After a night of vigil by Rong Shengsheng, Qinqin finally was out of life-threatening danger.
Tong Yiyue, upon hearing this news, wore an unhappy face, stood silently at the door of the ward, knocking on the wall, and cursed under her breath.
How come she didn't die?
And how could such a small child actually survive?
Li Jinghong didn't notice Tong Yiyue's expression and said happily with a smile, "That's great, that's great! As the saying goes, 'He who survives a great disaster is destined for fortune.' My precious grandson will definitely be successful in the future!! Grandfather will surely nurture you well."
Tong Yiyue snorted coldly, not wanting to listen any longer, and turned to leave, only to come face-to-face with Li Hanxian's icy, knife-like gaze, which made her shiver with fear, vaguely sensing murderous intent, and she couldn't help but take a step back.
