Mo Zili's heart spasmed and a thread of pain began to emerge as he looked at the purse. Opening his mouth, he said, "Was this purse embroidered by the Second Miss of the Mu Family?"
"Yes!" Mo Ziqi answered frankly.
Had it not been her work, he, a grown man, wouldn't care to play with a purse, much less hold onto it so fondly.
Mo Zili tugged at the corners of his mouth, forcing a smile, a trace of disappointment flickering in his eyes. If it hadn't been embroidered by the Miss of the Mo Family, he would have really liked to take that purse for himself, because that little lion on it truly resembled her—its round, black, big eyes; its slightly upturned little nose; even the cute and confused way the little lion looked at its own claws were all strikingly similar to her.
Perhaps it was because he loved her that everything reminded him of her.
Mo Zili sighed and said in a low voice, "Fourth Brother is really fortunate to have a woman who sincerely cares for him."
