Lian Xinying, though she hadn't called again, was very worried about him.
His temper was foul and stubborn; if he said he wouldn't take medicine, he wouldn't, and if he said he wouldn't sleep, he definitely wouldn't sleep either.
How could a cold get better this way?
Stepping out of the bedroom, Lian Xinying saw her son lying beside the coffee table, leisurely drinking yogurt. She immediately went over and took the yogurt from his hands.
"You can't eat cold things when you have a cold," Lian Xinying said as she held him and sat on the sofa, then poured him a cup of warm water to drink.
Xiaocheng shook his head and muttered, "Mom, I wasn't eating something cold, I was drinking something cold."
"You can't drink cold stuff either! Are you cold? Mommy will get some clothes to put on you," Lian Xinying said, touching his small hand, which didn't feel very warm.
With a grunt, Xiaocheng pointed to his bulging backpack.
"Mommy, the clothes are in the backpack!"
