Chapter 28

Chapter 28

◎He’s freaking out…◎

After waking up, Meng Qi—once slightly more alert—immediately began typing furiously on his phone, enthusiastically expressing his gratitude to Dong Jiaming. He also arranged to visit Dong’s home during the summer break to meet the legendary elderly Chinese medicine practitioner: silver-haired yet youthful-faced, a figure so awe-inspiring people instinctively wanted to kneel before him.

But the moment he opened that unfamiliar text message, Meng Qi jolted fully awake—as if doused with a shot of strong black coffee! Judging by the familiar tone and content, there was no need to guess who’d sent it. Meng Qi pressed his lips together, his expression darkening as he blocked the unknown number.

He’d declared his intention to die alone—and he meant to stick to it. In the days ahead, he would work relentlessly toward that solitary end! Of course, this vow applied only in this world. If he ever found himself back in the real world, he still planned to experience a bittersweet romance.

The 7 a.m. sunlight was warm, gentle—not harsh or glaring. Through a narrow gap in the curtains, Meng Qi watched tiny dust particles dance in the golden beams, finding the sight deeply soothing.

He’d loved watching this since childhood—and still did. Sunlight filtering through the curtain slit resembled radiant harp strings, and those insignificant motes played their own unique songs of life upon them, each in its own way! Meng Qi wished he could be like those specks of dust—possessing the vitality to belt out his own song, no matter the circumstances.

Lost in watching the dust motes “play the harp,” Meng Qi suddenly heard the front door open. He assumed it must be the live-in housekeeper returning. Remembering Dong Jiaming’s dietary prescription, he snatched up his phone, dashed out of the bedroom, and hurried to find her—then showed her the recipe so she could plan his daily meals accordingly.

Meng Qi was desperate to shake off his current, embarrassing state of constant yawning.

In his former life, he routinely rose at 4 or 5 a.m. and went to bed around 11 p.m. or midnight, studying intensely all day. Even with only six or seven hours of sleep per night, that grueling schedule never left him fatigued. Back then, he’d felt as if injected daily with adrenaline—bursting with energy.

But ever since arriving in this world—whether due to incompatible magnetic fields or, as Dong Jiaming suggested, severe qi and blood deficiency in this body—he’d been perpetually exhausted, unable to get enough rest. It drove him mad! Worse, this persistent grogginess terrified him—he couldn’t bear another day like this! Since Dong Jiaming had laid out a clear plan, he had no choice but to try it.

The housekeeper first set the vegetable basket she’d been carrying onto the dining table, then took Meng Qi’s phone and squinted at the screen. She managed to make out a few characters: “Goji berries, Chinese angelica, donkey-hide gelatin, Dendrobium… Den… den…”

The character “斛” (hú) had too many strokes; with her failing eyesight, she couldn’t decipher it clearly, repeatedly holding the phone closer, then farther away.

In his haste, Meng Qi had forgotten that older people often develop presbyopia. Watching her struggle over “den…” for several seconds without progress, he stepped in and read aloud: “That character is pronounced ‘hú’—Dendrobium nobile.”

“Oh—‘hú’! Yes, I know Dendrobium—it’s excellent stuff,” the housekeeper replied, then continued squinting downward. “Also need to eat more lamb, beef, duck, and pork liver regularly…”

Her voice softened as she read, and her gaze drifted from the phone screen to Meng Qi’s face. Then, doubtfully, she asked, “Young Master… are you sure this prescription is for *you*?”

This came from the grandson of a medical master—how could it possibly be wrong? Meng Qi met her eyes squarely and replied with absolute certainty: “Yes. It’s for me.”

After a pause, the housekeeper hesitated before asking, “Will you be eating it here at home—or should I prepare it for you to take to school?”

What kind of question was that? Why would he carry food that would sit for hours to school instead of eating it fresh at home? Besides, neither he nor the “Meng Qi” from the novel had ever brought meals to school…

The question struck Meng Qi as utterly bizarre—leaving him bewildered. He stood there, staring at the housekeeper for a moment, then decided to voice his confusion directly: Was there something wrong with the recipe? Otherwise, why ask such an odd question?

The housekeeper shook her head first, saying no—that Meng Qi was overthinking it. But just as he resolved to drop the matter, she added hesitantly, “Young Master… you might not want to hear this, but I still think you could bring the young lady home. I promise to take good care of her. And if you don’t want Master and Madam to find out, I’ll help keep it secret—for now.”

“Women are especially fragile at times like this—prone to overthinking. If you don’t treat her well, she may resent you later.”

What young lady? What “time like this”? What on earth was she talking about? Meng Qi’s head filled with question marks.

“Young Master… was that medicine ineffective last time—and you accidentally got the young lady pregnant?” the housekeeper volunteered helpfully. “I can tell at a glance this prescription is for a pregnant woman. When my daughter-in-law was expecting, she bought these ingredients constantly—especially donkey-hide gelatin. She consumed it almost daily in the final months! That stuff’s expensive—costs several thousand yuan a month.”

With such a crystal-clear explanation, what was left for Meng Qi *not* to understand? Everything clicked—his head buzzed, and he nearly exploded.

Of all things the housekeeper could have said, she’d chosen *that*: “the medicine was ineffective”—stabbing straight into Meng Qi’s heart! Each word drew blood, pushing him past his breaking point. Flustered and furious, he snapped back: “How could it be ineffective? Of course it worked! And don’t jump to conclusions just because you see donkey-hide gelatin or Chinese angelica! Who’s pregnant? Where’s the pregnant woman? It’s all in your head—stop talking nonsense!”

“This is just a standard qi-and-blood tonic—suitable for men, women, elders, children alike. It’s not *only* for… not *only* for…” Meng Qi choked, standing there fuming.

The housekeeper was visibly startled by his outburst. She rushed to reassure him: “Understood, Young Master—understood! Please calm down. I won’t gossip in front of Master or Madam.”

Clearly, she didn’t believe him.

Utterly frustrated, Meng Qi snatched his phone back and strode toward the bedroom. As he walked, he said, “Fine—don’t look at this prescription again. Pretend you never saw it. No one’s eating any of this. Just cook as usual from now on.”

His simple qi-and-blood tonic mistaken for a pregnancy diet—Meng Qi had never seen that coming. Had he known earlier, he’d have let the prescription rot in his phone!

Of course, he admitted he was overreacting. He shouldn’t have lost his temper and shouted at the elderly housekeeper the moment she uttered, “That medicine was ineffective—it’s for pregnant women.”

Yet those words—“that medicine was ineffective”—genuinely terrified him. If the medicine failed, he would die. Who wouldn’t be scared?

See? Running into Ren Suiyi *never* led to anything good—first thing in the morning, that damned text had ruined his entire day. So annoying!

Meng Qi trudged back to his bedroom, spirits low. The housekeeper stood behind him, nervously asking, “Young Master—what would you like for breakfast? Millet porridge with stir-fried lettuce and pork, plus garlic shrimp—okay?”

Not really in the mood to talk, Meng Qi still replied sullenly, “Whatever. You decide.”

He knew the housekeeper meant well—so he couldn’t keep taking his anger out on her for no reason. But neither would he bottle it up. He was saving it all—for the moment he next saw Ren Suiyi. Then he’d unleash it all at once!

*Provided he dared.*

Just as Meng Qi closed the bedroom door, the doorbell rang. He froze, listening intently to the sounds outside. Moments later, the housekeeper’s voice floated over: “Who are you looking for?”

A stranger—definitely not Kuang Hui, Dong Jiaming, or Ren Suiyi.

Meng Qi kept listening, trying to deduce who stood beyond the door.

The next second, a voice—familiar yet unplaceable—sounded: “Hello—I’m looking for Young Master Meng Qi.”

*Looking for me?*

The fear of the unknown in this world made Meng Qi hold his breath. He yanked too hard—and accidentally flung the door wide open. With no choice, he walked back into the living room, stood there, and immediately locked eyes with the person waiting at the entrance.

He remembered—this was Ren Suiyi’s driver, Gangzi. The same man who’d driven him back to school the night he first arrived here.

The moment Gangzi spotted Meng Qi, he called out cheerfully: “Good morning, Young Master Meng!”

“What are you doing here?” Meng Qi frowned instinctively. In his eyes, Gangzi was no different from Ren Suiyi—merely his mouthpiece. His visits *never* meant anything good.

Gangzi nodded slightly and replied, “Young Master Ren sent me to inform you: tomorrow evening, the Ren residence will host a welcome-home banquet for the eldest young master. You’re invited to attend.”

“A welcome banquet? Didn’t he return the day before yesterday? Why hold it tomorrow?”

“This was Young Master Ren’s idea. Since the eldest young master has finally returned home, he wants to seize this opportunity for everyone to gather and liven up the Ren household. Young Master Ren also said no one knows when the eldest young master will be back next time—so while this holiday is long, we should hold a banquet to let him enjoy himself.”

What a touching display of brotherly affection. But what did it have to do with *him*?

Meng Qi’s dark, lively eyes darted as he thought. He refused decisively: “I’m not going. I have plans tomorrow evening.”

Gangzi looked troubled. “Young Master Ren said if you don’t go, he’ll fire me. I’m responsible for delivering this message—if you decline, it means I’ve failed in my duty.”

Meng Qi: …

Author’s Note

Revised on July 5, 2024.