Chapter 333 Mao Mao is sick, half an egg is enough.
Mao Mao lay on the soft bed, her head buried in the pillow, surrounded by a group of people.
The whole family was here, more than a dozen people, standing around the big bed. The room was so crowded that there was almost no room to stand. The big white cat jumped onto the bed and lay down next to Mao Mao.
Lou Heming pulled the thermometer out of her mouth and glanced at it: "...37.6℃, thankfully, just a low-grade fever."
Mao Mao clutched the blanket, her eyes wet as she looked at him: "Brother, is Mao Mao sick?"
"It's just a little cold, it's nothing." Lou Heming gently touched her forehead: "After a good night's sleep, Mao Mao will be fine."
"Don't you need to take medicine?"
"Not for now."
Mao Mao nodded, her little face even more worried: "Will Mao Mao die?"
Before Lou Heming could answer, the third concubine interrupted, "Pah! Darling, don't say such unlucky things when you're sick."
"That's right, Mao Mao, you're just a little sick, you'll be fine soon."
"Your second brother is a doctor, and he's really good at it. As long as you listen to him, you'll get better soon."
“That’s right.” Lou Heming helped her cover herself with the blanket. “Be a good girl and get some sleep. Maybe you’ll feel better when you wake up tomorrow.”
Lou Fengju: "Mao Mao, when you're all better, your brother will take you horseback riding."
"Uh-huh."
Mao Mao clutched the blanket and obediently closed her eyes.
Because she was sick, her face was flushed, and her small body was sunken in the big bed, making her look particularly pitiful.
The sight of it melted the hearts of everyone gathered around, who stared longingly, unwilling to leave.
Old Madam Lou tapped her cane on the ground: "Everyone, get out. Don't crowd around here and disturb Mao Mao's rest."
Lou Hongjian volunteered and raised his hand: "I'll go with Mao Mao."
"No need to trouble Third Young Master, I'll stay with Mao Mao," Xia Xiaoxiang said.
The third concubine immediately chimed in, "Then I..."
"Everyone out," said the old lady Lou unhappily. "Just leave Maomao's mother here. With so many people, if you say a few more words, you'll wake Maomao up even if she's asleep. She's sick now, and the most important thing is for her to rest."
Lou Yansui wanted to say something more: "Grandma..."
Old Madam Lou raised her cane and urged them to leave: "Go away, go away."
A large group of people were forced out of the room.
Besides Xia Xiaoxiang, only a big white cat remained in the house, quietly lying on the bed, its fluffy body pressed against Mao Mao, resting with its good friend.
Old Madam Lou walked last. Before closing the door, she looked back and saw Mao Mao lying there, so tiny, only a little bigger than a cat. It was heartbreaking to see her like that.
The group went downstairs.
It's only just past dinner time, it's still early, and it's not time to rest yet.
Lou Yansui went to do her homework, while the ladies remained in the small living room, finding their own enjoyment.
However, the topics I used to enjoy, the things I liked to read, and everything that interested me seemed to have become dull and uninteresting.
The third concubine flipped through a couple of pages of the magazine, her eyes scanning the text and illustrations, but none of it registered with her. She absentmindedly closed the magazine, and her first words were a soft sigh: "Sigh."
"Don't sigh," the second concubine said. "When you sigh, it makes me anxious."
"well."
The third concubine sighed again, rubbing her forehead with a melancholy expression: "My heart is in turmoil, I can't relax."
“That’s right,” the first wife chimed in. “My heart is also completely filled with thoughts of Mao Mao.”
Normally, the house is always filled with the cheerful laughter of a little girl; her tender, sweet voice is everywhere, and just listening to it makes one feel good.
Especially in the evenings, when the ladies sat in the small living room, Mao Mao would always be there to keep them company. Having Mao Mao with them had become a habit. Now that she was suddenly gone, it left them feeling empty.
Not to mention, the little girl they were thinking about was still sick.
The first wife comforted him, saying, "Heming said it's just a minor cold and he'll be fine soon."
"Since Mao Mao came to our house, she has never been sick," said the second concubine. "She was well taken care of by her mother, so she is strong and healthy."
First wife: "Last winter was so cold, but our Mao Mao was fine. The Third Young Master was sick for quite a while, and she didn't even sneeze once."
Third concubine: "Our Mao Mao is dressed warmly. I see her wearing a hat and scarf every day, and her clothes are all new. She doesn't get cold."
Second wife: "The weather has gotten colder recently, and many people are sick. Yesterday, when I took Mao Mao to school, I saw a student with a runny nose. Maybe she caught it from kindergarten."
The third concubine immediately exclaimed, "Oh dear, all the healthy little ones in this kindergarten have gotten sick!"
There are so many children in the kindergarten.
Children have the weakest immune systems and are the most susceptible to illness. With so many children in one group, illness is inevitable, and it spreads from one to ten, then to a hundred. Even the healthiest baby can't escape getting sick if they fall into this cycle.
"Poor thing, our Mao Mao has really suffered." The third concubine said with heartache, "I saw her lying there, listless, without a sound, unable to eat or sleep well, oh my, it breaks my heart to see her like that."
The ladies exchanged glances.
"Isn't it good to have something to eat?" they asked uncertainly.
The third concubine thought for a moment: "..."
In the evening, Mao Mao ate a full bowl of rice and drank a whole bowl of soup, and she ate every dish on the table.
...It seems not.
upstairs.
Mao Mao and her mother's room.
Mao Mao closed her eyes, trying to fall asleep for a long time, but still couldn't.
She opened her big, dark eyes and saw her mother sitting by the bed knitting.
"Mother."
Xia Xiaoxiang put down her knitting and came closer: "What's wrong? Where does it hurt?"
"I don't feel unwell." Mao Mao shook her head: "I can't sleep."
It's not time for her to go to sleep yet.
"Then your mother will sing you a song."
Xia Xiaoxiang patted her gently, humming a soft tune.
After listening for a while, Mao Mao suddenly reached out her little hand and struggled to touch her forehead.
Xia Xiaoxiang bent down and let her touch her.
Mao Mao touched it for a while, pouting with a worried little face: "Mommy, your head is so hot."
"It's not that your head is hot, it's that your hands are hot." Xia Xiaoxiang said, laughing and crying at the same time, and stuffed her hands back into the quilt: "You're sick now, and you have a fever, so everything you touch feels hot."
"oh……"
After a while, Mao Mao asked again, "Mother, when will Mao Mao get better?"
"It will be quick. Didn't Second Young Master say it was just a minor cold, it'll be fine soon?"
"Really?"
Xia Xiaoxiang bent down and kissed her forehead: "Really, as long as you eat well and sleep well, you'll get better soon."
Xia Xiaoxiang said with some heartache.
Their daughter, Mao Mao, had always been a healthy baby, rarely getting sick; the last time she was sick was so long ago she couldn't even remember. Now that she'd suddenly collapsed, it felt like a knife had been ripped from her heart; she was heartbroken beyond words.
She was upset, but Mao Mao was even more upset.
Which sick child feels good? If they can't eat or sleep well, it's a good thing if they don't cry.
After Xia Xiaoxiang finished speaking to comfort her daughter, she straightened up and looked down to meet her daughter's big, blinking eyes.
Mao Mao looked at her expectantly: "Can Mao Mao eat a pomegranate now?"
"..."
"I see! There's a pomegranate on the table today." Mao Mao stretched out her two little hands from under the covers, carefully drew a circle, and said with a bright smile, "It's so big!"
"..."
"Mother, Mao Mao can eat one..." Mao Mao thought for a moment, then held up the circle a little smaller and said considerately, "Mao Mao is sick, so half is fine too."
Xia Xiaoxiang: "..."
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