Chapter 53 Really Hard to Comfort

After eating the breakfast Song Jingmo made, Lu Er felt a lot more energized.

Checking the time, he figured his scenes for the day weren’t too heavy. After hesitating for a moment, he still decided to go to the set.

“Brother Lu, your complexion still doesn’t look great. Why don’t you ask the director for leave?” Bai Zhi walked over worriedly, reaching out to check his forehead.

Lu Er tilted his head slightly to avoid her hand. “It’s fine, just a low fever. I’ll go rest after I finish filming.”

During a break, Bai Zhi handed him some warm water and couldn’t help muttering, “You were still full of energy when we wrapped yesterday. How did you get this sick after just one night’s sleep at home?”

Feeling guilty, Lu Er took the cup and sipped, replying vaguely, “Maybe I kicked off the blanket at night and caught a chill.”

After filming several scenes, a thin layer of cold sweat appeared on Lu Er’s forehead, but he still pushed through and completed all his parts.

In the afternoon, he curled up on the sofa watching a movie, but his mind was filled with Song Jingmo.

He wanted to send him a message, but was afraid of disturbing him during surgery.

He held on until around 5:30 PM, estimating the surgery should be over, and finally sent a message eagerly:

[I’m hungry. When are you coming back?]

After sending it, he hugged his phone and waited expectantly for a reply.

Outside the operating room of H City First People’s Hospital.

Song Jingmo had just finished an eight-hour surgery. He rubbed his temples tiredly. Taking out his phone, he saw Lu Er’s message.

His heart softened unconsciously, and he immediately called back.

“The surgery just ended. I’ll be back right away.” His voice was weary, but still gentle.

Half an hour later, downstairs, Song Jingmo happened to run into Bai Zhi carrying a bag full of groceries.

“Doctor Song?” Bai Zhi looked surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m staying here for now,” Song Jingmo explained briefly, his gaze falling on the bag in her hands. “This is?”

“I was worried about Brother Lu. He suddenly got sick—it’s really concerning. So I thought I’d come make him something to eat,” Bai Zhi explained. “It’s strange though. He was perfectly fine yesterday after work. How did he suddenly get such a high fever overnight?”

Song Jingmo’s eyes flickered. He reached out and took the bag from her. “Thanks. Leave it to me. You should go back and rest—I’ll cook.”

Bai Zhi smiled as she handed the bag over. “Then I’ll leave it to you, Doctor Song.”

Lu Er was curled up on the sofa. Hearing the door open, he immediately sprang up like a large dog welcoming its owner.

Seeing the groceries in Song Jingmo’s hands, he froze. “You went shopping?”

“No.” Song Jingmo changed his shoes and walked straight to the kitchen with the groceries, his tone calm. “Ran into Bai Zhi downstairs. She bought them.”

He placed the bag on the counter and rolled up his sleeves, preparing to wash the vegetables.

As if casually chatting, he said, “Bai Zhi said you were fine yesterday after work. How did you suddenly get a high fever in just a few hours?”

The sound of running water filled the room, his tone unreadable. “What exactly did you do after going home last night?”

Lu Er’s heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to stay calm. “I just caught a chill while showering.”

Song Jingmo turned off the tap and looked at him sharply. “From no symptoms to a 39-degree fever in just a few hours? Does a normal chill progress that fast?”

“Last night you said you didn’t cover yourself properly. Now it’s from showering? The room is kept at a constant 27°C—how exactly did you catch a chill?”

Thinking of the last time Lu Er ran to the hospital in the middle of the night, Song Jingmo couldn’t help but imagine the worst—whether something hadn’t been cleaned properly, leading to acute inflammation and fever.

The entertainment industry was chaotic. Song Jingmo closed his eyes, shaking off those unpleasant thoughts.

Under that scrutinizing, suspicious gaze, Lu Er felt uneasy—both wronged and afraid.

“I didn’t do anything,” he muttered.

“If you didn’t, why lie again and again?” Song Jingmo dried his hands, looking down at him. “Stop lying to me.”

Lu Er had never lied to him before. What could be worth hiding like this?

Song Jingmo’s expression was harsher than ever, his tone cold with interrogation.

Already weakened by illness, Lu Er was frightened. His nose stung, and tears fell without warning.

“Fine, I did it on purpose.”

Under the overwhelming pressure, his defenses completely collapsed. Lu Er snapped, “I took a cold bath and stood on the 38th-floor balcony to catch the wind. I wanted to get sick on purpose, okay?!”

Song Jingmo stared at him in shock, his chest rising with anger and confusion. “Why would you treat your body like this?”

Lu Er opened his mouth—the words because I like you, I wanted you to come be with me almost slipped out.

But his sister-in-law’s warning to keep it hidden still echoed in his ears.

If he said it now, would he be asking Song Jingmo to secretly become his hidden lover?

Someone as proud as Song Jingmo—back then, just giving him a card in a moment of impulse had driven him to leave the country for six years.

If he asked him to be a secret lover, he might never see him again in this lifetime.

The storm of emotions inside him found no outlet.

In the end, all his grievance and fear turned into an accusation: “I don’t want to see you sharing a room with Liao Xubai. Who knows if you two might end up sleeping together at night?”

Song Jingmo’s face turned pale with anger at the absurdity.

After the exhaustion of an intense surgery, a surge of anger flared up—mixed with lingering fear and heartache.

Taking a deep breath, he suppressed his anger. “You hurt yourself over something that would never happen?”

“If you wanted me to come, just call me. I would come. No matter who I’m with, you will always come first in my heart. No one can surpass you. Do you understand?”

After a full day of work, Song Jingmo was utterly drained. “Can you be more mature? Think about the consequences before acting. A fever is dangerous—you’re a medical student. Don’t you even know basic common sense?”

Lu Er, half-delirious from the fever, could only hear the words immature and no common sense repeating in his mind.

Song Jingmo had changed. He wasn’t comforting him anymore—he was blaming him, finding him troublesome, thinking him childish and ignorant.

Lu Er forcefully shook off his grip like an enraged little beast.

Without thinking, he shouted, “Yeah, I’m immature! I’m impulsive! If I’m such a bother, then don’t bother with me! I’m someone who can be abandoned at any time anyway!”

Back then, when his parents divorced, Madam Leng had chosen the obedient and sensible Lu Chen without hesitation, leaving him to his father, Lu Zeming.

Ironically, Lu Zeming didn’t want him either. He abandoned four-year-old Lu Er in a villa and ran off with his lover.

By the time Leng Qinghua found him, he had already fainted from hunger.

Even Song Jingmo, who treated him best, had once left him after he made a mistake.

No one liked him. Everyone thought he was a burden. Everyone would abandon him without hesitation.

If he had known he would only be disliked like this, he might as well have starved to death back then.

With a loud bang, the door slammed shut.

The kitchen faucet continued dripping. Song Jingmo raised a hand to rub his aching temples, a deep sense of helplessness washing over him.

There he goes again—throwing a tantrum.

And this time, he looked really hard to comfort.