Qin Yao was slightly older than Qin Wentian, and she was almost 17 this year. Now that she had grown up, slender and elegant, and as pure as a jade, how could she not be embarrassed when Qin Wentian wanted to piggyback her around just like the times when they were both kids. But even so, she still hopped up onto his back, with her hands clasping securely on Qin Wentian’s shoulders as she gazed around, shyness apparent in her eyes.
“Okay, let’s go.” Qin Wentian’s hands were supporting the back of Qin Yao’s thighs — it felt like a soft bundle of cotton was resting behind his back — causing him to laugh as he stated, ”Sister Qin Yao has really grown up.”