Zhao Xiyin smiled like a flower, hugged his neck and shook him wildly, "Meng Weixi, how can you be so cute!"
Meng Weixi was almost suffocated by her grip. "Wife, wife, do you want to become a widow early?"
"Pah, pah, pah." Zhao Xiyin raised her chin, full of imposing manner but unable to hide her blushing. "Who is your wife? Don't curse my future husband."
Her words proved prophetic; she really wasn't Meng Weixi's wife.
The two were still standing there, and before they could even finish exchanging greetings, the elevator doors next to them slid open again—
Alright, the "husband" has arrived.
Zhou Qishen was tall and immediately made his presence felt. He was smiling as he spoke to Professor Fu. He was impeccably dressed, showing no signs of the haggard appearance of a hospitalized patient. However, upon closer inspection, an IV catheter was still inserted in the back of his right hand.
Professor Fu called out to Meng Weixi, "Oh, what a coincidence, Meng. I was just about to call you."
Meng Weixi wasn't embarrassed at all, and smiled nonchalantly, "This isn't a matter of mutual understanding, you don't need to bother."
Professor Fu was very satisfied and began to introduce the patient with great enthusiasm, pointing to the person next to him, "Zhou Qishen, he is now my patient." He moved his arm and pointed forward, "Meng Weixi, the son of an alumnus."
After the introductions, there was a pause; logically, they should have shaken hands.
But neither of them had that intention at all. One gave a cold look, and the other was disdainful. When their eyes met, it was like crackling ice shards.
Professor Fu was extremely puzzled; what was going on?
To avoid an awkward silence, he glanced at his watch and said with a smile, "It's lunchtime. Come on, let's have some food at our college's cafeteria."
Whoever runs away is a coward.
It's estimated that they both want the other to be their grandson.
Meng Weixi smiled and said, "Okay."
Zhou Qishen's expression remained calm. "Alright."
Then they both turned their heads, their gazes fixed on Zhao Xiyin, and the two men's voices overlapped, one low and one high, "Xiao west, together."
Zhao Xiyin was carrying the insulated box and tried to hide it behind her back, but then a bolt of lightning struck her head, leaving her completely stunned.
The cafeteria was crowded with medical staff and patients coming and going. The smells of various dishes mingled together, not unpleasant, but also somewhat cloying. Four people shared a table, with the elders given priority. Professor Fu sat on the left and looked at the three of them.
Zhao Xiyin rushed ahead and sat down next to Professor Fu with a large movement. She gave Professor Fu an apologetic smile, as if she were going to war.
Meng Weixi and Zhou Qishen sat opposite each other.
Professor Fu, puzzled, looked at the thermos Zhao Xiyin was carrying and, unsurprised, asked naturally, "Are you here to visit someone in the hospital?"
As soon as he finished speaking, Zhou Qishen's fingers, which were resting on the table, trembled suddenly. At the same time, Meng Weixi's gaze sharpened and intensified.
Zhao Xiyin shook her head vigorously, "No, no." As she spoke, she hurriedly took out the thermos, opened the lid, and took out a spoon, "I just ate out with my friends and ordered too much food. I'm packing it up so as not to waste it."
She spoke in a serious tone, then picked up the thermos, tilted her head back, and gulped down the soup in one go.
On the stainless steel bottle cap lying to the side, there was a line of faded red paint faintly imprinted, almost invisible unless you looked closely—
"First place in the middle-aged group of the 12th Calligraphy Competition of Renhai University, 2017 Award, Zhao Wenchun."
What did she just say? Take away leftovers from eating out?
Zhou Qishen subtly shifted his gaze, raised his hand, clenched his fist, and lightly pressed it against his lips.
The smile lingered in my palm for a long time.
Chapter 15 My heart yearns for water, your heart yearns for mountains (1)
My heart yearns for water, your heart yearns for mountains (1)
Meng Weixi wasn't stupid; if he couldn't see it, he'd be incredibly clueless.
Even if his heart were to sink into an abyss, he had to maintain the dignity of an adult; restraint had become an essential lesson for him. Fortunately, Professor Fu was unaware of the situation and, with his lively words, managed to keep the atmosphere from freezing over.
The food in the hospital cafeteria was so-so. Apart from Professor Fu, the three of them didn't have much of an appetite. They were picky eaters and only ate a little bit of their food.
In that awkward moment, Zhao Xiyin received a phone call. After exchanging a few words, she said she had something to do and used that as an excuse to leave. Once outside the restaurant, she felt a huge weight lifted off her shoulders, as if a thousand pounds had been lifted from her burden. She walked quickly, as if afraid someone would catch up with her.
Only after getting into the taxi did she dare to look back.
Under the scorching sun, pedestrians coming and going at the hospital entrance displayed a range of expressions: some sick, some anxious, some bewildered—a microcosm of human nature.
Zhao Xiyin went to Li Ran's studio and told her about what happened at noon, but omitted the part about delivering soup to Zhou Qishen.
Li Ran asked, "When you turn around, who are you most afraid to see?"
Zhao Xiyin said, "I didn't."
Li Ran glared at her fiercely.
Zhao Xiyin paused for a moment, then honestly said, "I'm afraid of everything."
Whom are you more afraid of appearing?
This time, the silence lasted even longer before he finally answered, "Zhou Qishen."
Li Ran was initially surprised, but after thinking about it for a while, she felt it made sense. "Xiao west, you have feelings for him, don't you?"
Of course, there are feelings involved.
Their love was harmonious, they were united in marriage, sharing the same bed and pillow. The first person she saw when she opened her eyes was him, he was there in the morning light and at dusk. Zhou Qishen carried her in a grand sedan chair, a proper wedding, with a red marriage certificate and a steel stamp, vowing their commitment.