"Thank you," Xiaolu said gratefully.
Years of professional experience had honed her ability to remain calm in the face of shock, but at this moment, Zhou Chucheng's words and actions filled her with warmth.
Zhou Chucheng nodded slightly but only hugged Nian'en tighter in his arms.
"Little Uncle, I can't breathe," Nian'en wriggled out from Zhou Chucheng's embrace and lifted her head from his chest.
She blinked her big eyes as she looked at Zhu Chenyang, who was wearing an oxygen mask.
"Is he dead?"
Nian'en, whose concept of life and death was still vague, blurted out such a question at this moment.
Zhou Chucheng was startled and inwardly cursed, thinking that his brother's parenting philosophy was far too progressive. Whatever Nian'en dared to ask, her father dared to answer, resulting in a two-year-old's head being filled with all sorts of messy stuff.
"Don't talk nonsense, he's just asleep," Zhou Chucheng said softly, reaching to pretend to cover Nian'en's mouth.
