The next day, Chen Cheng didn't sleep well last night, his brows slightly furrowed.
Xiao Meier had not slept all night, occasionally checking on Chen Cheng's condition, afraid that something might be wrong with him.
Seeing his eyelids twitch, Xiao Meier gently asked, "Xiao Cheng, are you awake? How do you feel? Does it still hurt?"
Chen Cheng opened his eyes and seeing Xiao Meier's slightly haggard face, a warmth surged in his heart.
"It's okay, it doesn't hurt much."
"What time is it?" he asked again.
"It's almost eight." While speaking, Xiao Meier adjusted his pillow, "Are you hungry? I made some porridge for you."
"Not really, I'm not very hungry." Chen Cheng moved his injured arm, feeling a bit sore.
Xiao Meier immediately noticed his discomfort, "Does it hurt?"
"A bit," Chen Cheng honestly replied.
Xiao Meier tenderly caressed his arm, "It's all my fault, I shouldn't have let you go to that party yesterday."
