A tia malvada quer se redimir, mas o pequenino grita: não pode!

“Hush, brother, don’t wake the bad aunt…”

At that moment, Su Xingwan heard a faint rustling behind her. She wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard, but their voices were just too loud. What they thought were quiet movements sounded like a barrage of tiny noises in her ears.

Su Xingwan turned over, deliberately mumbling something.

Instantly, the two little ones fell silent.

But before long, rustling noises came from behind her again.

Little Su Hua whispered, “…Brother, do you think the bad aunt was woken up by us?”

“…Probably not? She’s been sleeping for ages, hasn’t woken up at all.”

“The bad aunt seems lazier lately, she doesn’t care about us anymore.”

“That’s best, let’s ignore her. It’d be perfect if she never gets up again.”

“But if she doesn’t get up, no one will cook for me…”

Listening to their plotting, Su Xingwan was speechless. Children were children: even when gossiping behind her back, they didn’t bother to sneak farther away.

Again, a flurry of rustling sounds came from behind, and Su Xingwan finally lost her patience. She sat up abruptly.

Two pairs of wide eyes stared at her, instantly alert.

Su Xingwan saw that in the moment she sat up, both children quickly hid their hands behind their backs.

Little Su Hua’s cheeks were puffed out, with crumbs—likely from biscuits—at the corner of her mouth.

Su Xingwan rose and walked over. “What are you hiding?”

“…Nothing, nothing at all.”

Both children hid their little hands behind their backs, guilt written across their fac