Chapter 13 Letting Go of Past Grudges

A faint trace of displeasure flickered in those always calm and composed eyes.

“The VIP ward has a professional nursing team,” Song Jingmo’s voice was cold and sharp. “The patient needs rest; it’s not suitable to be disturbed.”

Cong Jinyue gripped the handle of his suitcase tightly, stubbornly insisting, “But Brother Lu got hurt because of me. At least wait until he wakes up…”

“I am his attending physician.”

Cong Jinyue was intimidated by Song Jingmo’s presence; a flash of helplessness crossed his handsome face.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but under Song Jingmo’s indifferent gaze, he faltered.

“Then I’ll come back tomorrow.” Reluctantly, Cong Jinyue left.

“You sure know how to take care of your juniors,” Song Jingmo’s voice was soft, devoid of discernible emotion.

When Lu Er was unconscious, the internet had already erupted.

The hashtag #LuErSeriouslyInjuredOnSet# shot to the top of trending searches.

Photos from various angles and blurry videos circulated wildly across platforms.

Fans’ concern and worry quickly flooded the comment sections, along with all sorts of conspiracy theories.

“Too coincidental, right? How did the steel cable just break?”

“Could someone be jealous of our Lu Bao and sabotage him on purpose?”

“What’s up with Cong Jinyue? Why isn’t he hurt?”

Public opinion continued to ferment, with endless speculation and criticism.

Manager Jiang Qingyan stared anxiously at the trending searches and messages from the PR department, ruffling his hair in frustration.

“I’ll head back to the company. You keep an eye on things here—don’t let anything go wrong.”

After Jiang Qingyan left in a hurry, Bai Zhi returned from paying the hospital fees and ran into Cong Jinyue in the hallway, who hadn’t left yet.

The handsome young man leaned against the wall, head down, looking dejected.

“Why haven’t you gone back yet?”

Cong Jinyue lifted his head, eyes slightly red. “Sister Bai Zhi, I’m worried about Brother Lu… all those comments online…”

Bai Zhi sighed and softened her tone. “The situation is delicate right now. If you stay here, it might draw more unnecessary attention.”

“Brother Qingyan is already handling things. What you need to do is go back and cooperate with the investigation; don’t overthink the rest.”

Just as one person was persuaded to leave, another figure rushed into the ward in a flurry.

“Uncle!”

Leng Keyan looked exhausted, clearly just coming off the operating table.

Seeing Lu Er in such a state, his voice trembled with tears. “How did you get hurt like this?!”

He dashed to the bedside, grabbing Lu Er’s hand that wasn’t hooked up to an IV, tears streaming down.

Song Jingmo frowned. “Leng Keyan, take Bai Zhi to eat, then go back to work.”

Leng Keyan shivered under Song Jingmo’s gaze, his crying abruptly stopping.

Sniffling, he wiped his face and looked at Bai Zhi. “Sister Bai Zhi, shall we go eat?”

Bai Zhi understood immediately and quickly guided the still-sniffling Leng Keyan away.

In the afternoon, Song Jingmo still had a clinic to attend. He briefed Bai Zhi on precautions and left his phone number: “Call me if there’s anything.”

A few hours later, Lu Er slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze swept across the empty ward. Not seeing the familiar figure made him inexplicably sad.

Bai Zhi noticed his mood instantly. “Dr. Song went to work.”

Caught, Lu Er pouted. “I didn’t even ask him.”

“Dr. Song was just cautious. After your accident, he called in the hospital’s top specialists, personally oversaw the entire surgery, and only left close to two o’clock.”

Lu Er blinked, seemingly hoping Bai Zhi would continue.

But she ignored him, turning to answer a phone call.

Lu Er said nothing more, but the slight upturn of his lips betrayed his feelings.

At six in the evening, after much hesitation, Lu Er picked up his phone and opened the chat.

After agonizing over it, he cautiously sent a message:

[Dinner together tonight? I ordered takeout.]

The moment it was sent, Lu Er regretted it.

Song Jingmo would surely go home after work—why would he stay at the hospital to eat with him?

Panicked, he tried to retract it, but a simple reply popped up in the chat:

[Okay]

Ten minutes later, the ward door was gently pushed open.

Song Jingmo, dressed in the same clothes from that morning, stood tall at the doorway.

“Dr. Song, I’m going back to the villa to get some toiletries. Thank you for taking care of things here,” Bai Zhi said, grabbing her bag and leaving.

The ward fell silent, leaving only the soft sound of their breathing.

Lu Er looked at Song Jingmo by the bedside and licked his slightly dry lips. “Thank you.”

Song Jingmo said nothing, squeezing some hand sanitizer and meticulously disinfecting his hands.

His hands, with well-defined joints, interlaced as he rubbed them together. Clean, rounded nails and subtle tendons revealed themselves as he applied just the right pressure.

Then, those aesthetically pleasing hands reached up to Lu Er’s forehead, moving gently.

Lu Er swallowed hard, stunned for a long moment.

Song Jingmo was good-looking, and his hands were even more beautiful—truly worthy of a surgeon.

“Any discomfort?”

“No,” Lu Er mustered courage, his voice trembling slightly with hope. “Have you forgiven me? Can we still be good friends?”

Song Jingmo remained silent. The air in the ward seemed to freeze.

Lu Er’s heart sank bit by bit.

Just as he was about to give up, Song Jingmo’s deep voice finally spoke:

“Mm, yes.”

Two words, yet they acted like a key, instantly unlocking the rusty six-year-old lock in Lu Er’s heart.

His eyes burned, and he hurriedly lowered his head, afraid of breaking down in tears.

“Sir, your takeout.”

The delivery man’s voice broke the awkwardness. Song Jingmo turned to get the meal.

As Lu Er tried to sit up, Song Jingmo pressed his shoulder. “Don’t move.”

Then, expertly, he adjusted the hospital bed to a comfortable angle, pushed over the mobile table, and neatly arranged the food.

Watching Song Jingmo pick up the bowl and spoon, Lu Er felt awkward. “I can do it myself.”

“Just had surgery. Don’t exert yourself,” Song Jingmo said, in a tone that brooked no refusal.

His well-defined hands picked up an alcohol wipe, took Lu Er’s hand, and carefully cleaned it.

Lu Er watched his lowered eyelashes and felt the faint coolness of Song Jingmo’s fingertips and the alcohol evaporating, making his heart race.

After cleaning the hand, Song Jingmo scooped a small spoonful of warm, soft porridge, blew on it gently, and brought it to Lu Er’s mouth. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Lu Er opened his mouth, letting the warm porridge slide down his throat.

It had been a long time since he’d had such delicious porridge.

Under the light, Song Jingmo’s side profile looked soft, his gaze focused, making Lu Er feel as though he’d gone back many years.

One meal. One feeding patiently, the other eating obediently.

No words were exchanged, yet a silent understanding flowed between them.

After finishing, Song Jingmo cleaned up the meal boxes and wiped Lu Er’s mouth.

Every motion was natural, just like six years ago.

But Lu Er could no longer accept Song Jingmo’s meticulous care as easily as before.

Had one night together changed something between them?

Watching Song Jingmo busy in the ward, Lu Er asked, “Are you going back tonight?”

Six years ago, Song Jingmo would have stayed to take care of him.

But now, he wasn’t sure, even though Song Jingmo had just agreed to be his good friend again.