how serious the beatings were at that time.
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