Meanwhile, Shen Mosheng was dashing off with Han Yingying in his arms.
Just as they were about to rush out the door, Han Yingying quickly tapped him, "Shen Mosheng, stop."
He abruptly stopped and looked at her worriedly, "Your stomach hurts, we need to go to the hospital."
"That was just a stalling tactic. How else could you have escaped Grandpa Shen's clutches?" Han Yingying sniffled, still shaken.
"Grandpa Shen is really scary. My legs are still weak. Hold me and let's sit on the sofa for a while."
"Does it really not hurt?"
"It doesn't hurt."
Shen Mosheng sat her down on the couch, his dark eyes glued to her stomach, not blinking, as if he feared a little man would suddenly pop out.
Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, Han Yingying grabbed a cushion and threw it at his face, "Stop staring."
Catching the cushion accurately, Shen Mosheng's face was full of concern, "I'm worried about your stomach pain."
"Will staring stop the pain?"
