Chapter 992

Fated to the Cursed Lycan Prince by Dark Knight

It’s Okay to Cry

Rufus’ POV:

Afraid that I might not believe him, Arron repeated himself stubbornly. “I’m telling the truth. My mommy
is not ugly.”

I smiled. “I know. Your mommy is not ugly. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have given birth to such cute
children as Beryl and you.”

Arron seemed satisfied with my response, because he then broke into a smile. Although his face was
haphazardly wrapped in bandages, I could still see the smile on his face.

For some reason, this made me feel better. Maybe in every child’s eyes, their mother was the most
beautiful. Or maybe Crystal really was beautiful before she was disfigured.

However, they say that the eyes are the window to the soul. Crystal’s eyes were beautiful, and even if
she had a common face, nothing could conceal the brightness in her eyes.

My curiosity was piqued. “Can you tell me what your mommy looks like?”

Arron thought about it carefully and then said, “Her shiny eyes are like pearls, her smile is like a
rainbow, and her face is neither round nor long—it’s just right. Most importantly, Mommy has a very
nice scent and her hugs are the best.”

Hearing Arron’s description, I was quite amused. “Well, I can’t wait for the day I get to see your
mommy’s face with my own eyes.”



Arron nodded vigorously. “Good!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle and ruffle his hair affectionately. Only then did I notice that there were tears
in his trousers, revealing the bruises on his knees. I turned around and asked one of the guards to call
a doctor. Then I was about to scoop Arron up, but he stepped away decisively.

“It’s no big deal. I can walk.”

After saying that, Arron limped in front of me, toting the stray scarf in his hands. He wore a determined
expression, but his cheeks were so round that he looked more cute than fierce.

Although Crystal was unruly and presumptuous, she had raised the two children well. Although Beryl
was a little naughty, she was smarter than other children. Arron, on the other hand, was very well-
behaved. And even though I just met him today, I felt as though I had to protect him.

While I was deep in thought, the poor little boy who was hobbling in front of me suddenly fell down.

Clicking my tongue, I carefully picked up the child, patted his cheek, and said gently, “When you have
to be brave, then be brave. But when there’s no need to be strong, learn to rely on others. It’s the
privilege of a child to show weakness occasionally.”

Arron didn’t say anything. He just stared at me wordlessly.

I thought my tone might be too harsh just now, so I hurriedly added, “I wasn’t blaming you. I just think
that you’re still young, so it’s okay to ask grown-ups for help sometimes. Even if you burst into tears
right here and now, I’ll still think you’re great. It is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Do you cry?” Arron asked suddenly.



I ch*oked. I really couldn’t remember the last time I had cried. Perhaps I was five or six years old? But
in order to convince him, I explained patiently, “Crying is nothing to be ashamed of. Sometimes it’s a
good way to vent overwhelming emotions. Everyone cries sometimes. It may be tears of sadness or
even tears of joy. It’s normal to cry. You don’t have to hold them back for the sake of looking strong.”

Arron fell silent again and lowered his head.

I thought he might be too young to understand what I was saying, so I dropped the subject. When I was
about to take him to the lounge to see the doctor, he suddenly asked, “Are you my father?”

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