Huangfu Ye could tell the little guy was saying one thing but feeling another. He reached out to pinch his cheek, then left.
Only father and son were left in the ward. Beiming Han really had caught a chill today; he couldn't hold back a couple of coughs. Xia Tian immediately jumped off the bed and asked, "Do you want some water?"
"It's fine, you just sit. I can do it myself." Beiming Han was going to get up and pour himself some water.
"You're sick, just admit you're sick. What's the point of acting tough?" Xia Tian moved even faster than him, grabbed the thermos, poured a cup of warm water, and handed it over.
"Thanks." Beiming Han took it, feeling a gentle warmth in his heart.
He drained the water, put the cup back, then reached out and held his son's small hand. It was a strange, wonderful feeling, one he really liked.
"Xia Tian, you care about me too, don't you?"
