Chapter : 21
He was completely different from just moments ago.
The two of them stood in silence. Only a few seconds passed, yet it felt like an entire century.
Zhou Qingluo paused. He still didn’t understand what he was doing here waiting like an idiot. Was he really going to take him out for luosifen?
So that five thousand yuan didn’t just include the “provoking his father” labor fee—it also included this awkward situation.
Somehow…
It didn’t seem like a loss.
Zhou Qingluo turned around, put on his helmet, got on his electric bike, started it, and rode off.
He hadn’t gone far when a car roared past him. It was so fast it only looked like a red streak flashing by, disappearing down the road in an instant.
Since Zhou Shoulin had been staying home, he had more time to study recipes. Every day he cooked different dishes for the siblings, and his cooking kept getting better.
Zhou Qingluo, rarely having time to rest, watched Zhou Shoulin busy in the kitchen and said seriously, “Dad, you should start a livestream teaching cooking. You’d go viral.”
Zhou Shoulin waved him off. “Go wait in your room. I’ll call you when it’s ready. The smoke is heavy here.”
“I’m serious, Dad. There are so many food bloggers online, and most of them don’t cook as well as you.”
“You think too highly of your dad. I’m too old for that kind of embarrassment.”
Zhou Qingluo didn’t insist further. With Zhou Shoulin’s reserved personality, if he really became famous and got attacked online, he definitely wouldn’t be able to handle it.
For lunch, Zhou Shoulin made braised pork ribs, scrambled eggs with loofah, and vegetable soup. After eating, Zhou Qingluo brought food to Zhou Qingmu.
Zhou Qingmu was preparing to study abroad, and the hospital had been extremely busy. She spent all her time there and rarely came home for meals. Zhou Qingluo packed a bottle of milk and a banana along with the lunchbox and brought them to her.
Zhou Qingmu was interning in surgery. Even during lunch break, the hospital was still crowded, except for the hematology senior consultation area, which was relatively quiet.
What Zhou Qingluo didn’t expect was that he would run into Song Ling here.
He was wearing a loose black round-neck T-shirt and beige sports pants, with a black mask, black sunglasses, and a black cap. He sat quietly outside the department on a blue plastic chair.
Dressed entirely in black, wrapped up tightly—if not for the tattoo on his neck, Zhou Qingluo wouldn’t have recognized him at all.
He leaned back against the chair, head tilted with the back of his head resting against the wall. His right hand vein had just been punctured with a needle; blood beads were still seeping out of the puncture, and the surrounding skin was slightly swollen. The faint purple-blue veins stood out sharply against his pale skin.
Patients in hematology usually had family with them, but he sat there alone, isolated. Beside him was a black laptop bag he always carried, containing his computer.
Zhou Qingluo glanced at him and instinctively slowed his steps.
Song Ling moved slightly. Zhou Qingluo immediately withdrew his gaze and walked forward as if nothing had happened.
He had only taken a few steps when a cold voice came from behind him.
“Zhou Qingluo.”
He pretended not to hear and kept walking.
Footsteps followed. Before he could get far, Song Ling blocked his path.
Before Zhou Qingluo could speak, Song Ling glanced at the top of his head and said with a faint smile, “You’re so much shorter than me.”
Zhou Qingluo was exactly 180 cm tall. This was the first time someone had called him “short.” He laughed lightly, ignored him, and tried to walk past.
Song Ling stepped again, blocking him. “Don’t you recognize me anymore?”
Zhou Qingluo gritted his teeth. First attacking his height, now mocking his complexion—what a keyboard warrior.
He raised the bag in his hand and smiled. “I’m busy delivering food.”
“No delivery order. It’s for a friend.”
He was clearly trying to start a conversation, but Zhou Qingluo didn’t want to engage. He frowned impatiently. He almost said “what does it have to do with you,” but swallowed it back. “Yes.”
Song Ling seemed to lose patience too. Giving up on pretenses, he said coldly, “Zhou Qingluo, don’t you realize I’m trying hard to find a topic to talk about?”
Zhou Qingluo let out a short laugh. “That must be exhausting for you.”
“……”
Silence fell again. The atmosphere reminded Song Ling of that day when he had waited under the tree.
Zhou Qingluo stepped forward to leave, but Song Ling suddenly didn’t want him to just ride away on his bike like last time without a word.
He grabbed Zhou Qingluo’s arm, closed his eyes briefly, and took a light breath.
“That day… I did use you on purpose to provoke him.”
Zhou Qingluo stopped mid-step and blinked slightly.
“Sorry.”
Zhou Qingluo didn’t expect that this so-called future world-destroying villain would actually apologize to him.
Before he could respond politely, Song Ling added, “I haven’t eaten. Do you have anything?”
The tone was clearly a clumsy attempt to change the subject.
Zhou Qingluo sighed and took out the extra milk and banana he had prepared for Zhou Qingmu, handing them over.
Song Ling accepted them without hesitation, the corner of his lips lifting slightly.
Thinking of how Zhou Qingluo had dragged him to eat luosifen earlier, he said softly, “Are you this soft-hearted?”
Zhou Qingluo looked at him speechlessly, then pulled up a payment QR code. “Milk five yuan, banana one yuan, delivery fee four yuan. Total ten yuan.”
Chapter 10
Song Ling sat outside the consultation room holding the milk and banana, watching the direction Zhou Qingluo had left in, the corner of his mouth faintly raised.
Song Zhaoguang helped Song Jinyi out, asking after him with concern. But when he saw Song Ling sitting lazily outside, the kindness on his face immediately vanished.
What puzzled him was that Song Ling actually seemed to be smiling—not the usual cold, mocking smile, but something different.
This month, Song Ling had been smoking and drinking heavily. His blood test results had barely passed. Song Zhaoguang said coldly, “Next time you smoke or drink and mess up your blood quality, try it and see.”
Song Ling held the milk bottle as if he hadn’t heard anything.
Song Zhaoguang continued, “You’d better behave yourself recently. Don’t cause any trouble.”
Song Ling looked up, flattened his lips, and stared at him coldly, mocking, “And you think you can stop me if I do?”
