"Ouch, my little ancestor, don't cry, don't cry!" An Xuan had never seen such a commotion before, and in a flurry he picked up Wangzi, trying to soothe him, but Little Wangzi was using his arms and legs, wriggling like a rolling caterpillar, and even in An Xuan's arms, An Xuan was struggling to hold onto him.
The child's piercing cries were especially loud in the quiet room, and as An Xuan, drenched in sweat, was trying to console him, the door of the room was suddenly pushed open with a bang. When he saw his foster mother standing in the doorway wearing a coat, he let out a long sigh of relief, looking at her as if she was his savior.
"Mom, Wangzi is crying."
"I heard it. Wangzi usually sleeps through the night and rarely wakes up in the middle of it. What's happened today?" Aunt Li murmured softly as she took Wangzi into her arms and started to soothe him in a low voice.
