Later on, Douya's crying gradually weakened, but he seemed listless, not as lively and rosy-cheeked as before.
He didn't sleep; he snuggled in his father's arms, quietly sobbing, his eyes red and swollen, his voice long since hoarse.
Xu Zijin didn't say anything either; at this moment, no matter what he said, little Douya wouldn't understand.
After a while, Douya, tired from crying, started to doze off, wanting to sleep.
Last night, the old lady and Xu Canyang naturally couldn't sleep because Douya didn't sleep.
Whenever he was tired from crying and wanted to sleep, Douya would toss and turn restlessly, and as soon as he bumped into the wound on his forehead, he would instantly wake up and start wailing loudly.
Thus, Xu Canyang and the old lady, who were guarding the ward, couldn't sleep at all.
Now, Douya didn't have the energy to cry anymore; after all, given his age, he had to sleep when tired.
