Elder Kinston's Exclusive Sweet Wife

At this moment, the little one stumbled towards Jeremiah May, instinctively wanting to hug him, but Jeremiah sidestepped to avoid the little one.

Due to inertia, the little one fell face-down, looking quite embarrassed.

Amelia Foster quickly stepped forward to help her daughter up, then kept apologizing to Jeremiah, "Young master, I’m sorry. The little one probably... ran to you because she likes you. She didn’t mean any harm." She was deeply afraid her daughter had annoyed this young master again.

After all, last time it was thanks to Master May’s intervention that nothing happened.

Like? Jeremiah May’s brows furrowed slightly. His youthful face bore a look of contempt.

To him, liking was merely a bother; he had no desire for some little girl’s affections.

"Pain... pain... hug..." the little one cried out. Because she had just fallen, there were grass blades and dust on her hair and face, making her look quite messy, and her face appeared pale. One little hand covered her chest while the other desperately reached out towards him, as if wanting to touch him, to hold him.

Jeremiah May’s gaze was indifferent as he glanced at her. Anyone could see the little one felt very uncomfortable, but what did that have to do with him?

From a young age, he had witnessed gunfire and bullets, seen people die before him, seen limbs blown off by bombs, even among the children, but so what? He could remain indifferent just the same.

Jeremiah turned to leave, but after just two steps, the little one’s cries of pain came from behind, causing him to pause, though for reasons even he couldn’t quite discern.

"Take her to the hospital for a check-up, don’t let anything happen here at the May Family home." Jeremiah said.

"Ok, okay, I’ll take the little one to the hospital right away," Amelia Foster said, wanting to dust off her daughter’s clothes, since the little one now looked like a dirty kitten.

Unexpectedly, as soon as Amelia released the little one, she stumbled again towards Jeremiah May and re-clung to his leg.

If last time she clung to his leg by surprise, this time, though he could have easily avoided it as he did earlier, for some reason, seeing her haggard appearance and painful expression on her face, a moment of hesitation flickered through him.

And it was this hesitation that allowed her to hug his leg.

Her little head rubbed against his pant leg, transferring all the grass blades and dust onto him. The pain on her little face quickly faded, replaced instead by an expression of comfort.

Jeremiah May furrowed his brows again and lifted the little one up directly. Jeremiah himself was only 12 years old, with a height of over 160 centimeters, but lifting a five-year-old little one wasn’t much of a challenge.

On the contrary, the little one, having lost the leg she was hugging, was quite dissatisfied, flailing her arms and legs as if trying hard to touch the person in front of her.

But unfortunately, at that age, her hands and feet were short, and despite flailing all day, she couldn’t reach him.