After Zhang Guoqing left, Zhou Xiaozheng walked to the front of the bed. Seeing his grandson lying there quietly, he leaned over to take a closer look and gently picked up Ping'an. He examined Ping'an's little clothes, checked the thickness of the small quilt, wrapped him in his military coat, and observed his grandson's complexion closely. Only when he was sure Ping'an was comfortable did he breathe a sigh of relief.
"His nickname is Ping'an, right? Hmm, that's a good name. When I left back then, Jiao Jiao was just this big, even cuter than Little Ping'an. She pursed her tiny lips, small and delicate, didn't cry or make a fuss, unlike the kids in the military family compound who cried loudly late at night, making it hard for their parents to rest. Living close to that was really annoying.
