nucmednet Chapter 932 Delicate Temperature
Chapter 932 Delicate Temperature
Teng Junhao stood at the gate, watching Song Shijie hurriedly get into the car with the two children.
The two loud bangs from the car doors revealed the grandfather and grandson's worry and concern for Mu Xiaoji.
The black minivan sped away and disappeared from sight, leaving Teng Junhao with a furrowed brow.
The surrounding guests also lost interest in staying and left in twos and threes.
They whispered amongst themselves, their exaggerated faces displaying a mixture of regret and skepticism.
The birthday banquet, which should have ended in a lively and joyous atmosphere, ended in chaos and somberness, and in a rather unpleasant manner.
Teng Zijing stood at the entrance to the living room, staring at the empty courtyard gate, his fingertips clenched so tightly they turned white.
The moment Mu Xiaoji collapsed, the almost overflowing panic in Jiang Chengyu's eyes felt like a needle pricking his heart.
He took out his phone and dialed Deng Zhouyi's number: "Which hospital are you at? I'm coming over now."
"We are at the city's central hospital," Deng Zhouyi said succinctly.
"Jiang Chengyu's emotions are a bit unstable. You stay there and take care of him. I'll go check on him," Teng Zijing instructed.
"Um... just entered the emergency room... okay, I understand." Deng Zhouyi's words were concise and clear.
After hanging up the phone, he turned and walked into the living room, glanced at the old man sitting silently on the sofa, and said in a deep voice:
"Grandpa, I'm going to the hospital to see Mr. Mu. It's been a chaotic day, you should go back to your room and rest!"
The old man sat on the sofa, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest, and after a long while he nodded:
"Go ahead, call me anytime if you hear anything," Teng Zijing replied, then turned and quickly left.
The courtyard was left with only leftover food, dishes, and a messy dining table. The evening breeze made the tablecloth sway erratically, carrying a sense of desolation.
This birthday celebration, which should have been a perfect occasion, has ultimately been marred by an indelible scar.
Teng Zijing, his face clouded with worry, drove his Maserati. The high speed of the car reflected his concern about the incident.
The Maserati quickly arrived at the courtyard of the city's central hospital and skillfully parked in a parking space.
Teng Zijing opened the car door and got out, walking briskly towards the hospital lobby.
The lobby was bustling with people, and the noisy chatter mixed with the strong smell of disinfectant filled the air.
The stinging sensation made his nasal passages feel tight, but he seemed oblivious and headed straight for the emergency room.
On a bench outside the emergency room, Jiang Shuo and Zhou Xue sat side by side, both children with their heads down and their little hands clasped together, neither of them saying a word.
Jiang Shuo's eyes were still red, and it seemed as if there were still wet tear stains on his eyelashes.
After the initial impulse subsided, only heavy regret remained.
Song Shijie paced back and forth at the door, his leather shoes clicking on the ground with a "thump-thump" sound, revealing his anxiety.
Deng Zhouyi leaned against the wall, his fingertips unconsciously stroking his phone case. He looked up when he heard footsteps.
Upon seeing that it was Teng Zijing, he immediately straightened up to greet him: "Master Jing, you've come so quickly? What about Grandpa...?"
"Grandpa is alright, he sent me over to check on him personally." Teng Zijing unbuttoned his shirt, put his hands in his pockets, and glanced past him towards the emergency room door.
Her voice betrayed her urgency, "How is President Mu? Is there any news from inside?"
Deng Zhouyi frowned, his tone carrying a hint of uncertain reassurance: "He should be... alright, right? He woke up on the way."
With an innocent look in his eyes, he met Teng Zijing's gaze and said in a relaxed tone, "What kind of damage could a plate possibly cause? At worst, it should only be some minor scratches!"
Before he could finish speaking, he was silenced by a glare from Teng Zijing. Deng Zhouyi shrank back and stepped aside to let him pass.
Teng Zijing ignored him, walked to Song Shijie's side, and gestured for him to proceed.
"President Song, please sit here for a while. Walking back and forth won't solve anything. President Mu woke up on the way, so he should be fine."
Song Shijie stopped, nodded, and let out a long sigh, but couldn't help glancing towards the corner—
Jiang Chengyu was squatting there, his face turned to the side, his shoulders slightly hunched.
He was still covered in blood, which ran from his jawline down to his shoulder.
The dark shirt was stained with patches of dark red, which looked particularly shocking, and even the nurses passing by couldn't help but sneak a peek.
Just then, the emergency room door creaked open from the inside.
The nurse walked ahead, holding the IV bag, with Mu Xiaoji following behind, her steps appearing fairly steady.
His forehead was wrapped in thick gauze, with a faint red tinge showing through the edges.
"Chenxi!" Song Shijie immediately went to greet him and grabbed his arm.
Her voice trembled, and her eyes were full of heartache: "How are you? Does your head still hurt? What did the doctor say?"
Mu Xiaoji swayed slightly after being supported by him, but quickly steadied herself and smiled at Song Shijie.
He said in a light tone, "Dad, don't look at me like that. I'm fine, it's just a little scrape."
"I needed a few stitches, and the doctor said I just need to rest at home for a few days. Don't worry about it."
"Just a minor cut?" Teng Zijing also came closer, noticing the blood seeping through the gauze.
He immediately got angry, turned around, glared at the nurse, and yelled, "How do your doctors treat patients here?"
He's injured like this, and you're just going to let him get through this on his own? Don't you know how to take care of a patient?
Or I could understand being wheeled to a ward on a gurney to get an IV drip. But what kind of situation is this?
The young nurse trembled and timidly uttered two words: "We..." before Mu Xiaoji interrupted her.
"Master Jing!" Mu Xiaoji quickly grabbed him and said helplessly, "It's my own feeling that there's no need to be hospitalized."
I decided to go home and get an IV drip. Look, it's just two bags of anti-inflammatory medicine; I can handle it myself at home.
The doctor was going to give me a wheelchair, but I felt it was unnecessary. It's really not that serious; don't overreact.
As soon as he finished speaking, he felt a barrage of gazes falling on him.
Looking around, Jiang Chengyu saw that everyone who was supposed to be in the corridor was at the door. He slowly stood up from the corner.
Her fingertips curled unconsciously, her Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and she just stared at him blankly.
The bloodstains on his face hadn't been wiped away yet, and his eyes were heavy, as if veiled by a layer of fog, making it impossible to discern his emotions, yet carrying an indescribable heaviness.
At this moment, Jiang Shuo slowly walked over, twisting the hem of his clothes with his little hands, his head bowed even lower, his voice barely a whisper: "Daddy... I'm sorry..."
Seeing him like this, Mu Xiaoji felt a pang of pain instantly replaced by tenderness.
He reached out and patted Jiang Shuo's head, saying gently, "It's alright, Dad doesn't blame you. Come on, let's go home."
Jiang Shuo looked up at the gauze on his forehead, his eyes reddening again, but he nodded firmly and gently took Mu Xiaoji's hand that wasn't receiving an IV.
Seeing this, Teng Zijing no longer took his anger out on the doctor. Instead, he silently approached the doctor who came out of the emergency room.
He asked in a low voice, "Doctor, given Mr. Mu's condition, what precautions should he take after returning home?"
The doctor's professional answer: "Mr. Mu's head wound was quite deep, and he has already undergone debridement and suturing."
Postoperative care should focus on keeping the wound dry to prevent infection from getting it wet.
I will prescribe antibiotics, which must be taken as prescribed to prevent secondary infections.
In addition, it is recommended to rest recently and avoid strenuous activity. If headaches worsen,
Nausea, vomiting, or abnormal bleeding or oozing from wounds require prompt follow-up examination and treatment.
Teng Zijing nodded to indicate that he understood, then turned to Deng Zhouyi, patted him on the shoulder, and said:
"Deng, go and handle the remaining formalities. We'll meet at the entrance."
"Okay, I'll go and take care of the rest of the formalities now." As soon as she finished speaking, she followed the doctor to the end of the corridor with quick steps.
Song Shijie, supporting Mu Xiaoji's other arm, carefully took the IV bottle.
Protecting his IV line, the group slowly walked out of the hospital.
Jiang Chengyu stood there, watching Mu Xiaoji being escorted away by the crowd. The white gauze was particularly eye-catching under the lights.
He raised his hand and touched the dried blood on his face; the chill from his fingertips seemed to reach deep into his heart.
When they arrived at the parking space, Rong Shishan was leaning against the car door smoking. Seeing them get out, he tossed the cigarette butt aside.
She greeted him with a look of astonishment: "Why did you come out like this? Aren't you supposed to be hospitalized for observation for a couple of days?"
Mu Xiaoji opened the car door and sat in the back seat, explaining with a smile, "Old Rong, it's not that precious, it's just a small wound, you can rest at home."
Rong Shishan shook his head and sighed, then walked around to the driver's side to open the door, adding a final reminder:
"Then you'd better go back and lie down and rest properly, you can't take it lightly."
Zhou Xue and Jiang Shuo boarded the bus from the other side and squeezed next to Mu Xiaoji.
Mu Xiaoji took the IV bottle and hung it on the handrail on the roof of the car. The medicine dripped slowly from the tube, gleaming faintly in the dimly lit car.
He turned to Teng Zijing outside the car and said, "Brother Jing, go back and apologize to the old man for me. I'm really sorry for ruining his birthday banquet today."
"I understand. Grandpa is very magnanimous; he won't blame you," Teng Zijing replied.
His gaze drifted towards the hospital entrance, but he still didn't see Jiang Chengyu come out.
Just then, Deng Zhouyi ran over quickly, carrying a white medicine bag, and handed it to Mu Xiaoji, saying:
"Mr. Mu, this is the medicine prescribed by the doctor. Please remember to take it on time. I wish you a speedy recovery."
"Thank you very much, Assistant Deng." Mu Xiaoji took it and placed it on his lap, saying politely, "I will definitely make a special trip to apologize to the old man another day."
Unable to suppress his doubts, Teng Zijing finally asked, "Aren't you waiting for Jiang Chengyu?"
Mu Xiaoji paused in fastening his seatbelt, then shook his head, his voice as soft as the wind: "Let's go."
Teng Zijing didn't ask any more questions and reached out to close the back door for him.
"Drive carefully on the road," Teng Zijing instructed Rong Shishan, waving his hand.
Song Shijie shook hands with Teng Zijing and said, "Goodbye!"
"Goodbye, Mr. Song!"
Song Shijie walked to the passenger seat and sat down, then slammed the car door shut.
Rong Shishan stepped on the gas, and the car smoothly drove out of the parking lot.
In the rearview mirror, Teng Zijing and Deng Zhouyi's figures grew smaller and smaller until they finally disappeared into the traffic.
The carriage was quiet, with only the sound of medicine dripping from the IV tube.
He watched the streetlights flash by outside the window, their light flickering and casting dappled shadows in his eyes.
The indescribable weariness in his eyes seemed to sink quietly as the light and shadow shifted.
Jiang Shuo leaned on Mu Xiaoji's shoulder and whispered, "Dad, I won't be naughty anymore."
Mu Xiaoji touched his hair without saying a word, but his eyes were still fixed on the delicate warmth in the little monster's arms.