Shi Yuhuan leaned over to kiss her forehead: "Yes, I'm here, I've come to take you and our child home."
"Our child!" Song Qinghuan, having given birth, thought of her own child for the first time.
She turned her gaze and then saw a baby crib made of logs next to the bed, with a small baby lying inside, sleeping calmly.
Song Qinghuan instinctively reached out, pulling the crib a bit.
It seemed to disturb the baby, whose little face scrunched up, and then she started to cry out loud.
Song Qinghuan immediately felt a bit helpless and showed a helpless smile to Shi Yuhuan.
Shi Yuhuan picked up the small baby from the log crib. The little one, who had been crying with her eyes closed, suddenly stopped crying, and then slowly opened one eye. Her tiny brow furrowed and, after glancing at Shi Yuhuan, she closed her eyes again, quieting down as if she had fallen asleep.
