Lu Qin’s injury was on his forearm. His shirt was stained with blood, and when bandaging him, they simply cut off the sleeve. He discreetly watched as Pei Rong spread his own bedsheet on another bed.
As Pei Rong bent down, the beautiful man’s back looked somewhat thin. His waist was slender, his legs straight, and his ankles, clad in slippers, were delicate and fair. The last time he saw Pei Rong, he was wearing tiger-head shoes, ready to flee.
Even in slippers, he was prepared to leave at any moment.
Lu Qin silently observed the hospital room. There were obvious signs of someone living there. For instance, he saw a few buckets of instant noodles hidden in the high cupboard, barely visible. The fruit basket on the low cabinet had some loose change tossed inside.
Although he had guessed that Pei Rong was probably here at this sanatorium to take care of Aunt Zhao, Lu Qin still felt a bit uneasy.
The villa was so close by, the fish soup could stay warm on the way here. Living at home was much more comfortable and convenient. So why did Pei Rong open up another hospital room?
Was it because his health wasn’t good...
Pei Rong glanced over, and Lu Qin quickly withdrew his intense gaze, fiddling with his phone with one hand.
He unknowingly clicked into some app, where someone [Nearby] had posted an update.
“A once-famous star, now lying all alone in a sanatorium on oxygen [heartbroken].”
The accompanying picture was so heavily pixelated it was unrecognizable, but one could vaguely tell it was a man wearing an oxygen mask.
There were only a few dozen comments, all curious guesses about who it might be, mostly thinking it was someone over fifty. Only a few pointed out that the posture of those long legs couldn’t possibly belong to an elderly person.
Lu Qin looked at the picture, then at the same type of hospital bed and the same woven basket hanging at the foot of the bed. His heart tightened — the person on oxygen was Pei Rong!
It turned out that childbirth had indeed left the man with lingering health issues, possibly chronic ones, requiring regular treatment. Although he claimed to be taking care of Aunt Zhao, he actually needed the sanatorium for himself and didn’t dare to tell Dundun the truth. Otherwise, why wouldn’t he stay at home?
Looking at Pei Rong again, compared to before, he’d lost at least ten pounds!
And here he was, only having a minor injury to his arm. What right did he have to complain? How could he possibly feel sorry for himself in front of Pei Rong!
Lu Qin’s lips turned even paler as he stared intensely at Pei Rong’s profile, making the beautiful man uncomfortable under his gaze.
Pei Rong finished putting on the pillowcase, picked up Dundun, placed him on the bed, and handed him a small piece of bread. He looked at Lu Qin in confusion. “Does your wound hurt?”
Feeling restless, Lu Qin got out of bed, pulled Pei Rong into the bathroom, and shut the door.
Pei Rong, unwilling to struggle with a patient, waited until the door was closed before asking, “What are you doing?”
No way, couldn’t he hold out even after just five stitches?
Lu Qin took out a photo, his voice low and filled with pain: “What’s going on? Why are you using oxygen? Is there a problem with your lung function?”
Pei Rong glanced down. Only doctors and nurses could pass by his hospital room, so it must have been that time the door wasn’t closed properly, and a photo was taken. The hospital staff had all signed contracts stating they wouldn’t disclose patient privacy, especially not Pei Rong’s. It’s likely that some employee was holding onto a big secret they couldn’t share—perhaps out of genuine concern, or maybe just wanting to post some news. Out of curiosity, they made a vague post online.
Pei Rong opened the comments section and saw that the poster hadn’t replied to a single comment. All the dozens of comments were from two days ago. No one on the internet seemed to care, so he didn’t take it to heart. He thought he’d mention it at the next meeting and have them delete it.
Lu Qin was still anxiously waiting for an answer. The pain in his arm magnified tenfold, spreading through his whole body.
Thirty seconds. If Pei Rong didn’t answer within thirty seconds, he was going to drag him to his own hospital for a full-body examination.
After more than thirty seconds, if Pei Rong still didn’t give an answer, Lu Qin wouldn’t believe a word he said anymore. He would only trust hard data from machines.
Pei Rong nodded slightly. “Yeah, my lungs exploded from too much anger.”
Lu Qin said, “I’ll immediately contact an expert for a consultation...”
Wait, what did Pei Rong just say?
Lu Qin asked, “What did you just say?”
Pei Rong pointed at the timestamp on the photo. “At this time, what were you saying?”
Lu Qin’s excellent memory instantly replayed a conversation he had with Dundun, where they had defamed Pei Rong by saying he was in jail.
So, at that time, was Dundun’s watch in call mode?
“...” President Lu’s face went from pale to flushed, his once proud stance becoming somewhat stiff.
Pei Rong said coldly, “Just finding something to ease my boredom. There wasn’t any oxygen inside.”
President Lu exposed his own embarrassing past, losing all his dignity as he returned to the bed. He pulled up the oxygen mask to check and found that the air inlet hadn’t even been removed.
He looked at the mischievous child across the bed eating wheat bread, took a deep breath, and, like a forgiving father, decided to let it go.
Chasing a wife sometimes required leveraging some advantages from having a privileged son.
Pei Dundun stretched out his hand, offering a small piece of bread with its golden crust already nibbled off: “Daddy, do you want some?”
Looking at his clean, chubby little boy, Lu Qin felt his fatherly love swell up. “Thank you, Dundun, you go ahead and eat it. Daddy still has some.”
Pei Dundun climbed off the bed, pulled Lu Qin’s arm over, puffed up his cheeks, and blew on it: “Daddy, it doesn’t hurt.”
Lu Qin swallowed down the phrase “it doesn’t hurt.” To handle Pei Rong, he needed to be humble and learn from the little child. Pei Ge was the one who best understood Pei Rong’s moods and limits.
Judging by how the little child couldn’t even bear to tear off a dirty piece of gauze, Lu Qin concluded that the “feigned suffering” was indeed the president’s trump card.
Proper application yields twice the result with half the effort.
It was still early, and Aunt Zhao next door hadn’t gone to sleep yet. Lu Qin felt it was a bit rude to come over without any preparation, but since he was already here, it wouldn’t be right not to pay a visit.
Waiting for Pei Rong to “meet the parents” was a long journey, and Lu Qin could only let Dundun lead the way and find his own path.
Pei Dundun knocked on the door and called out, “Grandma, it’s Dundun.”
A caregiver opened the door, and Aunt Zhao looked at Dundun with surprise and delight. “Why are you here so late?”
Then she noticed the tall man standing behind Dundun. In the brief exchange of glances, she understood who he was.
Pei Dundun introduced, “This is my Daddy Lu. He got hurt protecting my dad and me.”
Aunt Zhao asked, “What happened?”
Lu Qin responded, “There was a power outage at home, just a minor accident. Pei Rong and Dundun are both fine, so no need to worry, Aunt Zhao.”
Aunt Zhao sighed with relief and almost said “thank you,” but then thought, this was what President Lu was supposed to do, anyway.
“Were you scared at the hospital, Dundun?” Aunt Zhao asked with concern.
Pei Dundun shook his little head and gently pinched Grandma Zhao’s leg with his small hand. “With Dad and Grandma here, I’m not afraid. Grandma, get well soon.”
The two hospital rooms were arranged very cozily, just like home. Pei Dundun didn’t feel much of a difference and instinctively lowered his presence when he saw the nurse.
The one who needed an injection was Dad; the nurse didn’t notice Dundun.
After not seeing her for a while, Pei Dundun had a lot to say.
Lu Qin left Dundun here to chat with Aunt Zhao and returned to Pei Rong’s room.
Pei Rong had taken a shower during this break and was drying her hair when he saw Lu Qin. He said, “You should go to bed early tonight.”
“By the way, what do you want to eat? The cafeteria has some late-night snacks.”
Most of the residents in the nursing home were elderly, so the food was mostly soft and easy to digest, suitable for a late-night snack.
Lu Qin frowned, looking uncomfortable as he sat on the bed. “I want to take a shower first.”
