Mo Siluo kept his eyes closed, his hand rubbing his brow as if lost in deep thought. He rose from his office chair, then paced back and forth beside his desk, and finally picked up his phone to call home.
Twenty minutes later, Mo Siluo hurried back home, and as soon as he entered, he started to search everywhere with his eyes.
"Where is he?" Mo Siluo asked straightforwardly, seeing the old man sitting on the sofa with a somewhat displeased expression.
The servant by his side quickly glanced towards the balcony.
Mo Siluo turned and strode towards the balcony, and when he saw Xiaoguai squatting in a corner, crying, his heart inexplicably ached.
Xiaoguai, with his head hung low, caught sight of Mo Siluo's leather shoes inching closer from the corner of his eye.
"Get up."
Hearing the familiar voice, Xiaoguai instinctively looked up at Mo Siluo and then twisted his little face away, making a gesture that he was still angry.
