A few days later, at the Zhu villa.
"*Cough cough*"
Chyou anxiously looked at her father and felt saddened to see her father sick. "Dada is coughing a lot."
Xiaosi looked slightly pale as he smiled. "I am fine, dear."
"No, you are not," Caihong stepped in, bringing a bowl of warm ginger soup. She narrowed her eyes. "If you had dried yourself after playing with Chyou in the bath last night, then you wouldn't have caught a cold."
Xiaosi averted his eyes. "I was just a little wet…"
She squinted her gaze. "Yet you are coughing right now, aren't you?"
He mumbled something to himself but couldn't retort anything.
"I am sorry."
"You better be."
She sat beside him. "Drink this soup now. You will feel better."
She touched his forehead and pursed her lips. "You have a bit of fever."
Chyou was on the verge of crying. "Dada sick because of me."
