A boy with neat, short hair, a slender frame, and clad in a blue and white school uniform, gently held the little girl in his arms, letting her soaking clothes dampen his shirt.
Qi Zhi lightly patted Xiaxia, disregarding the mud on her face, and nuzzled the poor child with his cheek. His voice sounded like a heavenly melody: "Sorry, brother is late."
"Brother...?" Xiaxia asked faintly in confusion. She opened her eyes with difficulty and saw a familiar face.