It was a man in his early twenties, thin as a rail and pale as death. Though there was nothing physically wrong with his legs, he was so frail that he could only sit in a wheelchair.
The man pushed his wheelchair to a stop in front of little An'an, prompting the child to look up at him with curiosity and greet him of her own accord: "Hello, Uncle."
"Hello, little one. What are you doing sitting here?"
Chapter 499