Yan Congze, having cried himself out, leaned against Sun Qinglian and fell asleep.
The nanny beside them let out a sigh of relief, "The young master has finally fallen asleep after crying for so long; this servant was terribly worried."
"You've worked hard," Sun Qinglian, stroking her obedient grandson's hair and holding the little one in her arms, felt a wave of contentment as she noticed how his features resembled those of her daughter.
Had he resembled Xiao Pingfeng more, Sun Qinglian would have felt an indescribable discomfort at this moment.
From ancient times, the elderly have always had their particular considerations and attention to facial features and surnames.
Sun Qinglian cradled little Xiaocong in her arms, then arose and entered the house, where she reclined on a soft couch, gently rocking him. She smiled at the following nanny, "You've been tired all day; go rest first."
