After hanging the bed sheets to dry, Aunt Liu returned to the kitchen to continue preparing breakfast for the uncle and nephew.
At eight o’clock, Xie Dingyuan came downstairs right on time, as usual.
His shirt was crisply ironed, not a wrinkle in sight, his coat neatly draped over one arm. Slim-fit suit pants accentuated his long legs, sharp and straight as if cut by a blade.
“Sir, breakfast will be ready in just a moment.”
He responded with a quiet “Mm,” not mentioning a word about the incident in the laundry room earlier. His expression gave nothing away either.
Naturally, Aunt Liu didn’t pry. She turned back into the kitchen and soon brought out breakfast.
“Sir, please try the new chestnut millet porridge I just learned to make. I had the nutritionist review it and adjusted the recipe so the nutritional intake is just as balanced as before—no deviation at all!”
Xie Dingyuan lowered his head and tasted it. Even a simple motion like holding a spoon revealed an uncommon elegance.
Aunt Liu clutched her apron nervously. “What do you think?”
“Not bad.” He was concise.
She let out a breath of relief, a smile reaching her eyes. “That’s good, that’s good…”
“Where’s Zhong Ziang?”
“It’s Saturday, no school today—he’s probably still asleep.”
Xie Dingyuan glanced at his watch. “Wake him up in an hour for breakfast. Lying in bed on an empty stomach can lead to gallstones.”
“Got it.”
After finishing breakfast, Xie Dingyuan prepared to leave.
Aunt Liu quickly handed him his coat. “Sir, will you be home for dinner tonight?”
“No.”
“Alright, I’ll just make dinner for the young master then.”
“Mm.”
Xie Dingyuan took the coat, changed his shoes, and was about to leave.
Aunt Liu turned back into the dining room to clear the table, bringing the dishes into the kitchen.
But when she came back out, she was startled to see that Xie Dingyuan, who should have already left, was still standing in the dining room, facing the kitchen—right in front of her.
Aunt Liu: “!” Very confused.
“That chicken soup we talked about yesterday… Did you make it?”
“Ah? Yes, I did!”
He gave a small cough. “Pack a bowl. I’ll take it to the hospital.”
Aunt Liu didn’t dare say or ask anything—she just nodded. “I’ll get it ready right away.”
“Mm. And besides the soup, it’d be best to bring some food too.”
“?” Aunt Liu could barely hide the confusion in her eyes.
Didn’t he say last night he wasn’t sending anything?
What changed overnight?
But she dared not question him. She dashed into the kitchen and quickly prepared a meal suitable for someone recovering—along with a hot thermos of chicken soup. Everything was packed up and handed to Xie Dingyuan.
“This chicken soup just came off the stove—it’s a bit hot. Better let it cool a few minutes before drinking, to avoid burning the mouth.”
“And the cucumber—it’s smashed and packed separately from the sauce, so it doesn’t get soggy. Just mix it when you’re ready to eat.”
Xie Dingyuan listened attentively, nodding from time to time.
Aunt Liu was surprised at how patient and focused he was. Normally, he didn’t have time—or interest—in hearing these things.
She became even more certain: the patient in the hospital had to be a young woman. Otherwise, why be so meticulous?
“Anything else I should keep in mind?”
Aunt Liu shook her head. “That’s all.”
“Okay.” He picked up the thermal container and left in large strides.
…
At 9 a.m., Aunt Liu had just finished cleaning the kitchen and was about to head upstairs to wake Zhong Ziang.
Unexpectedly, he came stumbling in on his own, half-asleep and dragging his slippers.
“Aunt Liu, is there food? I’m starving.”
“There is, all fresh and still warm.”
“Where’s my uncle?”
“He left already.”
“Oh.” Zhong Ziang yawned, eyes glued to the golden fried eggs on the plate, practically drooling.
“Did he say when he’d be back?”
“No, just said he wouldn’t be home for dinner.”
“Hehe…” That meant he could go to the internet café and stay there till nightfall, without worrying about his uncle dragging him back.
“Oh, and he left in a hurry to go to the hospital. Told me to make sure you eat breakfast.” Aunt Liu added another egg to his plate.
“I was just about to—” Eat.
But before he could finish, Zhong Ziang’s eyes widened. “What?! My uncle went to the hospital?!”
“Yup. Took food and chicken soup—real thoughtful…”
“When did he leave?”
“Almost forty minutes ago.”
Zhong Ziang: “…” Another tracking plan down the drain.
D*mn it!
…
City Hospital, VIP ward.
“…It’s really nothing, just a minor issue. I’ll be discharged tomorrow… Yes, please let Teacher Xu know I’ll attend the midterms on time… No need to come. The hospital air isn’t great… Okay, bye.”
Just as Jiang Fuyue hung up on her call with Wan Xiutong, Xie Dingyuan walked in.
He saw her with her phone. “Were you on a call?”
“Just finished.”
“Mm. Time for breakfast.”
She blinked. “Didn’t you say you weren’t coming today?”
Without answering, he flipped up the small bedside table and started unpacking the thermal container. His movements were noticeably more practiced than yesterday.
“Well, this technically counts as a work injury. I’d feel guilty leaving you here alone in the hospital.”
Jiang Fuyue took the chopsticks he handed over.
The meal looked amazing, and the rich aroma of chicken soup practically invaded her nostrils.
She couldn’t help swallowing her saliva.
But her mouth said, “Even if it is a work injury, the boss doesn’t need to personally deliver food, does he?”
Xie Dingyuan let out a short laugh. “You’re really going to complain about that? Can’t you just accept some kindness?”
She shrugged. “Then thanks, Boss!”
He was momentarily stunned. The irritation in his eyes faded, replaced by a faint smile. “Start with the soup—while it’s hot.”
While she drank, Xie Dingyuan mixed the cucumber.
It had already been smashed, and the seasoning was ready in a separate compartment. All he had to do was combine them and stir.
Everything was going well—until a drop of sauce splashed out during the mixing.
Instantly, his expression changed.
He set the chopsticks down and began searching for tissues. Not only did he wipe up the sauce, but he proceeded to clean the entire tray meticulously—every corner and crevice.
Once he finally finished, the furrow in his brow relaxed. But when he looked up, he found her watching him with a teasing smile in her eyes.
Xie Dingyuan froze.
Jiang Fuyue took the used tissue from his hand and tossed it into the trash beside the bed.
“All better now?” she asked.
“…Yes.”
Tsk. Looks like he wasn’t just OCD—he was a full-blown clean freak.
Jiang Fuyue continued eating quietly while Xie Dingyuan sat nearby watching her.
After she finished, he packed up everything and took the container with him.
Jiang Fuyue asked, “Heading to the lab?”
“Mm.”
She pulled a USB stick from under her pillow. “The latest optimized data model—just plug it in. No installation needed.”
He took it and slipped it into his pocket. “I’ll be back this afternoon.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He smiled. “No objection this time?”
She raised an eyebrow. “If objections worked, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
He was momentarily speechless—no comeback.
“And didn’t you say your conscience wouldn’t let you leave me here alone? As your employee, I should help you rest easy, right?”
“So I should thank you?”
She smiled sweetly. “You’re welcome.”
Xie Dingyuan: “…” Why does even her snarky attitude look so attractive?
…
Zhong Ziang, unable to track his uncle, headed to the internet café.
He played games from morning until afternoon. Eventually starving, he headed out to find food.
Unconsciously, he walked to the front of Jiang Ji.
He smacked his lips—craving a jianbing.
But the long queue in front stopped him cold. He changed course and ducked into the convenience store next door, spending five yuan on a cold sandwich. He munched on it while sniffing the aroma of the jianbing in the air.
Just… pretending he had one, too.
Mmm, delicious!
After eating, he was heading back to the café. Passing a fruit store, he suddenly heard Jiang Fuyue’s name and stopped in his tracks, ears perking up.
Inside the store—
Wan Xiutong held an apple in one hand and a pear in the other, staring at Liu Bowen in dilemma. “Which one should I buy?”
Liu Bowen thought for a moment. “Which does Jiang Fuyue like?”
“…I don’t think I’ve ever seen her eat anything in class.”
Liu Bowen twitched. “Then I don’t know. Just pick one—it’s the thought that counts. Most people eat apples or pears.”
“Is that so…” Wan Xiutong still wasn’t convinced.
Liu Bowen was getting anxious. “Hurry up! If you keep fussing, the sun will set. How are we going to make it to the hospital?”
“Hospital? What hospital?!” Another voice cut in.
They turned around to see Zhong Ziang standing nearby, eyebrows raised, looking ready to interrogate someone.
