Chapter 392: Childhood Friends Must Be Cultivated from a Young Age (Extra 1)

The first time An Ziyu saw Jiang Luoluo, his eyes couldn’t help but glance at her.

She was about the same age as him, with big, beautiful eyes that seemed to speak on their own.

Little An Ziyu didn’t know what “pretty” meant, but in that moment, he felt like he couldn’t look away.

Hiding in his mother’s embrace, he took advantage of the moment when the unfamiliar aunt was talking to secretly turn his head and sneak a peek at the girl.

She didn’t notice him watching, standing there quietly like a well-behaved doll.

“Hello, Auntie,” she said.

Her voice was crisp and sweet, with a soft, childlike lilt.

When Jiang Luoluo looked over at him, An Ziyu quickly turned his head back, burying it in his mother’s arms.

The unfamiliar aunt greeted him too, but after that, she didn’t look at him again.

An Ziyu felt a little sad and frustrated, though he didn’t fully understand why.

In the living room later, Jiang Luoluo finally greeted him.

An Ziyu was delighted, staring at her intently.

But what happened afterward wasn’t as pleasant.

She accidentally fell, and her hard elbow hit An Ziyu, hurting him badly.

His tears started to flow, big drops rolling down his cheeks nonstop.

He felt so wronged and thought, “Does she not like me? Well, then, I won’t like her either.”

The more he thought about it, the harder he cried.

Even his mother’s comforting words and hugs didn’t help.

Over the next few days, Jiang Luoluo kept trying to get close to him.

An Ziyu really wanted to play with her, but every time he remembered what had happened, he held himself back, deliberately turning his back and focusing on tugging his blanket to distract himself.

When she came closer again, An Ziyu could hear her voice.

Feeling a bit stubborn, he used a deliberately childish voice to say, “I don’t want to play with you; don’t come near me.” But as soon as he said it, he regretted it, worrying that she might really start disliking him.

Today, his mother made them nap together.

An Ziyu felt a mix of excitement and anticipation, but he pretended to look upset and sulky, thinking, “Will she comfort me like Mom does?”

If she did, then she must like him, right?

“Ziyu, what do you like?” She asked, lying there with her big eyes looking over at him cautiously.

An Ziyu felt a bit happy. He pursed his lips and replied in a soft, childish voice, “Cake.”

To his surprise, she asked him again.

An Ziyu felt sad and wronged, thinking that she didn’t care about him at all.

How annoying.

As she leaned closer, An Ziyu tried to turn his head, but his chin bumped into hers.

All the pent-up frustration and sadness suddenly erupted, and his tears started falling again.

He didn’t want to cry, but he couldn’t help thinking that maybe she really didn’t like him.

That thought made him even more upset.

“If she doesn’t like me, then fine. I have Mom, and that’s enough,” he thought.

But over the next few days, she kept trying to get closer to him.

An Ziyu felt conflicted.

He wanted to go over but didn’t want to at the same time.

Then, one day, her mother brought over cake again.

An Ziyu loved the cakes she made—sweet and soft—but since his mom didn’t let him eat too much, he took small bites.

The strawberry on top was extra sweet, so he saved it for last.

He never expected that she would give him her strawberry.