Zhao Qian'er suddenly took a liking to holding hands, and also, to his attentive gaze.
Just like not long ago, when she became fond of Rong'er's abdominal muscles, simply touching them, experiencing them, and then she liked them.
The little girl couldn't clearly articulate why; her likes and dislikes followed her heart.
So her fondness was merely pure fondness.
A wholehearted fondness.
Just like a swing.
When she was little, still a maid with short legs and a round face, she sneaked to the Duke Mansion's kitchen to 'steal' something for the young miss to eat. On the way, she suddenly saw a girl of the same age dressed in luxurious clothes flying back and forth on a plank, and her steps gradually slowed. She squatted down hugging her knees, watching quietly for a long, long time.
