Bigshot's Sweetie Is a Cat!

Chapter 1392 - 1433: He Doesn’t Know What to Do

Qing Yi, who was driving, quietly wiped away a tear, feeling equally miserable inside.

"Daddy didn’t lie to you, An’an. Mommy loves Daddy and An’an the most. She won’t leave us and she will surely come back."

Jun Moyan picked up the little one from his lap and held him in his arms, consoling him in a hoarse voice, but his heart felt so suffocated he could barely breathe.

"Daddy is lying, Shangguan Daddy is lying too. All of you are lying to An’an. Mommy still hasn’t come back, boo hoo..."

Jun Moyan held him, surrounded by the sound of the little one’s sorrowful cries. He looked at the scene outside the car window moving backward, his eyes full of confusion, pain, and helplessness.

He didn’t know what to do, not even how to comfort the child and.make him believe that their mother would return.

The hope in his heart was flickering out, and he gradually felt like he was dying a little every day he managed to get through.

He couldn’t even take care of himself right now; he didn’t know whether to be grateful or lament having An’an.

Because without An’an, after waiting for three years, he didn’t know what he would become; he feared he would hardly be recognizable as a human being by now.

The Soul-suppressing Beast has lived for hundreds of thousands of years, easily accustomed to life and death, having witnessed countless changes.

And Jun Moyan, from a young age, had cultivated a Copper Heart and Iron Bones, becoming indifferent to human relationships.

They have been through so much, endured so much hardship, but now he felt more incapable than an ordinary person.

He didn’t know how long he still had to wait or whether he could keep waiting. He didn’t know if what awaited was reunion or despair, and he didn’t understand whether An’an was redemption or restraint for him.

Because without Xiaoguai, he wouldn’t survive this life; he feared that ultimately, because of the child, he would have no choice left.

The little one lay on his shoulder, crying incessantly, the more he cried, the sadder he became, continuing until they reached home.

Jun Moyan just held him like that, sitting in the car, blankly staring out the window, without getting out.

Qing Yi didn’t dare disturb him.

It wasn’t until nightfall that the little one cried himself to exhaustion and fell asleep that Jun Moyan took his backpack, carried him out of the car, and went upstairs.

"What happened? Are Third Young Master and the Young Master alright?" Worried all night, Xiaocha looked at Jun Moyan carrying the little one upstairs and asked Qing Yi with concern.

"It’s fine, go warm the food, and bring it to Third Young Master. The Young Master might eat later."

"Okay."

Jun Moyan took the little one back to his own room, took off his shoes, and after placing him on the bed, wiped his tears, then went into the bathroom and brought out a damp towel.

Sitting by the bed, he gently wiped the little one’s tears, feeling heartache as he looked at his swollen eyes.

The little one cried so sorrowfully that even sleeping now, he would occasionally sob.

Jun Moyan wiped his face clean, but saw the lollipop in his hand and wanted to take it away, but the little one held on tightly.

Jun Moyan tried a few times but couldn’t take it, so he didn’t continue. He watched the lollipop, slowly rubbing its surface with his thumb, his thoughts drifting away.

Slowly, the surrounding air seemed to be filled with sadness. Sitting alone by the bed, he quietly watched the candy, and his resemblance to guarding the child was heart-wrenching.

"Plop"

Perhaps it was because his head was lowered too much, the tears easily fell and landed on the back of his own hand.

He seemed unaware, still watching the candy in the little one’s hand, his vision growing more and more blurred.

The Soul-suppressing Beast had no emotions, let alone tears. In those hundreds of thousands of years, he lived like a deity, never lowering his head or being driven by desires.

And Jun Moyan was also a "hard-hearted" person; in over twenty years, tears he had shed were few and far between.

He really cried very rarely.