Shen Qinghuan rushed over.

"Grandma, how is grandpa?"

Mrs. Shen was also a little anxious: "It's a headache."

The old man was lying on the bed, his face a little pale and his brows furrowed tightly.

Shen Qinghuan walked over and took the old man's pulse.

The old man opened his eyes, saw that it was Shen Qinghuan, moved, and tried to sit up.

"Don't move yet." Shen Qinghuan held the old man down, carefully felt his pulse, and breathed a sigh of ...