Chapter Nineteen: Farewell, Jiang Mochen

Su Wan stepped outside, and the old doctor slapped his thigh and shouted, “Ah, you finally came out! That rascal Jiang Mochen’s body is so frail, and no one’s looking after him when he faints!”

Su Wan frowned slightly. “Doesn’t he have any family or relatives?”

“Family? He’s got none! Just a sister with no blood relation, married off to another village. You can’t just ignore him—he got hurt because of you, after all.”

“But he was the one who told me not to interfere,” Su Wan replied, somewhat unwillingly.

The old doctor was about to speak when Old Master Su’s voice rang out from the second floor. “He was just being polite—did you really take him at his word?”

“Go and see how he’s doing. If there’s anything he needs, take it from home.”

Since the old master had spoken, Su Wan had no choice but to comply.

She followed the old doctor out. “Why don’t you take care of him yourself?”

“He’s a big fellow! How could an old man like me move him? I need your help, don’t I?” The old doctor didn’t even turn his head as he walked on ahead.

Su Wan followed behind, her mind suddenly flashing back to Jiang Mochen’s indifferent, cold expression when he’d driven her away the other day.

She was fond of handsome men, yes, but she wasn’t about to throw herself at someone who turned a cold face to her.

Once he recovered, she’d set clear boundaries.

The two of them walked all the way to Jiang Mochen’s house. The courtyard gate stood wide open, and there he was, collapsed on the ground, lying under the blazing sun.

Su Wan was startled and hurried over to help him up. “You saw he’d fainted and still did nothing?”

The old doctor shrugged. “Told you, I’m an old man—I can’t lift him.”

“Couldn’t you at least shade him from the sun? He’s getting sunburned!” Su Wan demanded.

The old doctor picked up his medical kit with an indifferent air, muttering under his breath, “He’s already dark-skinned anyway.”

Ignoring him, Su Wan slung Jiang Mochen’s arm over her shoulder, but he was so tall that, even with all her strength, his legs still dragged on the ground.

“Come here and give me a hand,” Su Wan called.

This time, the old doctor didn’t argue. He came over to lift Jiang Mochen’s legs.

Together, they carried Jiang Mochen into the house and laid him on the bed.

“Turn him over. I need to check the wound on the back of his head,” the old doctor said between breaths, fishing a bottle of alcohol and some cotton swabs from his kit.

Su Wan, exhausted, straightened up with difficulty, then turned Jiang Mochen over so he lay face-down on the bed.

The old doctor deftly peeled away the gauze on the back of Jiang Mochen’s head. “Tsk, just as I thought—infected.”

Su Wan leaned in for a look and saw pus oozing from the wound. “Didn’t he come to you to have the wound cleaned?”

The old doctor dabbed away the pus with gauze. “No—otherwise I wouldn’t have thought to come check on him, and I wouldn’t have found him passed out like this.”

“He really doesn’t know how to take care of himself, always ending up like this.”

Su Wan was a little curious. The old doctor had only moved here last year and rarely mingled with the villagers. How did he end up on such familiar terms with the reclusive Jiang Mochen?

“I suspect he fainted this time from low blood sugar. Go make a pot of porridge,” the old doctor grumbled as he cleaned the wound. “That boy’s not normal—always forgetting to eat, like he never feels hungry.”

Su Wan didn’t answer, but hurried off to the kitchen to look around.

For someone so rough, Jiang Mochen kept his home surprisingly tidy. The stove gleamed, rice and flour were placed where you could see them at a glance, and there was plenty of firewood.

Su Wan decided to try lighting the stove again.

Maybe it was because Su Chen wasn’t there, but this time she managed to get the fire going easily.

Next was adding water and rice—how hard could it be to cook some porridge? Su Wan was full of confidence.

By the time the rice was in the pot, the old doctor had finished bandaging the wound. He came to the kitchen door and leaned against the frame, watching Su Wan. “Girl, I’ve still got patients at the clinic. Make sure he eats the porridge.”

Su Wan looked up from the smoking stove. “Wait, I’m not sure I can manage this.”

But the old doctor didn’t hear her. “I’ve given him a bottle of glucose—he should wake up soon.”

And with that, without waiting for her answer, he picked up his little case and left.

By the time Su Wan chased after him to the door, the old doctor had disappeared.

“Damn it! Don’t go! I can’t cook!”

The fire in the stove had gone out again, forcing Su Wan to start over.

The afternoon heat gradually faded.

Jiang Mochen drifted awake from his dreams, his head swimming, and was immediately met with the pungent smell of smoke.

His eyes snapped open, and he leapt from the bed, hurrying to the kitchen.

The kitchen was filled with smoke. A woman’s voice coughed constantly, muttering to herself, “It must be the firewood—too damp! Cough, cough…”

“Su Chen, come save your sister! I’m going to be smoked to death here!”

Jiang Mochen instantly recognized Su Wan’s voice. He frowned in confusion—what was she doing here?

Covering his nose, he silently moved behind her.

Su Wan was still struggling to throw firewood into the stove. “Damn it, why is it all smoke and no fire?”

“You used too much wood,” Jiang Mochen couldn’t help but point out.

Su Wan was startled by the sudden voice. She turned in surprise to see a tall figure standing right behind her, gazing down at her in silence.

For some reason, a chill ran up her spine, and a jolt of electricity shot through her back, making her tremble. “Why do you walk so quietly?!”

Jiang Mochen couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction. He bent down and pulled the firewood from the stove, tossing it into the water bucket to extinguish it. “You sneak into my house without a word, and you blame me for being quiet?”

Su Wan quickly stepped aside. “Don’t get the wrong idea. If that old man from the clinic hadn’t come to find me, I wouldn’t be here.”

Jiang Mochen paused in his movements. “He asked you to come?”

Su Wan covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve and nodded. “But why didn’t you go get your wound cleaned? It’s so hot and now it’s infected and oozing pus.”

“Were you planning to wait until it started to stink?” she scolded.

Jiang Mochen remained silent, continuing to clear out the firewood.

Once there were only three or four pieces left inside, he bent down and blew gently, and at last the flames caught.

Su Wan was still waiting for his answer, but he simply opened the window to let the smoke out.

When the kitchen had cleared a little, he turned around.

He saw that the smoke had blackened Su Wan’s nose, and her bright, watery eyes stared at him. She looked so comical, like a little fox he’d once seen while hunting in the mountains—unexpectedly adorable.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

Su Wan looked at him, completely baffled. “What are you laughing at?”

Jiang Mochen shook his head, unable to stop, forcing himself not to laugh out loud, tears even brimming at the corners of his eyes.

Su Wan rolled her eyes at him in exasperation.

This only made Jiang Mochen laugh even harder.

He waved his hand weakly and sat down beside Su Wan.

Su Wan glanced over at him. He really did have a great smile—perfect white teeth, eyes curved into crescents, sunny and handsome.

If only he weren’t so odd.