When Wen Wan returned, she happened to see her husband giving medicine to their son.
Jinbao leaned weakly against his father's arm, his little hands powerless but still clutching Song Wei's clothes tightly, and his eyelids drooped as if in a daze.
The medicine was bitter, and every time Song Wei fed him, he had to softly comfort him.
The little one had barely taken a sip before he wrinkled his brows and wanted to spit it out, but Song Wei's gentle voice soothed him, and in the end he didn't cry or fuss, and obediently swallowed it down.
Standing at the door, Wen Wan watched her husband's skilled movements in feeding the baby medicine and recalled the scene when Jinbao fell ill on the journey to Beijing.
