Luo Qiao smiled and leaned against Lu Yichen as the two of them walked together toward the intensive care unit.
When they arrived, they saw Luo Haotian standing there, staring blankly at the person in the ward.
As they approached, Luo Qiao softly called out, "Dad."
Luo Haotian turned his head: "Qiaoqiao, you should be resting properly, why did you come over?"
Luo Qiao smiled faintly: "I'm fine now. I was just very tense before, and a bit mentally exhausted. After a nap, I'm much better."
Seeing the food Lu Yichen had brought back still untouched on a bench, she disapproved: "Dad, you can't do this. I know you're worried about my third brother, but as the saying goes, 'People are iron, and food is steel.' If you don't eat and collapse, won't my third brother feel guilty when he wakes up?"
Luo Haotian's eyes were red as he murmured, "I just feel distressed and have no appetite."
