Su Yiru was slightly startled, hastily went to the bathroom, got a towel and a hairdryer, and then walked over to her side.
"Mama will dry your hair, if you wash your hair at night and catch a cold again, what should we do?"
"..."
Ye Mingmei bit her lips, remained silent, with a circle of redness around her eyes.
She let Su Yiru tidy her up.
The whooshing sound of the hairdryer drowned everything else out; for a long while, neither mother nor daughter spoke.
Su Yiru looked at the mottled skin beneath her bathrobe, her heart ached tremendously.
Just thinking about that image made her unable to help crying.
Yet fearing it would affect Ye Mingmei, she forcefully held it back.
Her daughter was hurt, and she, as a mother, should be the strongest at this time.
If even she faltered, what would her Mingmei do.
"Alright, your hair is dry, change your clothes, let's have dinner, it's almost nine o'clock, if you don't eat, you'll starve."
Su Yiru pulled Ye Mingmei up from the sofa.
