Wen Song instantly understood the meaning behind the period Guan Sui sent.
He guessed that seeing Zhao Mingzhuo’s Moments post had made the man unhappy, which was why he had sought him out.
Song: What is it?
Guan Sui must have been hovering over the chat interface, replying in a flash: [Unhappy.]
Sure enough, Wen Song had guessed correctly.
[S]: Is the noodles delicious?
Those five short characters made Wen Song instantly grasp the true meaning Guan Sui wanted to convey.
[S]: Doesn’t Zhao Mingzhuo have a nanny at home? Does he need you to take care of him with such meticulous devotion?
Song: He is my boyfriend.
[S]: When are you breaking up? I want to be your boyfriend too.
Wen Song questioned, “?”
He was left entirely speechless by Guan Sui’s sudden remark.
What was he supposed to say?
He had no idea how to reply at all.
Every action of the other man exuded a sense of inevitable victory, refusing to be discouraged even while knowing full well that he had a boyfriend.
In the end, Wen Song tapped open the input method panel and slowly typed out a few characters: [You call this openly poaching someone else’s wall.]
With a whoosh, Guan Sui sent over a voice message lasting a few seconds.
Wen Song originally intended to tap the speech-to-text button, but his hand slipped and he accidentally played the voice clip instead.
He wanted to hurriedly press the phone screen dark to put a stop to everything, but unfortunately, a cool, husky voice mixed with a hint of magnetic sexiness through the electronic processing had already reached him from the phone a step ahead.
“Mm, are you letting me poach?”
The volume was neither loud nor soft, crystal clear.
Including Guan Sui’s nonchalant tone, if you listened closely, you could catch a trace of a smiling lilt.
Wen Song’s heart leaped into his throat as if he had done something wrong. It truly felt no different from having an affair as he maintained his composure and glanced at Zhao Mingzhuo, who had fallen into a deep sleep on the sofa.
One second, two seconds, five seconds.
There was no sign of the other man waking up.
Seeing this, Wen Song finally let out a sigh of relief.
He took his phone, turned around to leave the living room, pushed open the glass sliding door, and stepped out onto the front yard filled with various kinds of beautiful flowers.
For some inexplicable reason, driven by an impulse, he tapped on Guan Sui’s voice message once more.
After listening to it, even though his emotions remained completely unperturbed, his face inexplicably felt hot.
The other man’s Mandarin was very standard, yet his mind kept associating the pronunciation of the word poach with another much filthier, dirtier, and more vulgar word.
Perhaps Guan Sui’s image was already firmly typecast in his mind.
The Alpha had said something similar that night; although it hadn’t been understood quite as straightforwardly or crudely, the meaning conveyed was identical.
[S]: Then I will continue being the mistress.
Wen Song questioned, “?”
It was his first time discovering that Guan Sui could be so brazen.
This time, Wen Song didn’t reply to the other man’s message.
Just as he was about to put his phone away, he received a call from the hospital.
“Hello, Mr. Wen. We are from the First People’s Hospital of the City. Ms. Song Lanxue’s condition is currently…”
The color on Wen Song’s face drained in an instant, his fingers gripping the phone turning white with force.
The First People’s Hospital of the City.
After getting out of the car, Wen Song briskly walked up the steps and familiarly headed to the inpatient department.
Outside the ward, a nurse stood at the door. Catching sight of his arrival, she habitually reached out to block the patient’s family member, preventing any emotional fluctuations due to worry from disrupting the doctor’s diagnosis.
Yet the Beta before her merely walked a bit too fast with his chest rising and falling in rapid, frequent breaths, showing not the slightest hint of agitation that would drive him to force his way past the obstruction into the ward.
“How is Ms. Song Lanxue’s condition?” Wen Song smoothed out his breathing and asked with a steady composure.
Holding her clipboard, the nurse answered earnestly, “Half an hour ago, after taking her medicine, she suddenly experienced vomiting. The doctors are currently examining her. The situation isn’t terribly serious, but family members should still mentally prepare themselves.”
A trace of pain rippled through Wen Song’s chest.
Do not be fooled by his current calm appearance; in reality, his nervous state was bouncing up and down, completely incapable of stabilizing.
The doctors had told him a few days ago that his grandmother’s condition wasn’t very optimistic, but without mutation or worsening conditions, she could maintain her treatment and medication to rest her body. Once certain high indicators dropped, the risks of surgery could be minimized.
He hadn’t expected that after just a few days, she would experience symptoms of vomiting after taking her medication.
“Is there truly no other way for this situation?” Wen Song asked.
The nurse thought for a moment and gave a slight, small shake of her head. “I’m sorry, sir, but the specific situation still requires the doctor’s diagnosis results.”
Wen Song knew that being nervous and anxious was useless; he had to wait for the doctor to come out of the ward to know why the vomiting had occurred.
Ten minutes passed.
The door of the ward finally opened.
As soon as the doctor stepped out, he took off his surgical mask.
“Doctor, how is my grandmother’s condition right now? Is there any problem?” Wen Song asked at the first possible moment.
The doctor paused and said, “Her condition is nothing major. She’s experiencing a drug rejection reaction, and we need to run further examinations.”
“However,”
Wen Song pressed on, “However what?”
The doctor said, “Yesterday, the attending specialist you found who specializes in pheromone cancer cells examined Ms. Song’s physical condition. We aren’t entirely sure what the results were, but you can go ask them. Since they specialize in researching related conditions, they’ll understand it much better than we do.”
Every year, the country held medical exchange symposiums, where experts established teams targeting difficult and complicated ailments with extremely low national cure rates.
The expert team for pheromone cancer cells had been abroad for the past few years. Even if local doctors had some understanding of related conditions, they fell somewhat short in knowledge compared to authoritative professionals.
Not to mention that the team’s expert had once been a lead surgeon, pushing the success rate of pheromone cancer cell treatments up to eighty percent.
Wen Song stood stunned for a moment, quickly realizing that Guan Sui must have been the one who had people check on his grandmother’s condition.
Clearly, he was still in the consideration phase.
Yet the other man had offered help letting bygones be bygones.
For a moment, Wen Song didn’t know what words to use to describe his current feelings.
“Alright,” he nodded at the doctor. “Thank you for your trouble.”
The doctor replied, “It’s nothing. We’ll be running re-examinations over the next few days, so Mr. Wen doesn’t need to worry too much. Ms. Song’s condition is still within a reversible range; it’s just that everyone’s constitution is different, and it’s quite normal to occasionally experience drug rejection reactions.”
Hearing these words from the doctor, Wen Song finally set his mind at ease.
“Alright, thank you,” he said earnestly.
The doctor nodded at him, gave a couple of instructions to the nurse standing nearby, and then left.
The nurse said, “Mr. Wen, Ms. Song just fell asleep after taking her medicine. To avoid affecting her sleep, please don’t go in to disturb her for now.”
“You can take a look through the doorway.”
The ward door featured a glass window that allowed people to see inside, positioned directly facing the location of the hospital bed.
Before the doctor came out, he had unlocked the glass from the inside for the convenience of visiting family members.
Wen Song uttered a single okay.
Standing at the doorway, he looked through the glass at elderly Ms. Song Lanxue lying in the hospital bed with her hair all white.
With several tubes plugged into her body, Wen Song felt a sudden sourness prickle at his nose. Moisture instantly welled up in his eyes, but he lowered his eyelids, blinking those tears back.
Falling ill was simply too agonizing.
Young people could hardly bear it, let alone an elderly woman stepping into her seventies.
Fortunately, the condition hadn’t worsened.
Wen Song stood at the doorway of the ward for about half an hour before withdrawing his gaze and turning to leave.