Chapter 225 You’re Quite Good at Taking Care of People—Where Did You Learn That?

The doctor finished stitching the wound at the back of Leng Qinghua’s head and, with full concentration, began cleaning the small cuts on her neck and wrists, carefully picking out tiny glass fragments.

“When the patient fell, the back of her head hit the corner of a solid wood table. Although the emergency CT scan didn’t show any acute bleeding or fractures…”

“Considering the force and angle of the impact, I still recommend a cranial MRI to rule out any minor subdural hematoma or cerebral contusion.”

Doctor Zhang paused for half a second with the tweezers in his hand, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “It’s one thing for the hospital director to personally supervise, but this level of concern—honestly, it’s more attentive than treating your own son.”

Lu Er, who had been silent the whole time: “……”

Song Jingmo replied dryly, “Is your department workload a bit too light?”

Seriously—of all things to say.

“My mistake. It’s our department’s honor to have the director personally guiding the work.”

Doctor Zhang said no more and continued.

Using a fresh sterile cotton ball dipped in saline, he cleaned the dried medication residue around the wound. “Once the debridement is done, I’ll write up the test order. You can rest easy.”

Half an hour later, he applied a thin layer of healing gel dressing over the wound and secured it with a mesh bandage.

“All done.”

He packed up his instruments and stood. “Keep the wound dry and change the dressing daily. The cast on the leg needs to stay on for at least six weeks. I’ll issue the MRI order right away—nurse will come assist shortly.”

“Thank you, Doctor Zhang,” Lu Er said.

Doctor Zhang smiled at her. “We’re family—no need to be so polite.”

Song Jingmo: “……”

These people are really getting out of hand.

The ward door gently closed.

Lu Er’s phone rang. After answering, she said, “Mom, I have to go to S City for filming the day after tomorrow. I probably won’t be able to come every day…”

“I’m not dying,” Leng Qinghua snapped. “Go do what you need to do. Saves me the annoyance of seeing you—it might even help my recovery.”

Lu Er sighed and looked pitifully at Song Jingmo.

He was helpless too. With Leng Qinghua there, he didn’t even dare to hug her for comfort.

Half an hour later, the ward door opened again.

Lu Chen and Luo Bingbing walked in one after the other.

Lu Chen carried a dark brown thermos, while Luo Bingbing held a large bouquet of blooming lilies, their white petals dotted with sparkling droplets.

“Mom,” Lu Chen said softly as he approached the bed, tension barely concealed in his voice. “How are you feeling?”

Leng Qinghua turned her face away. “Not dead yet.”

Lu Chen gave a helpless smile and placed the thermos on the bedside table. “Aunt made ginseng chicken soup. Have some while it’s hot.”

Luo Bingbing arranged the lilies in a crystal vase by the window and walked to the foot of the bed.

Looking at the leg wrapped in thick plaster, her eyes reddened. “It was supposed to be such a nice banquet… we even planned to celebrate at home afterward…”

Leng Qinghua glanced at her, her tone softening slightly. “What’s there to cry about? It’s not life-threatening.”

“I’m just angry,” Luo Bingbing wiped her tears. “Those ladies have nothing better to do than gossip. Next time we see them, no need to be polite.”

Lu Chen nodded, his gaze turning cold. “Any partnerships that can be terminated have been terminated. Compensation is already being negotiated by the lawyers.”

Lu Er looked apologetic. “Mom, brother, sister-in-law… I’m sorry…”

Leng Qinghua snorted. “As long as your good-for-nothing father exists, there will always be gossip. You just gave them something new to laugh about.”

Lu Er: “……”

Lu Chen changed the subject. “Jingmo, how is Mom’s condition? Is it serious?”

Song Jingmo replied, “The cranial CT shows no obvious structural damage. An MRI has been done to further rule out minor bleeding or contusion.”

“There’s a spiral fracture in the mid-shaft of the tibia. The cast needs to stay on for six to eight weeks. Multiple superficial cuts need infection prevention. The stitched wound at the back of the head will have the sutures removed in a week.”

“Vital signs are stable. No fever, nausea, or vomiting. Medical staff will monitor her closely 24 hours a day.”

Outside the window, dusk slowly spread, bathing the room in a warm golden glow.

“Bingbing,” Leng Qinghua called.

“Yes, Mom?”

Luo Bingbing, who was peeling fruit, looked up immediately.

Leng Qinghua looked at her, her gaze complicated, carrying a rare trace of guilt and gentleness. “You’ve suffered a lot marrying into the Lu family all these years.”

Luo Bingbing froze.

Lu Chen was stunned as well, looking at his mother in surprise.

Even Song Jingmo and Lu Er by the window turned to look at her.

“When I get better, go back to the company. Leave the child to Aunt Wu and the nanny—I’ll help take care as well.”

Tears streamed down Luo Bingbing’s face. “Mom, I’ve never felt wronged.”

“Silly child.” Leng Qinghua smiled faintly. “Living well with Xiao Chen is more important than anything.”

Night had fully fallen.

Song Jingmo checked the time and politely excused himself. “Auntie, please rest well. I’ll come visit again tomorrow.”

Three days later, Lu Er returned to the film set, and Lu Chen and Luo Bingbing went back to the company to handle accumulated work.

Leng Qinghua’s hospital room was soon filled with a constant stream of flowers and fruit baskets.

That afternoon, there was a knock on the door, followed by an energetic voice: “Grandma, I’m coming in!”

Leng Qinghua opened her eyes, a barely noticeable softness passing through them. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Leng Keyan poked his head in.

He wore a creamy white hoodie and light blue jeans. His hair was soft and fluffy, and his face carried a bright smile.

In his hand was a nearly half-human-height bamboo fruit basket, stuffed to the brim.

“Grandma!”

He walked in cheerfully and set the heavy basket on the table. “Pretty, right? I made it myself. The fruits were just picked from our orchard.”

“Apples, oranges, winter jujubes—they’re all super sweet. My mom said fruit is good for your health, so you should eat more.”

As he spoke, he sat down by the bed and naturally picked up an apple. “I’ll peel one for you.”

“Alright.”

His nimble fingers held the apple as the blade glided smoothly along the peel, creating a thin, continuous strip like cicada wings.

Then he used a fruit fork to skewer each piece, making it easy for Leng Qinghua to eat.

“You’re quite good at taking care of people. Where did you learn that?”

“Huh?”

Leng Keyan looked up, grinning and showing a row of white teeth. “Uh… I just like peeling fruit before eating it. Cleaner that way.”

Leng Qinghua didn’t press further and accepted the neatly cut apple pieces.

“Your mother has been thoughtful.”

“Not at all—what matters is that you like it, Grandma.”

Leng Keyan popped a piece into his own mouth. “When your leg heals, my mom wants you to come stay at our place for a while. The mountain air is great for recovery, and she can cook for you every day.”

Leng Qinghua chewed slowly. “Mm. I haven’t been back in many years… it’s time I paid a visit.”