Xu Qiaoqiao's eyes were red-rimmed, unable to conceal the agitation in her heart.
She tenderly coaxed the little infant in her arms, gently pulling back the small cap that covered the baby's head.
She had imagined the scene and circumstances of seeing her child countless times, and had envisioned her child's appearance and voice countless times—crying, laughing—yet she never expected that what she was holding in her arms was actually a doll.
Chapter 1922