CHAPTER 507: LITTLE COMET!

George Stephens is freezing now.

Being young, his body temperature doesn’t stay stable like an adult’s. He’s been cold for a whole day and night, and his hands and feet are already icy.

He bowed his head, hugging the clothes that still carried Daisy Ginger’s warmth. The outfit emitted her scent, quite different from what he’d imagined—not smelly, but pleasantly fragrant.

Realizing he was secretly smelling the clothes, his face flushed with embarrassment. He sneaked a glance at Daisy Ginger, who was resting with her eyes closed, ignoring him. Feeling relieved, he clumsily began to lay Daisy Ginger’s coat on the ground as a bed.

Adult clothing is too cumbersome for a child. He was only three years old, with short limbs, entangled with the clothes for a while, and then "plop" fell into the pile of dry leaves.

"Plop."

Daisy Ginger opened her eyes, looking at George Stephens struggling amid the clothes and leaves.

She couldn’t help but laugh, condescendingly got up from the ground, walked leisurely to George Stephens lying on the ground, and poked the dirty little face of the child: "Little beggar, you really don’t even know how to wear clothes, huh."

George Stephens, angry and red-faced, couldn’t break free and cursed her: "Bad woman!"

"Giving you clothes to wear, still a bad woman, you ungrateful little imp." Daisy Ginger reached out, picked him up. The child’s weight was similar to Erin Ginger’s, and held by her, he no longer struggled.

Daisy Ginger carried him into the sunshine, let him stand, undressed him, and dressed him again, buttoning up.

"Soak up some sun; you’ll heat up quickly."

Early summer sunlight wasn’t intense, but it was better than nothing. Without her coat, the skin on Daisy Ginger’s arms felt the chill in the air.

She glanced at George Stephens basking in the sun.

Poor child to have stayed in such a place for a day and night.

"How did you end up here yesterday?"

Having nothing to do, Daisy Ginger chatted with him.

George Stephens squatted by the wall, dragging the long clothes, burying his face in the sleeves.

"Little beggar, I’m asking you a question."

"...I got lost," he said sullenly.

Hearing this, Daisy Ginger thought for a moment and said: "Did you take a wrong turn?"

"..." The little rascal didn’t respond, indicating that he acknowledged.

No wonder he ventured so deep into the dense woods.

Going the wrong way, deeper and deeper, and falling into this big pit. Such a small child, not having a breakdown, was at least courageous.

Daisy Ginger mocked: "Can’t even find your way, trying to run away from home, served you right to fall down!"

George Stephens was very unconvinced: "Didn’t you fall down here too?"

"I fell down here looking for you," Daisy Ginger extended her hand, poked his round head, "Little jinx!"

First a little beggar, now a little jinx!

"I have a name!" He was defiant.

"I also have a name." Daisy Ginger replied, "Not that you’re allowed to call it."

"I’m not calling it anyway."

Daisy Ginger chuckled, thinking that this was the first time the child showed the personality fit for his age.

She dug out strawberry candy from her bag, gave George Stephens one, "Let’s wait; your dad will find us soon."

George Stephens held the candy, glanced at Daisy Ginger.

Sitting there, she was relaxed, even after she beat him up. He didn’t hate her as much as he initially did.

He lowered his head, slipped the candy into his mouth. The sweet strawberry flavor spread through his senses, dispelling the chill and fear he’d felt all night.