Biting her teeth imperceptibly, Qin Yiren raised her eyes to look at Chu Xinian, "Promise me, okay?"
Chu Xinian lowered his eyes and met her gaze, noticing her tear-stained, reddened eyes, he found himself unable to deny her any request.
"Okay."
Qin Yiren thanked him, raising her hand to rub her damp eyelashes, and returned to the baby's hospital room.
Since the turning point of the baby's illness depended on whether there would be another fever before dawn, she stayed by the crib without stepping away, sometimes looking at the sleeping baby, sometimes at the IV drip hanging high.
Soon, the IV drip was about to end.
Chu Xinian gently lifted the baby's quilt, and slowly placed the little one's hand in his palm, forming a sharp contrast between his slender fingers and the tender little hand, "Yi Ren, your turn?"
Qin Yiren, a distinguished graduate of the medical school, could handle complex surgeries with ease, so removing a needle was no challenge.
