“Hey!”
After seeing Aunt Zhu off, Song Che lowered his eyes and looked at the earthenware jar in his hand, laughing at himself.
He thought he could stop caring.
But it turns out that I still feel sad.
He let out a long breath to expel the discomfort in his chest, then took another deep breath. Only then did Song Che step into the house.
Mumu sat obediently on the stool, his big round eyes fixed on his mother and sister on the bed.
His little hands would occasionally probe under his mother and sister's noses.
When he felt the breath of the two people, he breathed a sigh of relief and continued to stare.
My son's movements were tense, yet inexplicably sad.
Song Che walked over and touched his little head: "Don't be afraid, Mumu, your mother and sister will be fine."
I didn't hear my daughter's voice anymore. It turned out that the little one fell asleep.
Mumu nodded his little head, but his big eyes were still fixed on his mother.
No one knew that he had tried to smell his mother's breath several times after she fell on her head.
He knew that if a person didn't breathe through his nose, he would never be able to see again.
At that time, he cried because he couldn't feel his mother's breath.
Song Che didn't try to persuade him anymore. He walked over and sat down beside the bed. He held the bowl in one hand and gently helped his wife up with the other hand, letting her lean on him.
Then he slowly and carefully fed her the medicine one spoonful at a time.
Fortunately, my wife still has the instinct to swallow.
A bowl of medicine was quickly fed in.
Song Che covered the mother and daughter with a thin blanket, and went out holding his son's hand.
Coming to the yard, he found a wooden stool to sit on, and held his son in his arms:
"Mumu, Daddy is back, don't be afraid. From now on, Daddy will protect you, Mom, and your sister."
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