Wang Qian kept her head down, her fingertips pinching a piece of pastry as flaky crumbs fell onto her skirt. The warm chamber was very quiet, save for the occasional faint crackle of the charcoal fire and Xiaoxigua's increasingly frantic cooing and whimpering in Han Zhi's arms as he searched in vain for his mother and the pastries.
Holding his son, Han Zhi gently patted and stroked the boy's back in an attempt to quiet him down, but to little effect.
Xiaoxigua's body seemed wound up with a spring; he squirmed endlessly, turning his little head this way and that as his eyes scanned the warm chamber for his mother, his sister, and the plate of pastries.
Chapter 515