As soon as she approached the hospital room door, Liu Mao's voice drifted out: "How was I supposed to know you hadn't eaten lunch yet? You didn't say anything."
"I did. On WeChat," Xu Huaisong replied firmly.
Ruan Yu paused about a meter away from the door, glancing down at the thermal container in her hand, momentarily speechless.
Xu Huaisong must be delirious from his illness. He had indeed sent the message—but to her.
Now it made sense. After hanging up their voice call, she'd received a message that seemed oddly familiar in tone and startlingly direct: "Bring me some congee at noon." It even included the location and room number.
Had he meant to send that to Liu Mao but accidentally messaged her instead?
Yet faced with such a commanding sentence, coupled with the memory of Xu Huaisong working on her case while hooked to an IV last night, she couldn't possibly refuse—human decency wouldn't allow it.
So what now? Go in or not?
As Ruan Yu hesitated in the corridor, Liu Mao's voice rose again: "Fine, I'll go get it for you." His brisk footsteps approached the door.
Before she could retreat, he spotted her. She forced an awkward smile. "Lawyer Liu," she said, lifting the thermal container, "Going to buy congee?"
Ruan Yu was ushered inside by Liu Mao.
Xu Huaisong sat propped against pillows, typing on his laptop as if engrossed in work. When he noticed her enter, surprise flickered in his eyes.
"Uh..." Ruan Yu began, "The door was open, I overheard you..." She waved her phone. "Lawyer Xu, you sent the message to me by mistake. Here's your congee."
Xu Huaisong seemed momentarily stunned. He checked his phone and said, "Oh." After a pause, he added, "Thanks."
Setting down the thermal container and a stack of documents, Ruan Yu said, "I'll head out then. These are the finalized anti-plagiarism comparison documents—you can review them when you're feeling better."
Liu Mao stopped her. "You made this trip in the sweltering heat for nothing—let me treat you to ice cream."
Ruan Yu declined with a wave, so when he compromised by suggesting, "At least stay for some fruit," she couldn't refuse again.
Liu Mao gestured for her to sit in the visitor's chair while placing the thermal container on Xu Huaisong's bedside table, unscrewing the lid.
The rich fragrance of osmanthus filled the air. The double-layered container held plain congee in one compartment and red bean paste in the other.
What kind of unusual combination was this?
Yet Xu Huaisong appeared completely familiar with it. After wiping his hands with a wet wipe, he slowly poured the red bean paste over the congee.
A sense of being "superfluous" washed over Liu Mao. Curious, he asked, "Is this a local specialty where you're from?"
He'd said "you" collectively, but Xu Huaisong naturally replied, "Mhm."
Ruan Yu nearly jumped. "How did you know I'm also from Suzhou, Lawyer Xu?"
"Did my research." He scooped up a spoonful of congee, echoing her own words back at her. Noticing her paling face, he added with a slight press of his lips, "Your WeChat profile."
Oh right—her profile listed "Suzhou" as her location.
Good. Being hometown acquaintances was fine, as long as he didn't know they were alumni.
Relieved, Ruan Yu chuckled nervously and changed the subject. "I didn't use glutinous rice since it's harder to digest—the texture might not be ideal, but it'll do."
"Mhm."Liu Mao felt even more out of place and was about to slip away when he looked up and saw Chen Hui, who had been sent away earlier, returning. The moment Chen Hui spotted Ruan Yu, he exclaimed excitedly, "Miss Ruan, you're here to see Brother Song too?"
Ruan Yu thought to herself that this was all a big misunderstanding, but she couldn’t very well admit she wasn’t here to see Xu Huaisong, so she nodded and said, "Yes."
Chen Hui smiled at her, then turned and noticed the different bowl of porridge in front of Xu Huaisong. He let out a puzzled "Huh?"
"Pass me the tissues," Xu Huaisong cut in swiftly before Chen Hui could voice his question.
Liu Mao, who was closer to the bedside table, handed him the entire box and patted Chen Hui’s shoulder. "Let’s go. We’ve got work back at the firm."
Chen Hui gave an "Oh," but just as he reached the door, he suddenly turned back. "Oh, Brother Song, I saw that email you sent at 3 a.m. today. I’ll get the materials to you later."
Ruan Yu froze.
At 3 a.m., she had definitely been "out cold." Hadn’t Xu Huaisong said he’d fallen asleep too, which was why he hadn’t ended the call?
Her gaze sharpened just as she heard him question, "3 a.m.? Were you sleepwalking?"
Liu Mao reacted with lightning speed, veering off track: "Xiao Chen must’ve remembered wrong. That email was from me."
Ruan Yu: "..."
These lawyers couldn’t even keep their messages straight. She couldn’t help but feel anxious for their clients.
"Really?" Chen Hui scratched the back of his head, half-convinced as he walked out. But once in the parking lot, he slapped his thigh. "Wait, no, Brother Mao! It was definitely Brother Song’s email!"
Liu Mao opened the car door. "Use some common sense. Do you not want to work at the firm anymore?"
Chen Hui seemed to finally catch on. As he buckled his seatbelt, he muttered, "Now that I think about it, Brother Song acts really weird around Miss Ruan. Like the day he first arrived—he made me put on this act about Zhang Jie running into trouble. Later, when I called him to ask when to pick him up, he randomly answered, 'Haven’t eaten'..."
Liu Mao hadn’t known about these details. After a moment’s thought, he sent Xu Huaisong a message: Don’t push your schemes too far. Small things are one thing, but don’t drag out the counter-plagiarism report. The other side has already submitted their final draft. It’s unreasonable to delay any longer.
Back in the hospital room, Xu Huaisong, having just finished his porridge, picked up his phone. After reading the message, he paused, then typed: You think I want to drag this out?
He and Ruan Yu were like two halves of a severed lotus root—connected only by this case, with nothing else between them.
But Liu Mao was right. It was time to bring this to an end.
Seeing that Xu Huaisong had finished eating, Ruan Yu began clearing the dishes and repeated, "Lawyer Xu, rest well. I’ll take my leave now."
Xu Huaisong nodded and opened a file, but just as she reached the door with the thermal lunchbox, he called out, "Wait."
Ruan Yu turned back, her gaze questioning.
He said, "Your manuscript is missing a chapter."
Indeed, it was missing a chapter—the one where the female lead had a dream .
Ruan Yu’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest. She forced herself to stay calm. "No, it isn’t."
Xu Huaisong gave her no room to dodge. "Confirm Chapter 23."
"Now?"
He nodded—a fatal nod.
Gritting her teeth, she walked back. "But I don’t have the manuscript with me."
"Isn’t it in your website backend?"
How did a male lawyer even know about the backend of a female-oriented site?
Ruan Yu slowly opened the backend on her phone.
There was no escape, but at least she could find a fig leaf. "The connection’s slow. I’ll send it to you on my way back.""There's Wi-Fi here, the password is four sixes and four eights."
Ruan Yu took a deep breath, gritted her teeth, and three minutes later, she copied and pasted the chapter content into a document and sent it to him. Then she said, "Here you go. I’ll head out now."
But Xu Huaisong frowned at his computer.
"What’s wrong?" she asked.
"It’s too long. My eyes hurt."
Hadn’t he come in because of his stomach?
"Then rest first and read it later."
"You read it aloud."
"?"
Ruan Yu rubbed her ear. "What did you say?"
Xu Huaisong closed his eyes, tugged at the blanket, and half-lay down. "I roughly remember the original work. You read it once, and if I confirm there are no issues, we can wrap this up."
"..."
He might be fine, but she wouldn’t be.
Ruan Yu couldn’t even force a fake smile. "I’ve already checked. There’s nothing wrong with this chapter."
"During World War II, the U.S. and Britain investigated the bullet hole distribution on surviving aircraft to reinforce the most heavily damaged areas. But a statistician pointed out that they should focus on the sections with fewer bullet holes—because when those areas were hit, the planes rarely made it back. Yet this data was often overlooked." Xu Huaisong recounted the story with his eyes closed.
"..."
Turning a plagiarism rebuttal into a WWII analogy—even as a writer, she didn’t have that kind of imagination.
Ruan Yu couldn’t muster a single rebuttal. Defeated, she pulled out her phone, completely forgetting that the Jinjiang app had a text-to-speech function.
Fine. She’d give him a fighter jet.
It was just a bit of steamy fiction. Weren’t they both adults?
She closed the door, set down the thermos, and picked up her phone. Pressing her left hand against her right wrist to steady herself, she cleared her throat and began in a robotic tone: "Chapter Twenty-Three..."
As soon as the word "Three" left her lips, Xu Huaisong opened his eyes. "Never mind. Don’t bother."
Ruan Yu froze in confusion. The next moment, there was a knock at the door.
A female nurse outside called through the door, "Mr. Xu, a Ms. Tao claims to be your mother and is asking for your room number at the front desk."
A minute later, before Ruan Yu could make her escape, she came face-to-face with the mother and younger sister of the male lead from that steamy chapter.
The door opened, and the three women stared at each other for a moment before Tao Rong and Ruan Yu nodded politely in unison.
Xu Huaishi blinked, scanning Ruan Yu from head to toe as if recognizing her. "Oh—!"
"Xu Huaishi." Xu Huaisong sat up straighter, giving her a stern look. "It’s Friday. Did you skip class?"
She immediately latched onto Tao Rong’s arm. "Of course not! Mom approved it! You came back to the country and didn’t even return to Su City—we had to come all the way here."
Tao Rong patted her hand lightly. "Your brother’s busy." Then she glanced at Ruan Yu, still rooted in place. "And this is...?"
Only then did Ruan Yu realize she was still gripping her phone in her dramatic reading pose. Relaxing her stiff posture, she introduced herself, "Hello, I’m Lawyer Xu’s client. I came to discuss work with him."
Xu Huaisong tacitly confirmed her identity and gestured for Tao Rong and Xu Huaishi to sit. "I told you it’s nothing serious—just jet lag."
"You’re hospitalized, and you call that...?" Tao Rong’s eyes reddened, but she stopped mid-sentence, likely mindful of the outsider present.Ruan Yu immediately realized her presence was intruding on the family and was about to leave when Xu Huaisong looked over and asked, "Could you help my mom wash some fruits?"
"Oh, sure." She nodded, turning to pick up the fruit basket from his bedside table. It wasn't until she stepped outside that she felt something was off.
Helping his mom wash fruits? Why did that feel a bit strange somehow?
As she stood there puzzled, a crisp young voice suddenly called from behind, "Sister, let me help you wash them together!"
Author's note: Just to clarify—the WWII fighter plane example referenced here is actually from today's National College Entrance Exam essay prompt. I borrowed the material for this scene. (#^.^#)
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