Chapter 35 Why doesn't Mommy want Momo...

After just a few words of description, Shang Youqing felt a sharp pain in her throat again. She responded slowly and heavily, her knuckles turning white from pinching herself.

Butler Chen took Shang Youqing to the elevator and, as Mr. He had instructed before, took her to the outside of the young master's room and quietly retreated. Shang Youqing

stood at the door of the room, which was not completely closed. She could clearly hear the baby's intermittent sobbing and He Cong's low coaxing voice coming from the room, "Well, Daddy knows, Momo, please take your fingers out first." Shang Youqing

gently opened the door and saw He Cong standing by the windowsill with his back to her, his neck slightly drooped, holding the baby and coaxing him.

His shirt, which used to be neat and crisp, was now wrinkled and messy, but He Cong didn't care. He gently placed his palm on He Zhimo's little head to soothe him, but the little guy was still burning with pain.

The little one hugged his father's neck tightly with sobs, and lay on his father's shoulder. He had cried so hard that all the moisture was about to evaporate. He also sucked his little finger and sobbed and bit it incoherently. He

was coaxed by He Cong in a low voice and just took out his bitten and swollen finger, but he pouted again and cried even harder with a hoarse voice.

"Let me hold it for a while?"

He Cong's tall figure paused, and he slowly turned around with the baby in his arms. He saw Shang Youqing, who had come over at some point, standing behind him, looking

at the little baby in his arms, and his hand had been stretched out awkwardly. He Cong lowered his eyes to look at her, then looked at the slender hand she stretched out. After a few seconds, he said "yes", and held the baby to her very slowly and gently, and reminded in a low and hoarse voice, "Momo's back bones hurt a lot, hold it gently."

"Okay..."

Shang Youqing responded softly from his throat several times, and when he took the little guy from He Cong's palm, his movements were extremely cautious.

A burning breath came from the father and son. When Shang Youqing hugged He Zhimo, he truly felt how hot the little guy's body was.

Her hands almost trembled, but were supported by He Cong's warm palms in time. He looked down at her, "Be careful."

Shang Youqing nodded and held He Zhimo more carefully. Her expression seemed calm, but her irregular breathing had exposed her panic at the moment, "Why is it so hot..."

He Cong told her everything about He Zhimo's condition, "Momo just had a fever-reducing injection two hours ago, but it didn't work. He had a fever again half an hour ago. This time... the fever is more serious than the previous times."

Shang Youqing listened while holding He Zhimo's head in the palm of her hand. As soon as she brought the child back to the bed and sat down, the little cub in her arms buried his head in her neck, arched his little head and cried hoarsely, "Mom... Mom... Momo misses you so much..."

Along with the hoarse crying voice, small pieces of burnt feathers fell from the side of Shang Youqing's neck, and several pieces floated on Shang Youqing's arm that was holding the cub.

Shang Youqing stared at the familiar feathery shapes that settled on her forearm, her chest heaving slightly, her mind in a state of confusion.

In that moment, cradling the burning little creature, she couldn't calm down even a little. She ignored He Cong's presence, gathering healing energy from her fingertips and pouring it continuously into He Zhimo's body.

Even as the little creature's body temperature gradually cooled under her cooling energy, Shang Youqing couldn't fully relax.

She pulled the little creature's clothes up, and sure enough, she saw the swollen, painful protrusions on its thin shoulder blades.

No wonder He Cong had just said He Zhimo's back bones hurt.

He Cong, a human, didn't understand the reason, but Shang Youqing saw it instantly. The reason for the protrusions...

She continued to pour her energy over the little creature's thin shoulder blades, patiently soothing the swelling and pain bit by bit.

He Zhimo's tiny hands clung tightly to Shang Youqing's neck, his voice nearly choking with sobs, only intermittent gasps for air.

After the infusion of spiritual energy, the cub felt like it was immersing itself in such a warm and numb place for the first time. His head was spinning with fever, and for a moment, he thought he was dreaming.

His tiny hands clung even tighter, fearing that if he loosened even a little, the warmth of his mother's breath would vanish. He choked, biting a small corner of Shang Youqing's clothes, sobbing hoarsely, "Mommy... Mommy, why don't you want Momo..."

Aside from the cub's intermittent, almost hoarse sobs, the room was completely silent.

It was then that Shang Youqing's tense mind finally seemed to relax a little. Unsure how to respond, she slowly realized what was happening.

Belatedly, she raised her head, only to meet He Cong's deep, dark eyes.

When she had just been sending healing spiritual energy to He Zhimo, He Cong had been standing a few steps away, staring at her silently from beginning to end.

He Cong's face was deep and stern, and the bones of his wrists bulged at his sides. After meeting her gaze, his gaze slowly shifted downwards, resting on the slender white fingertips into which she had just poured her spiritual energy, his eyes filled with the potential for a turbulent storm.

At that moment, Shang Youqing's heart trembled slightly, as if sparks were burning through her fingertips inch by inch.

She was about to say something when the little cub in her arms kicked his legs in pain again, his eyes misty with burning, and in a confused state of mind, he tugged at the corner of her clothes on his shoulder, biting and pulling, sobbing, "It hurts, Mommy, Momo is in pain..."

Shang Youqing immediately lowered her head to rub the cub's head and injected soothing spiritual energy again.

She had just experienced Shang You's first tail molting, so how could she not know that the spiritual healing she had just applied could only temporarily alleviate the burning sensation on the little creature, but it wouldn't completely reduce He Zhimo's fever...

And the key to completely reducing He Zhimo's fever lay in—

Shang Youqing thought, looking up at He Cong again. Without paying attention to what he was thinking, she simply ordered him, "Come here."

The storm in He Cong's eyes seemed to freeze for a second when he heard this. He walked over with a sullen face and said nothing, standing straight and obediently at the edge of the bed. Before he could ask, Shang Youqing said, "Give me your hand."

Finally, He Cong's thin lips twitched coldly. "What do you mean?"

The little creature was still crying in pain in her arms, and Shang Youqing didn't have the energy to explain. She freed one hand and grabbed his slender hand, bringing it to her lips without a word. She lowered her head and bit down on one of his fingers.

He Cong was caught off guard and hissed softly as the numbing, soft touch enveloped his fingertips.

His finger knuckles moved slightly between her soft lips, and it was clear that he could break free immediately. But He Cong didn't. His dark eyebrows drooped slightly, and

he pursed his thin lips again and again, allowing her to bite his fingers until they bled.