Chapter 83: Blessings Are Nice, But Please Don’t Offer Them Anymore

Shen Mushi and Meng Qiaoyuan each attended to a child, swiftly administering first aid.

Before long, the ambulance arrived in time, and together, everyone lifted the children onto it.

“Carry them horizontally! Don’t hold them upright!” Shen Mushi, his hands stained with blood, fixed his gaze on the frantic parents, issuing loud instructions.

With the ambulance leading, Shen Mushi dashed out of the park, speaking to Meng Qiaoyuan as he ran, “That child’s condition is unstable. I’ll go back to check; perhaps I can assist with the surgery.”

Meng Qiaoyuan followed close behind, running as well. “Let’s go together! My car’s parked right at the entrance.”

They both got in and sped toward the hospital.

...

Winter’s night always descends quietly; before people realize the sun has set, darkness has already crept in. The bustling city of Jingzhou was ablaze with lights. Meng Qiaoyuan stood outside the operating room, waiting with anxious parents for news.

The young mother kept her head bowed, as though she were a culprit, silently repenting her guilt at the door. The accident had happened under her care; it was her own negligence that led to this, and she could find no excuse for herself.

Watching the mother pray with her head lowered, Meng Qiaoyuan felt a turmoil of emotions.

The family only asked why the child had been hurt, why the mother hadn’t watched over them, but not one cared about the isolated and helpless woman, whether she could bear the self-reproach and guilt that came with her child’s injury.

After a long time, Shen Mushi finally emerged from the operating room, pulling off his mask to face the parents who rushed forward.

“The patient is out of danger; you can rest assured.”

Meng Qiaoyuan heard a collective sigh of relief. The child’s grandmother immediately thanked him, “Thank you, doctor! You’re truly Haohao’s savior!”

Shen Mushi smiled gently, comforting the elderly woman, “It’s what we should do. Dr. Meng was of great help, too.”

The family members all turned to Meng Qiaoyuan, offering heartfelt thanks.

Unused to such attention, Meng Qiaoyuan quickly stepped back, waving her hands and insisting it wasn’t necessary.

She glanced at Shen Mushi, who nodded slightly, signaling her to leave through the staff passage.

Meng Qiaoyuan said her farewells to the parents and returned to her car to wait for Shen Mushi.

Soon, Shen Mushi, still on the phone, pulled open her car door.

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“Mm, yes, thanks. I’ll treat you to dinner another day,” he said before hanging up.

Turning to Meng Qiaoyuan, Shen Mushi asked, “Are you hungry?”

Meng Qiaoyuan shook her head. “I’m fine. What about you?”

Rubbing his stomach, Shen Mushi replied, “I’m starving. Come on, I’ll treat you to hotpot. Chongqing hotpot. I’ll set up the GPS.”

Meng Qiaoyuan started the car, letting the navigation guide them toward their destination.

“Those two kids weren’t seriously hurt, right?” Meng Qiaoyuan voiced the worry that had been weighing on her all afternoon.

Recalling the surgeries, Shen Mushi said, “One had a fractured calf and hip joint; the other a skull fracture with intracranial bleeding. Neither is a minor issue.”

Meng Qiaoyuan sighed softly, “Such misfortune. The children are so young.”

Shen Mushi reclined in his seat, rubbing his neck. “It’s the age for mischief. Bumps and scrapes are unavoidable. Don’t worry—kids heal quickly. These are all superficial injuries; rest and they’ll recover.”

Meng Qiaoyuan picked up on the fatigue in his voice. “Are you very tired? Your vacation got interrupted, you worked all afternoon in surgery. It must have been exhausting.”

Shen Mushi gazed absently at the car ceiling, his voice low. “Not really tired, just reminded how I never had such lively, climbing-around moments as a child. The only time I was naughty, I broke a protective bead bracelet.”

Meng Qiaoyuan glanced at him, wanting to say something but ultimately remaining silent.

The aroma of Chongqing hotpot was enticing; even before entering, the spicy scent of chili oil wafted out.

Inside, the main hall bustled with voices.

“So lively,” Meng Qiaoyuan murmured at the entrance, rubbing her hands.

Shen Mushi smiled at her, “Of course. This is the most authentic Chongqing hotpot in Jingzhou. I heard you like Sichuan cuisine, so I brought you here to try it.”

Following Shen Mushi upstairs, they were guided by a server to a private room. Meng Qiaoyuan looked out at the street scene and remarked, “Was that a reservation call just before we left? Otherwise, how could this room still be available?”

Shen Mushi handed her the menu. “The owner’s a high school friend of mine. He always keeps this room for his own people.”

Meng Qiaoyuan laughed, “You really do have quite the connections.”

Her favorite dish was beef tripe, and Shen Mushi ordered all the restaurant’s specialties, adding two extra portions of tripe prepared differently.

“That’s too much; it’ll be wasted if we can’t finish,” she said.

Shen Mushi smiled, “It’s fine. We can pack the leftovers and eat them at home later.”

The hotpot broth was served, the chili oil bubbling, a nine-grid array of spices dancing, whetting the appetite.

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Only then did Meng Qiaoyuan realize her hunger and began to eat heartily.

Shen Mushi actually enjoyed watching her eat. On the rare occasions they dined together, he always found himself drawn to her manner of eating.

Head bent, intently focused on the food before her, she earnestly brought each bite to her lips. No matter the dish, she enjoyed it with the most sincere expression.

After the meal, they passed through the still bustling main hall. Instead of hurrying back to the car, they strolled through the busy district to aid digestion.

They chatted idly, about everything from hospital work to daily life, from mutual friends to school stories.

Suddenly, Shen Mushi stopped. “Wait for me right here.”

Meng Qiaoyuan halted abruptly, casting him a puzzled look, “Are you going to buy oranges?”

Shen Mushi replied, “...I’m not that bored. Just wait, I’ll be right back.”

Before she could respond, Shen Mushi strode away. A few minutes later, he returned from the corner, holding an enormous bouquet.

“For you.”

Meng Qiaoyuan looked at the bouquet—lilies, daisies, pink roses, even a few sprigs of baby’s breath.

“Did you scoop up all the unsold flowers from the shop?” she teased.

Shen Mushi sighed, “You’re not cute when you mimic my words. I chose these carefully. There’s an open-air flower stall by the subway entrance—luckily it was still open.”

Meng Qiaoyuan nodded gently, but didn’t take the lively-looking bouquet. “No reward without merit.”

Shen Mushi paused, glancing at the flowers.

He hadn’t thought up any excuse; he’d just remembered there should be a flower shop nearby and went to buy them.

“Um... For the brave and kind doctor. May your thesis go smoothly and your work bring you joy.”

Meng Qiaoyuan looked at the bouquet but still didn’t accept it. “That’s a nice blessing, but don’t wish it for me again. I’m not like you—my thesis has never gone smoothly, and my work has never been joyful.”

“...”

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