Poison

At this moment, Su Qingqing was having a high fever. Her small face was flushed red. Strands of sweat-soaked hair clung to her cheeks as if she was experiencing immense pain. Her dry lips were pale, and she occasionally mumble a few words as she lay on the bed.

Seeing Su Qingqing in such agony, Su Qian's heart felt like it was being slowly tortured by a blunt knife. It was so painful that she could barely breathe.

"Ye'er, you're injured too. You'd better go back and rest early. Your sister has me guarding her. She'll definitely be fine." Su Qian looked at her precious son gently and patted Su Ye's head comfortingly.

Su Ye lay weakly on the bed and lowered his head guiltily. "I'm sorry, Mother. It's all my fault."