Seeing him, Feng Qingxue's heart ached terribly. She first applied some ointment on him to treat his frostbite and chapped skin, meticulously covering the entirety of his face and hands. She then moved his legs, which were hanging over the edge of the bed, onto the bed itself. She placed his head next to Xibao, using her pillow, and finally covered him with Xibao's quilt.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Feng Qingxue greedily took in the sight of her husband, whom she hadn't seen for over a year, while occasionally glancing at her son.
Everyone said that Xibao resembled Lu Jiang, but she couldn't see any similarities between them at all.
The father and son were starkly different.
The elder was dark and thin, with sunken cheeks, while the younger was chubby and pale, with two layers of baby fat on his chin.
The elder's skin was coarse like tree bark, while the younger's was as delicate as a peeled eggshell.