Back to the 60s: The Struggle Career of a Charmed Wife

Lu Jiang raised his head, his face was full of exhaustion and his eyes were bloodshot. Only he would look this embarrassed on the battlefield.

"No need," Lu Jiang said in a hoarse voice, "Let the children and their mothers be alone for a while. Don't go in and disturb them. Zhuangzhuang... I know you have tried your best."

Doctor Zhang felt sour, and the little nurse who followed him shed tears.

It's so pitiful. There has never been a time when they hated their powerlessness as much as they did today.

"Commander of the Army..." Doctor Zhang bent down and patted his shoulder, "Don't forget, you and your sister-in-law, there are four children at home waiting for you to take care of them!"

After being a doctor for so many years, he has become accustomed to seeing children die young. In which year and month does he not witness the death of several children with his own eyes? The older ones were six or seven years old, and the younger ones were just born. A small wind chill could kill them. Some even died in his arms. As time passed and the number of times increased, even he himself became numb.

After Dr. Zhang and the nurse left, Guo Xiuying and Wang Sanbao arrived hand in hand.

After all, they were worried and wanted to see Zhuang Zhuang's condition and continue to think of a way to watch him leave. They really couldn't do it. After all, they delivered the children they often took care of with their own hands!

"Qingxue is inside." Lu Jiang stood up, "She is thinking of a way. My sister-in-law and eldest sister should not go in and disturb her, okay?"

After hearing this, Guo Xiuying and Wang Sanbao immediately stopped and sighed deeply.

Feng Qingxue could hear clearly inside. She looked down at her infant son who was breathing weakly, and big tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Zhuang Zhuang, Zhuang Zhuang, you must be strong. Mom is with you, dad is protecting you outside, and we will defeat the disease together! Zhuang Zhuang, don't live up to your name. The name given to you by the founding leader of the country, at home. The nickname given to you by the old people, you have to be strong, you are strong, you have to be strong."

In response to her, there were only weak cries, cries that came out when she felt uncomfortable.

No one came to disturb him, so Lu Jiang came in and locked the door, "Qingxue, I'll hold Zhuangzhuang while you rest for a while."

Feng Qingxue raised her head and looked at the injection liquid on it, "This pack is almost finished. Just keep an eye on it. When it's done, you can immediately replace it with another pack. Whether Zhuangzhuang can be safe or not is all our hope." ”

There had never been a day that felt like a year for them.

The injection entered Zhuangzhuang's body drop by drop, and the hour hand on the watch moved second by second. By the time both bottles of injection were finished, it was already past two o'clock in the morning.

After all the things used for infusion were stored in the space, Feng Qingxue hugged her little son tightly, close to his flesh.

Early in the morning, Guo Xiuying and others saw this look when they came in.

"Qingxue, you guys..."

Feng Qingxue directly planned Wang Sanbao's words, "Sister, come and see if Zhuangzhuang is feeling better?"

"Huh?" Wang Sanbao, Guo Xiuying, Doctor Zhang and others thought that Feng Qingxue was crazy. After all, Zhuang Zhuang's vital signs yesterday were really minimal, but they had to get closer.

At this sight, everyone was stunned.

Zhuang Zhuang was actually still alive, with his eyes open, and he was humming. Even though his voice was low, they didn't hear it after they came in. But when they got closer, they heard it. It was no different from the volume of a mosquito's hum.

. . . In the 1960s and 1970s, the infant mortality rate was definitely higher than official statistics, because many babies were not registered. According to several of my aunts, in the 1970s, several of my cousins ​​died after birth, and some were affected by wind. Some were caused by lung infections, hundreds of deaths, and whooping cough, not to mention my mother's generation.