Her sweet and clear voice pulled Mo Chuxi out of his daze.
Last night, after the doctor left, he stood vigil by the bedside, motionless.
His thoughts were a mess—he couldn't delve into them, nor did he dare to.
"Brother Xi, you're just like Dad. These prickly things growing here, Xiaoyuan doesn't like them."
Yan Xinxin leaned closer, blinked her eyes, and pointed at the stubble by Mo Chuxi's mouth, furrowing her brow.
Mo Chuxi came to his senses. He hadn't slept all night. Even when he closed his eyes, the events of the previous evening made sleep impossible.
Looking at the petite woman smiling and blinking at him, Mo Chuxi reached out and gently held her hand, a tender smile appearing on his handsome but weary face.
"Then Brother Xi will get rid of these prickly things soon, so Xiaoyuan will like him again."
"Mhm, mhm!"
Yan Xinxin nodded eagerly, then frowned, raising her hand to pat her own head lightly.
"Ouch, it still hurts here."
