Chapter 234 Your Son Is Truly Filial

In the afternoon, the sunlight generously spread across the hospital garden lawn.

Leng Qinghua sat in her wheelchair, a dark gray cashmere blanket draped over her legs, surrounded by several other patients who were also enjoying the sun.

Although it was winter, the lawn was still lush and green, full of vitality.

The warm sunlight drove away the chill of the ward and the lingering smell of disinfectant.

“Miss, your leg is recovering really fast,” said a woman in her sixties beside her with a smile. “I also had a fracture, but I’ve been lying down for three months and still don’t dare walk.”

Leng Qinghua smiled faintly. “I’m younger than you, so I recover faster.”

“You’re also blessed,” another gray-haired woman chimed in, “You’ve got doctors and nurses taking care of you every day, and such a filial son visiting you daily.”

That made Leng Qinghua pause. “Son?”

Lu Chen and Luo Bingbing came at most two or three times a week, and as for Lu Er—well, even less.

“Yes,” the woman pointed toward the garden entrance. “Isn’t that your son? The one in the white coat.”

“I heard he’s even the hospital director—handsome and talented. Truly a promising young man.”

Everyone turned to look at Song Jingmo at the entrance.

He had just come out of the inpatient building, his crisp white coat almost dazzling in the sunlight.

The afternoon light outlined his tall, straight figure, making him seem radiant.

The hem of his coat swayed lightly with his steps, revealing neatly pressed dark trousers and polished leather shoes.

His focused and composed demeanor stood out sharply in the leisurely garden.

“Oh, he’s here, he’s here!” the woman in her sixties brightened. “Your son is really filial. You must have raised him well.”

“Unlike my son—I’ve been in the hospital for a month, and he’s still in Country M. Says he can’t leave his project, doesn’t care whether I live or die…”

Her words were sincere, full of envy.

Leng Qinghua parted her lips, wanting to explain.

But everyone was talking over each other, giving her no chance to clarify.

Besides, their genuine envy also fed her vanity.

By then, Song Jingmo had already walked over.

When he saw Leng Qinghua, he paused slightly.

Then he approached naturally, bent down a little, and spoke gently, “Auntie, how are you feeling today? Any discomfort?”

His tone was respectful, neither servile nor overbearing.

Before Leng Qinghua could answer, the older women chimed in eagerly: “Doctor Song, here to see your mother again?”

“What a good child, coming every day. Why didn’t I give birth to such a well-behaved son!”

“Miss Leng, you’re truly blessed.”

Song Jingmo’s expression stiffened noticeably.

He glanced at Leng Qinghua, a hint of awkwardness flashing in his eyes.

Leng Qinghua spoke, her voice a little stiff. “He… is not my son.”

The moment she said that, the surroundings fell silent.

The women exchanged looks, then the gray-haired one laughed. “Oh, even if he’s not your biological son, he’s better than one!”

“Exactly, he’s so filial—what’s the difference from a real son?”

Then they turned to Song Jingmo with eager expressions. “Doctor Song, do you have a girlfriend? My granddaughter is twenty-five, works at a bank, and is very pretty. Maybe—”

“My daughter is twenty-six, works at a research institute. You’d definitely have more in common…”

They all started introducing their relatives at once.

Song Jingmo stood there, clearly uncomfortable.

After glancing at Leng Qinghua and the curious crowd, he was just about to find an excuse to leave when a syrupy voice cut in:

“Director Song!”

Everyone turned again.

Zhao Lishan came jogging over in five-centimeter heels.

She wasn’t wearing a white coat today, but a light pink wool dress with a short white puffer jacket.

Her hair was carefully styled into large waves falling over her shoulders.

Her makeup was delicate, with glossy rosy lips.

She ran up to Song Jingmo, cheeks flushed, breathing slightly, her chest rising and falling.

The neckline of her dress was a bit low, and with her breathing, her curves were faintly visible.

Her bright eyes sparkled as she spoke in a soft, coquettish tone, “Director Song, I finally found you! The neurosurgery department needs a document signed urgently.”

She handed him the file.

Like someone granted a pardon, Song Jingmo took it, skimmed it quickly, and signed his name.

Then he said to Leng Qinghua, “Auntie, I have something to take care of, I’ll be going first.”

With that, he almost fled the garden with Zhao Lishan.

The two walked side by side along the path. Zhao Lishan chatted animatedly, laughing brightly, occasionally leaning toward him.

Song Jingmo subtly shifted his body, keeping a polite distance.

From afar, the handsome man and beautiful woman looked exceptionally well-matched.

One tall and cool, the other delicate and charming.

One in a white coat, professional and restrained; the other in a dress, sweet and alluring.

On the lawn, the older women watched their retreating figures until they disappeared around the corner.

“That girl just now… is she Doctor Song’s girlfriend?”

“Looks like it—talented man and beautiful woman, quite a match.”

“Oh Sister Wang, you were just trying to introduce your granddaughter to him. Turns out he already has someone!”

“So what if he does? My granddaughter isn’t any worse…” Sister Wang retorted, though her tone had clearly weakened.

Another woman who hadn’t spoken before suddenly said, “I don’t think she’s his girlfriend. Didn’t you notice? Doctor Song is wearing a ring.”

That stunned everyone.

“A ring?”

“Yes, on his left ring finger. I was close—I saw it clearly.”

“Then… could he be married?”

“Maybe he even has a child!”

“No wonder he’s so filial to Ms. Leng—it turns out he’s her son-in-law!”

Leng Qinghua almost had a heart attack.

“But that girl just now…”

“Oh, young people these days have complicated relationships. Maybe she’s the mistress, or… Doctor Song is divorced and remarried?”

“I don’t think so,” Sister Wang shook her head. “The way that girl looked at him—you could practically see the affection dripping. They must be a couple.”

“And did you notice,” another woman lowered her voice, “that girl—big chest, wide hips—looks like she’d be good at bearing children. No wonder Doctor Song likes her…”

Listening to the increasingly outrageous gossip, Leng Qinghua’s face darkened.

Her fingers tightened around the wheelchair armrests, the knuckles turning white.

“That’s enough.”

She could no longer hold back. Her voice wasn’t loud, but the coldness in it instantly silenced everyone.

The women looked at her.

Leng Qinghua raised her head, her gaze sweeping across them. “How exactly are those two well-matched?”

Every single one of them—what kind of taste do they have?