"Mom, this is a drawing of my sister. Does it look like her?"
Within the double occupancy room of the Hematology Department, Deng Yang showcased his drawing to Zhao Xiaohui. His ordinarily pale face was now showing some color, enhancing his delicate and handsome features.
"Mom?" Seeing her in a daze, Deng Yang waved his fingers in front of her.
Zhao Xiaohui promptly returned to reality, "Huh? What did you say, Yangyang?"
Deng Yang furrowed his brow, "Mom, are you worried about something? You seem unhappy."
"Not at all, Yangyang. Your surgery was successful. Mom's not had time to be anything but happy."
Even though Zhao Xiaohui was smiling, there was always a trace of worry between her brows.
Deng Yang held Zhao Xiaohui's hand, "Mom, when can I leave the hospital?"
"Let's wait a bit more. We must listen to the doctor. If they're not allowing us to leave now, there must be a reason."