Master Zhong sighed heavily.
Ruan Jiaojiao glanced at him and went over to help clean up. Just as she was about to bend down to pick up the broken bowls, Master Zhong scooped her up.
"Jiaojiao, you don't need to clean this up. Go sit over there, or you might cut your hand," Master Zhong said. Seeing such a delicate child, his heart ached at the thought of her picking up the broken bowls. If she got hurt, when the head of the Ruan Family came back, he would never hear the end of it.
He then placed her gently on a chair.
But at that moment, Ruan Jiaojiao couldn't sit still. She looked over at Xiu Xi, who was still moving tables, and pleaded softly, "Uncle Zhong, I won't cut myself if I don't pick up the bowls. Can I just help by holding onto the chairs?"
Looking at the little one's red-rimmed eyes, Master Zhong couldn't bring himself to refuse and could only nod helplessly in agreement.