"Awake?" Yang Chuxia hurriedly put the food box on the table and came over.
"Mom," "Mom," the two kids saw their mother coming and consciously made room for Yang Chuxia.
"Good boys," she patted her son's head and then said to Ye Zi'an, who wanted to get up, "The injury is on your shoulder, you can't make big movements."
As she spoke, she brought over the porridge, "You can't eat greasy food with an injury, you can only drink some light porridge."
"Dad is so pitiful!" Upon hearing that he could only eat porridge, Yangyang sighed. Meat tastes so good, and dad can't even eat it.
"Mom, can I feed dad?" Lele saw Yang Chuxia blowing on the porridge and asked.
"You better not, you can hardly hold the bowl steady with your small hands, let mom do it."