Song Tan’s Chronicle - Chapter 102

Capital City.

Wanhe Garden.

A low-profile black SUV slowly approached, and the electronic gate lifted automatically. A vague silhouette of a woman could be seen in the driver’s seat.

In the back seat sat a young man with a pale face and calm demeanor. The small mole on his forehead accentuated his melancholic aura.

Lu Jing glanced at him through the rearview mirror, sensing his distraction and detachment.

This feeling was unsettling.

He wore a neatly pressed cotton home outfit. Despite having a few nourishing meals of shepherd’s purse dumplings during his hospital stay, her son had visibly lost weight, especially recently.

She had hoped he would recover slowly at home after being discharged, but ever since that editor visited yesterday, her son had been in this state…

With a sigh, she spoke, “Ah Chuan, I forgot to tell you, that girl sent another box of things.”

“I opened it. It’s three pounds of tea leaves, said to be grown by her family. There are also ten bundles of Astragalus. She worried it wouldn’t stay fresh on the long journey, so she didn’t send much. Just blanch and freeze it.”

“But the tea is good. Drink more of it.”

Initially, Lu Jing felt heartbroken seeing her son in such a state after saving someone.

Later, he insisted on transferring to Capital City and refused to leave any contact information. Even though she knew they were avoiding her, Lu Jing still felt a bit hurt.

But now, she thought this girl was truly simple-hearted. She expressed her gratitude with sincerity—no money talk, no grand gestures, and no questions asked.

Whenever the family had something good, they just sent it directly without much explanation, as if expressing gratitude itself was a burden.

This made Lu Jing feel guilty—her son saved the girl, which was his duty, and as a mother, she was proud. Her initial resentment was indeed misplaced.

Besides, she had visited the countryside. After her son started earning money, they enjoyed high-quality food, but nothing tasted as good as the shepherd’s purse sent by that girl.

It was hard to believe it grew randomly in the fields. It must have been carefully selected.

Imagine if someone who didn’t appreciate its value threw it away—how painful would that be? That’s why she thought the girl was so genuine.

On a different note, the old man in the opposite ward would stand at the door with a crutch at every mealtime. After Lu Jing sent him dumplings twice, their own stock became noticeably scarce, and she was too embarrassed to ask Song Tan for more, so she stopped.

Mother and son ate dumplings furtively, locking the door and ventilating the room.

Sigh, eating their own food made them feel guilty.

This guilt peaked when the old man brought a vintage ham as a gift when they were discharged.

Thinking about it now, Lu Jing pondered, “Ah Chuan, I saw that the tea is all packed. Let’s try it later. If it’s good, I’ll take a box and visit the hospital again.”

She shivered at the thought.

Just two meals of dumplings for such a big ham, and it was of high quality, difficult to procure.

Reflecting on their sneaky behavior, she felt truly guilty.

Engrossed in her thoughts, she didn’t notice her son in the back seat.

In the rearview mirror, Lu Chuan turned slightly to look out the window, his pale face fully visible.

His right side had been shaved significantly, and a hideous scar ran from behind his ear to his forehead and near his cheekbone.

Another scar extended five centimeters from behind his ear, across his neck and back, down to his collarbone and chest.

If he removed his shirt, one would see the burn scars spreading across his back and right chest. Though the area was extensive, the severity wasn’t extreme, sparing him from excruciating treatment.

His skin was fair and sensitive. The doctor had mentioned several times that without skin grafts, scars would remain.

But skin graft surgery would take at least two to eight weeks or more. He didn’t have the time.

Partly, delaying the surgery would keep Zhou Yongzhi at bay. Additionally, he had a copyright deal to discuss, making hospital stays inconvenient.

So, it was postponed.

Burn scars were unlike other wounds, appearing terrifying. Strangers might be startled at the sight.

This accentuated Lu Chuan’s dark eyebrows and calm eyes.

From the side, his high nose resembled a mountain ridge, and only his slightly pale lips revealed his poor condition.

He sat upright, and the mole on his forehead became even more noticeable.

Lu Chuan lowered his eyelashes, recalling the message on his phone from a few days ago:

[I just sent three pounds of tea. Drink more of it.]

The message was distant yet familiar, vaguely…

Vaguely like what?

Lu Chuan thought it was like his mom’s tone: “The tea is good. Drink more of it.”

He remembered how difficult it was to pull people out of the car, and the girl’s pale face and surprisingly calm eyes left a deep impression.

Beyond that, he couldn’t recall much.

It was too chaotic then. He didn’t just save her, and now even her face was blurry.

The car parked steadily in the underground garage. Lu Chuan opened the trunk to move the box, but Lu Jing shoved her bag into his hand. “Go, just carry your clothes. You still have wounds, don’t do any heavy lifting.”

Saying this, she lifted the foam box and headed to the elevator.

This apartment was bought with the money from Lu Chuan’s first book. At that time, housing prices weren’t so high, and it was a 140-square-meter unit with a terrace on the 27th floor.

In the elevator, Lu Jing kept chattering, “You planted a lot of flowers on the terrace. I didn’t know how to water them, so I followed your instructions. If the soil was light, I watered it. Now that you’re back, take care of your flowers and plants while you rest.”

The electronic lock clicked, and the door opened to reveal a six or seven-square-meter entry garden.

Though well-ventilated, it was in the shade, filled with tropical plants of varying heights.

With no one to tend them, a large velvet-textured leaf stretched forward, forcing Lu Jing to tilt her head to avoid it while carrying the box.

“What kind of leaf is this? Every time I see it, I want to ask but forget—it looks like velvet!”