"Sister, Grandma made you some pigeon soup; they say it's very nourishing for the body. Come on, get up and eat."
The little one opened the thermos, and immediately a fragrant aroma wafted out.
Jincheng took off his shoes, put them neatly aside, then climbed onto the bed to prop Ruanruan up, his delicate little face serious and stern.
"You're sick and shouldn't move around, Sister. Brother will feed you," he said, sitting face-to-face with Ruanruan. Jincheng had Grandma help him bring over the soup.
With a puzzled expression on her small face, Ruanruan protested, "But Brother Jincheng, I'm not sick at all. Look, my hands can still move."
As she spoke, she earnestly swung her little arms up and down to show how strong she was.
But Jincheng shook his head firmly.
"No, you're a patient now. I asked the adults, and patients need to be taken care of. Now I'm taking care of you. I'll not only feed you, Sister, but also wash your face and feet."
