Ye Qianzhi leaned against the window, peering curiously through the narrow gap at everything in the courtyard.,Ye Qiangzhi hung her head, speechless. Gazing at the frail and unfamiliar hand, she knew she had crossed over.,So Ye Qianchi, the poor little thing with her father dead, her mother remarried, and no one to care for her, had a pitiful head.。