How to Raise a Baby in an Apocalypse - Chapter 222

Yun Tao steps forward, gently taking Heng Heng from Liu Yuan’s arms and placing him on the quilt. Then, he reaches out and carefully pulls Liu Yuan up, his movements tender, almost like a husband helping his wife.

“Liu Yuan, do you know who I am?” he asks softly.

Liu Yuan, unconscious, only lets out a faint hum as she continues to mumble the lullaby. Drool begins to trickle from the corner of her mouth.

Without another word, Yun Tao carries Liu Yuan out.

Anran crouches beside the stroller, covering her mouth as she sobs. She tries to suppress it, but the grief is overwhelming. She cries desperately, her heart aching unbearably.

Even though she said that she and Liu Yuan had gone their separate ways, now that Liu Yuan is gone, the pain is real. She is truly, deeply heartbroken.

Outside the maternity store, Little Mint stands motionless, her face numb. She watches everything in silence, not saying a word. When Yun Tao returns alone, no one asks where he has taken Liu Yuan.

Anran doesn’t ask. Little Mint can’t ask.

Heng Heng curls up on the bed, letting out occasional sobs. Yun Tao sits beside him the entire time. The air is heavy with silence.

Anran doesn’t know how she will break the news to Heng Heng when he wakes up. She can’t bring herself to say it. Instead, she takes Doll in her arms and wanders to the children’s playground.

Her mind is filled with endless thoughts—about the apocalypse, about these tragedies, about why the world holds so much pain and loss.

Who caused all this? Who is responsible?

Later, after a brief nap, Heng Heng wakes up crying for his mother. Anran can’t bear to listen. She remains in the children’s playground, holding Doll tightly and crying silently.

At least Yun Tao is taking care of Heng Heng. That is good—more than she could ask for.

She thinks about how one day, Heng Heng will face the same pain she has—watching his mother leave him. She knows what that pain feels like. She once thought she would never recover from losing her own mother. But time has passed, and somehow, she has survived.

Doll in her arms wriggles, its tiny hands struggling slightly under her tight grip. Realizing this, Anran loosens her hold, lowers her head, and gazes at the little one’s sleeping face. Even in sleep, Doll’s expression is restless.

Hearing the soft, dissatisfied hums, Anran can’t help but cry again.

Sometimes, when you have something precious, you must cherish it. Life is only so long. Perhaps, at the next turn, she and this child will be separated—forever.

For now, she can only be grateful for one more day together.

She doesn’t know how long she cries. The sky gradually darkens, and eventually, Heng Heng’s sobs fade. He must have tired himself out.

Lying next to Doll on the foam mat in the children’s playground, Anran stares blankly, lost in the despair of this world.

A faint buzzing sound reaches her ears. Mosquitoes.

Anran feels exhausted. The weather is becoming more and more unnatural. It is December—why are there still mosquitoes in Xiangcheng?

She wants to ignore them, to let them bite if they want. But the buzzing is too irritating. She can tolerate it—her skin is thick enough—but Doll sleeping beside her isn’t as lucky.

Sighing, Anran pushes herself up and goes downstairs. She picks a lily and places it next to Doll. As the flower’s delicate petals and roots sway slightly, the buzzing stops.

The mosquitoes vanish.

Has the lily eaten them?

A realization strikes her. She has awakened a new ability—using her powers to repel mosquitoes and kill insects!