Song Hanzhou’s heart plummeted, his gaze snapping to his son.
Song Shu was severely allergic to mangoes—he had a congenital acute allergy. In the past, even a trace of mango juice would leave him covered in hives, let alone accidentally eating it.
Right now, Song Shu’s little face was flushed bright red, a patch of fine red rash had already broken out across his neck, and his breathing was rapid and faint.
“Daddy… I feel awful…” Song Shu was frightened himself, his voice choked and weak.
Bai Zhiyao was filled with regret. If Song Shu’s words hadn’t thrown her into confusion earlier, she wouldn’t have been distracted and overlooked the mango pudding in the set meal, and Song Shu would never have eaten it by mistake.
But regret was useless now.
Her eyes reddened as she looked at Song Hanzhou, her voice trembling: “I’ve already called 120, but the hospital is a bit far from here, and there’s no clinic nearby…”
Song Hanzhou didn’t look at her. He helped Song Shu sit upright, quickly undid the child’s collar buttons, and did his best to make Song Shu’s breathing easier.
Only then did he raise his eyes and say in a low voice: “There’s a pharmacy across the street. Go there right now and buy a box of loratadine. Hurry!”
The man remained calm and composed as ever, but only he knew that the hand supporting Song Shu was trembling uncontrollably.
“I’ll go right away!”
Bai Zhiyao didn’t dare delay. She answered and rushed out the door with her bag clutched in her hand.
Seeing this, the restaurant’s head waiter quickly called on the staff to help find a doctor in the establishment.
“Ladies and gentlemen, is there a doctor present? A little boy is having a severe mango allergy and urgently needs help!”
Shi Miao was sitting with Qin Zhao in a booth on the other side of the Western restaurant, partially hidden by a screen.
Hearing the head waiter’s call, Shi Miao immediately stood up and identified herself. “I’m a doctor. Where’s the child?”
The head waiter’s eyes lit up, and he hurriedly pointed the way. “Over here, over here!”
Qin Zhao immediately stood up and followed behind Shi Miao, somewhat displeased that their date had been interrupted.
Shi Miao had never imagined she would run into Song Hanzhou in a situation like this, and even less that the allergic child would be Song Shu, who had registered for her outpatient clinic a while back.
Her fingers clenched. Saving a life came first—she didn’t have time to think about anything else.
Song Hanzhou watched as Shi Miao hurried over.
She was wearing a smoke-purple sleeveless gown, her slender arms dazzlingly pale under the lights. Her makeup was light, her long hair loosely curled into soft waves, and around her neck was a string of pearls.
It gave her skin a lustrous glow, an air of gentle, mature, intellectual beauty.
She was a completely different person from her casual, plain self at the hospital.
Then his gaze shifted past her and landed on the man behind her, and a flash of cold light passed through Song Hanzhou’s eyes.
Dressed up like this on purpose—was she on a date with that man?
An inexplicable surge of stifled anger rose in his chest.
All of Shi Miao’s attention was on Song Shu, and she didn’t notice Song Hanzhou’s scrutiny.
She was allergic herself, so she knew how miserable an acute allergic reaction could be—especially for a small child, where anaphylactic shock could strike at any moment.
Fortunately, she always kept loratadine in her bag. She pulled it out at once and said to the waiter nearby, “Could you bring me a cup of warm water, and find a clean small spoon?”
She dissolved the medicine and was about to feed it to Song Shu when—
Unexpectedly,
her wrist was suddenly seized by a force.
Song Hanzhou stared at her warily, full of distrust.
Shi Miao paused and explained calmly, “This is loratadine. Children can take it too—it relieves allergic symptoms quickly. His throat is already swelling; he could go into shock at any moment. We can’t wait any longer.”
Her voice was steady, carrying the composure unique to doctors.
“Don’t worry. I’m a doctor. I would never harm him.”
With those words, the man finally released her wrist and looked down at his son.
After she fed Song Shu the medicine, his symptoms eased quickly, and his breathing was no longer so labored.
Shi Miao stayed by his side until the ambulance arrived.
Song Hanzhou picked Song Shu up.
Seeing the ambulance arrive, Qin Zhao thought he could finally have some time alone with Shi Miao. He pulled out two movie tickets and was about to speak to her.
But the child’s father spoke first: “You come too.”
Song Hanzhou said to Shi Miao, “I’m not sure what drug you fed Song Shu. If anything happens to him on the way, you’ll be responsible.”
Before Shi Miao could say anything, Qin Zhao grew annoyed and couldn’t help saying, “What’s wrong with you? This young lady kindly saved your son. If she hadn’t produced that medicine in time, who knows how bad things could have gotten. You haven’t even said thank you, and now you’re accusing her of trying to harm him?”
Qin Zhao almost suspected the man was running some kind of scam, but looking at his well-dressed, distinguished air, he didn’t seem like that type.
Qin Zhao was about to advise Shi Miao to ignore the man when he saw her reply flatly, “Fine. I’ll come with you.”
Her tone was calm, without a trace of anger, as if Song Hanzhou’s suspicion were entirely reasonable.
Song Hanzhou said nothing more and stepped onto the ambulance first.
Shi Miao turned to Qin Zhao. “I’m sorry, Teacher Qin. I’m afraid I’ll have to break our appointment today. I’ve already paid for dinner—consider tonight’s meal my apology.”
She was a doctor. Having saved someone, she had to see it through to the end—regardless of who the person was, and regardless of whether he suspected her.
Without waiting to see Qin Zhao’s reaction, she gave him a nod, turned, and stepped toward the ambulance.
The doors closed, and the ambulance sped off toward the hospital.
Fortunately, thanks to Shi Miao’s emergency dose of loratadine, and with the ambulance reached before the throat swelling worsened, the child was all right.
After getting an injection in his bottom, Song Shu drifted into a drowsy sleep, still on an IV drip.
In the observation room, Song Hanzhou held his son on his lap, letting him lean against his chest. The man’s whole aura softened.
Watching from the side, Shi Miao’s thoughts suddenly drifted far away.
Seven years ago, Cheng Shimiao had never imagined what Xu Zhinian would look like as a father.
Watching Song Hanzhou’s tense yet careful manner, she thought: perhaps Song Hanzhou wasn’t a qualified or devoted father, but he must still love his son deeply—after all, blood is thicker than water.
Tonight, Shi Miao had actually seen Bai Zhiyao.
She’d watched her walk in holding Song Shu’s hand, dining together. But Bai Zhiyao probably hadn’t seen her.
A man willing to raise another woman’s child, without name or status—he must truly love him, shouldn’t he?
Shi Miao lowered her eyes and gripped her bag tightly. “Since there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.”
If she stayed any longer and Bai Zhiyao arrived and ran into them, it would only be awkward.
“Sorry to have interrupted your date tonight.” The man’s tone carried a hint of apology.
But his eyes remained cool and flat, without any genuine remorse.
“How much was the medicine? I’ll transfer it to you,” he said.
“No need,” Shi Miao said flatly. “You helped me out yesterday too, so let’s call it even.”
All square—that was best for everyone.
Song Hanzhou said nothing, his lips curling into a cold, expressionless smirk.
As Shi Miao turned to leave, he couldn’t help adding, “Your taste in men just keeps getting worse. That man doesn’t exactly look rich either. What do you even see in him?”
Seven years, and he was still like this—looking down on her, passing judgment on everything she did.
Shi Miao wasn’t in the mood to bicker with him, but just as she took a step, the hem of her dress was seized by a small tug.
The grip wasn’t strong, but it held on tight.
She heard Song Shu murmur, “Mommy…”