"When you get better, I'll be happy," An Ning said.
Yu Jingchen, exhausted, said, "I wanted to give you a proper birthday, but instead, I made you cry."
An Ning pouted, then smiled. "As long as you're alive, I'm smiling."
"Don't worry, I really can't die," Yu Jingchen joked.
The door to the hospital room opened, and a female doctor walked in. Seeing Yu Jingchen and An Ning chatting, she immediately scolded them seriously. "What's going on? Didn't I tell you to rest quietly after heart surgery? How can you still talk to the patient?"
An Ning hurriedly stood up from the floor, embarrassed. "Sorry, I forgot."
The doctor glared at An Ning again. "What's the use of apologizing to me? If the person is gone, what good is saying sorry a thousand times?"
An Ning didn't argue, knowing she was in the wrong. Why did she keep making the uncle talk?
His breath was so weak; he had no strength at all.
