Zhuo Zhengxiu took a look inside, then turned to look at his son, who had noticeably lost weight over the past few days.
"Junyue, An An hasn't been sleeping well these past two days. You should accompany her in the hospital tonight. I'll take care of the search for Ningyan. As soon as I hear anything, I'll let you know."
Zhuo Junyue had no choice but to stay. To him, both the little one and An An were the most important people.
He returned to the bedside and clasped her little hand.
She was already thin. After falling ill again, the little weight she had managed to gain seemed to have disappeared once again.
Zhuo Junyue gently stroked her hand and suddenly noticed that the birthmark on An An's palm had grown larger.
This birthmark, she had said, had been there since she was born.
But when she was just born, it was merely a small dot.
