The tears Zhuang Hualin had only just stopped began falling again.
If there had been even the slightest chance of Pengfei staying at Zhuang Ganmei's, why would she have humbled herself and come here to beg?
Perhaps because his aunt looked so miserable, Zhuang Tunan could not hold back again. "Mom, I'll keep myself in line."
Huang Ling's breath caught, and a sudden ache filled her heart.
At least seventy percent of her refusal to let Xiang Pengfei stay was for this eldest son of hers.
At this moment, his failure to understand hurt her more than anyone else's cold expression.
She could not help looking at her younger son again. One glance only made her chest feel tighter.
Zhou Cheng was holding a cup of tea, staring absently into it, as though he had never cared what she was fighting for from beginning to end.
But Huang Ling had misunderstood him.
Zhou Cheng looked as though his mind was wandering beyond the heavens, but he had been listening all along. It was simply that something like this could hardly stir his emotions.
After all, he was not really a little kid. He could more or less work out what everyone in the room was thinking.
He could even understand Zhuang Tunan and his overflowing "bleeding heart."
When Zhuang Tunan had spoken up several times earlier, another transmigrator might already have slapped him. But Zhou Cheng felt that Zhuang Tunan was not to blame for his reaction.
Ultimately, he was only a teenager, and his life had followed nothing more than a straight line between home and school.
At school, he was taught to learn from role models, give selflessly, and sacrifice himself for others.
At home, whether he read newspapers or books, watched television, or learned from Zhuang Chaoying's