Jiang Jingyu felt heartbroken seeing how cruelly she treated her child: "Don't hurt him."
"He'll only get worse if I don't hit him." Song Anran slapped him repeatedly.
The child finally let out a soft sob, his voice as delicate as a kitten's.
His skin gradually returned to its normal color.
The child finally cried out, though not loudly, at least he didn't suffocate.
Song Anran wiped the sweat from her forehead, breathed a sigh of relief, and put the child back into the bath towel and wrapped him up.
"Go find an insulated box," she ordered Jiang Jingyu.
The baby was premature, and she had to keep the baby in an incubator, otherwise the baby would not survive.
"This is a nursing home, not a maternity hospital, so where did the incubator come from?" Jiang Jingyu said speechlessly.
This woman seems to have become addicted to giving her orders, constantly creating problems for her.
"Go buy it, go to a medical device company."
"I heard that Lu Zhiwei has locked down all hospitals and medical institutions and bought an incubator separately. Isn't this just walking into a trap?"
Jiang Jingyu isn't completely brainless.
Watching the child's breath grow weaker and weaker.
Song Anran picked up the child and stumbled off the bed without a headscarf or thick clothes.
She was about to leave with her child in her arms.
I walked to the door.
Song Anran stopped in her tracks.
She became a mother.
They should have rushed to the hospital without hesitation for the sake of their child.
But--
She still didn't have the courage to step out of that door. Once she did, she might spend the rest of her life in prison, awaiting execution and being separated from her child forever.
It's better to cherish these brief few minutes of mother-child bonding.
Even if he were gone now.
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