Chapter 115 will have to wait.
The sunlight was lovely, streaming through the open curtains of the ward. The air didn't have the usual smell of disinfectant found in hospitals; instead, it carried a refreshing grapefruit scent.
Song Jingrong sat in front of Xie Chengjun's hospital bed, using her hands, which had been styled with long almond-shaped manicures, to remove the white seeds from Xie Chengjun's red grapefruit.
Even though she's well past forty, she looks like she's under thirty. Not long ago, when she was photographed by the media, she even trended on social media because of her excellent maintenance.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she was about to cry.
"Why are you crying?" Xie Chengjun couldn't ignore the beauty's tears, especially since he and Song Jingrong had been together for over twenty years. "Stop crying, or you'll get wrinkles again."
"You must take care of yourself," Song Jingrong said, her voice choked with emotion. "Xiaoxiao isn't married yet."
Xie Chengjun leaned against the bed, his voice weak but still carrying a hint of mockery: "Life and death are predestined, wealth and honor are determined by fate. I'm over seventy, and I've lived several good decades. It's not a loss for me to leave now. Maybe you're even planning to find a younger one after I die."
"Don't talk nonsense!" Song Jingrong suddenly looked up, large tears immediately falling down her cheeks. "What will I do if you leave? What will happen to Xiaoxiao? We'll be all alone. Your other sons and daughters will devour us alive..."
"Xiaoxiao is so successful, who would dare to bully her?"
Song Jingrong has the typical appearance of an oriental beauty. Xie Chengjun liked her because of her pitiful appearance. Her silent red eyes would make Xie Chengjun feel sorry for her, but her unreasonable behavior would give him a headache.
Although Song Jingrong was not very bright, she understood Xie Chengjun, whom she had tried to please her whole life, very well. She could hear the impatience in Xie Chengjun's words and dared not continue to act coquettishly.
There was a soft knock on the door three times. Xie Chengjun said, "Come in," and the nurse pushed the door open and entered.
"I'm here for an IV drip," the young nurse said politely, holding an IV bag and syringe, ready to attach it.
"When I came at noon, hadn't you just changed your equipment?" Song Jingrong asked.
"Yes, Mr. Xie changes it three times a day."
Song Jingrong instinctively became alert, squinted at the IV bottle, and then glanced at the monitor next to the hospital bed.
Before being discovered by a talent scout and becoming a model, she worked as a nurse in Country A. She remembers clearly that for patients with heart and kidney failure, large amounts of intravenous fluids are equivalent to slow poisoning.
After Xie Chengjun was poisoned, his heart and kidney functions began to fail.
She stood up and blocked the bed, her tone accusatory and menacing: "You're still giving him an IV in his current condition? Are you trying to kill him?"
The nurse was stunned, her face turning pale: "This...this is the treatment plan that the doctor decided on after discussing the patient's condition with the family..."
"I'm a family member, how come I didn't know?" Song Jingrong's voice suddenly rose. "Who discussed this with you? What exactly are you trying to do?"
The nurse panicked: "I... I'll get the doctor to explain to you..."
"No need!" Xie Chengjun suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse but tinged with anger. "My wife knows nothing, she's just a half-empty bottle making a lot of noise..."
Before he could finish his sentence, he suddenly coughed, his chest heaving violently, as if even breathing had become difficult.
"Alright, alright." He forced back a cough, waved his hand, and said, his face ashen. "Doctors? What doctor understands my wretched body better than me? Don't bother them. Dr. Xiao is so busy, don't add to his troubles."
Song Jingrong noticed Xie Chengjun's unusual behavior. Although she didn't know why, she immediately stopped insisting: "I might be mistaken... I became a nurse more than 20 years ago."
“It’s alright, ma’am,” the nurse nodded slightly to Song Jingrong when she saw that she was no longer in a difficult position. “I’ll leave after I change Mr. Xie’s IV bag.”
“…Chengjun,” Song Jingrong burst into tears as soon as the nurse left the room. “Who did they consult with? They must be trying to harm you. I remember very clearly that you shouldn’t have had so many IV drips in your condition.”
She cried, her face streaked with tears. Xie Chengjun glanced at her wearily, sighed, and then silently closed his eyes.
Who made the decision? Can't she figure it out yet?
If someone has the guts and the ability to do this, do they really care whether others know or not?
"Jingrong, calm down. I have a bit of a headache. Tomorrow... I'll ask Dalia to come keep me company."
Song Jingrong stood there, stunned, staring at him in disbelief.
Why is it that someone is clearly trying to harm him, and I want to help him find out the truth, but he doesn't want to see me?
Song Jingrong's fingers trembled, and she almost dropped her handbag. She gritted her teeth, said nothing, turned around, pushed open the door, and walked out.
The corridor was dimly lit, and a low male voice could be heard from afar.
Xie Chen was standing not far away against the wall, dressed in a beige casual outfit, yet still exuding an air of authority and indifference. His posture was as straight as a pine tree, with broad shoulders and a clean, stern profile.
Song Jingrong seemed to understand something in an instant, and her long fingernails unconsciously dug into her palm.
"Yes, he also needs to know how to wrap small wontons. The wonton wrappers are square... There's only a little meat and very little wrapper. If he's from that area, he should know that."
"Yes, it doesn't have to be authentic Huaiyang cuisine. Home-style dishes with the flavors of City A will do."
Song Jingrong stood there, as if her feet were nailed to the ground.
The contrast between the young Xie Chen and the terminally ill Xie Chengjun lying in the hospital bed was so stark that even she, as oblivious as she was, realized that something seemed to be about to change in the Xie family.
"Okay, have her come over now. I'll be home in an hour."
Song Jingrong stood there, waiting for Xie Chen to finish his call.
She knew Xie Chen had seen her, and she had to go and say hello to him.
"I don't know what dishes to specify, you can just bring whatever you think is best... It's fine, we have food at home, anyone else can come over."
It seemed like Xie Chen had ended the call. He put down his phone and looked up.
Their eyes met. Xie Chen had obviously seen her long ago, but he neither avoided her nor greeted her. He just glanced at her indifferently, as if waiting for her to speak first.
Song Jingrong took a breath, composed herself, and said softly, "Xie Chen."
Xie Chen nodded slightly: "Aunt Jingrong, are you here to see Father?"
"Yes, you are too?" Song Jingrong tried her best to make her voice sound calm and normal.
“A comrade-in-arms was injured and hospitalized,” Xie Chen said truthfully. “He was also in this hospital, so I came to check on my father’s condition.”
“Oh,” Xie Chen had many grievances against Xie Chengjun in the past, but he had never been so open about his indifference towards Xie Chengjun as he was now. This abnormality, combined with what she had discovered in the ward, made Song Jingrong’s heart almost jump out of her throat. “Then you two talk. I have something to do, so I’ll go back first.”
Xie Chen stared at her, his gaze making her feel uneasy.
She lowered her head, avoiding Xie Chen's gaze, trying her best to make her behavior appear no different from usual. Her legs felt weak, and her high heels felt like they were stepping on cotton.
"Take care, Auntie," Xie Chen said slowly.
...
"...But that's too troublesome. If you want to do it, I'll do it with you and help you out."
Voices could be heard coming from the kitchen; the chef applicant must have arrived, and Mu Yan was probably talking to her.
The kitchen door opened first, and Mu Yan smiled and said, "Xie Chen, you're back."
Three dishes and a soup were already laid out on the dining table in the living room, looking and smelling delicious, and the heat had not yet dissipated.
Upon seeing Xie Chen enter, the chef immediately put down his chopsticks and jogged over to serve the last dish, squirrel-shaped mandarin fish.
Xie Chen glanced at it and said, "Has it been cooked for a long time? You don't need to wait for me next time. Just urge him to eat when he's hungry."
"No, it was just cooked. The sauce for the mandarin fish was just reduced at the end, you can see the dishes are still piping hot... Oh, okay, I've got it."
“We have to wait,” Mu Yan immediately retorted seriously.
Xie Chen looked at his serious expression and was at a loss for words: "Okay, then I'll come back earlier from now on. I'm not busy with work, so I won't come home very late."
The chef prepared a ham and tofu soup, a squirrel-shaped mandarin fish, a braised pork chop with scallions, and a dish of pickled bamboo shoots and pork belly. It was clear that the ham and tofu soup required skillful knife work, the braised pork chop with scallions required tender but not dry pork with a rich scallion aroma, and the squirrel-shaped mandarin fish required skillful knife work and frying techniques.
Her skills are indeed very solid, there's nothing wrong with them, and she has a kind face.
"Oh, right, gentlemen, there are some wontons over there. You can have a little less of those."
Xie Chen followed her gaze and saw a small basket in the food preparation area filled with wontons, which she must have made herself.
"Is it to your liking?" Xie Chen asked.
The squirrel-shaped mandarin fish dish was probably a test for Xiaoqin. Xie Chen didn't eat much, and neither did Mu Yan. It was clear that neither of them liked it very much.
"Mmm, it's delicious. Squirrel Mandarin Fish... Xiaoqin cooked it quite well. This dish is like this, sweet and sour, not particularly good with rice. I think it would be much tastier with scallion oil. Scallion oil mandarin fish is also easy to cook."
Seeing how hurriedly he was trying to salvage the squirrel-shaped mandarin fish, Xie Chen made a rough decision in his mind: Mu Yan really liked this chef.
"Gentlemen, I'm going to make the wontons. Would you like me to cook a little less?"
Mu Yan had already eaten more than half a bowl of rice. Xie Chen, worried that he might overeat, answered for him, "We each have seven or eight pieces, just to taste it."
For some reason, Mu Yan seemed a little discouraged after hearing Xie Chen say that. However, when he finished eating the rice and the wontons were served, he smelled the aroma of the wontons and felt that Xie Chen might be right.
I feel a bit full, but my mouth still wants to eat a little more. If I cook too much, I might accidentally finish it all.
Overeating doesn't usually cause any harm, but lately, probably due to a false pregnancy, I've been having a terrible appetite for the next meal if I accidentally overeat.
After finishing her wontons, Mu Yan ladled out some of the pickled bamboo shoot and pork soup and drank a few sips. At this point, Xie Chen had already signed the contract with the chef and saw her out.
Xie Chen went back into the kitchen. Mu Yan was putting the dishes into the dishwasher. Xie Chen picked up a dishcloth and wiped the table clean.
"Are you in a bad mood today...?" Mu Yan asked hesitantly.
[Author's Note]
I've decided to start writing more diligently from tomorrow to finish the story faster. If I can't do it, then just pretend I didn't say anything, hahaha.
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