Chapter 180

Chapter 180

◎A Warm and Bittersweet Dream◎

Whether it was Young Master Meng's words that did the trick or the gall of the Huarui Snake, Li Qingjiang's recovery was as fast as a rocket. Initially, it was estimated he’d have a fever for a day and a night, and the wound would hurt for two or three days. But by the evening of the same day his fever had broken, and by the next morning the wound stopped hurting. Walking a few steps barely affected him.

When Yang Jiangmi came to visit Li Qingjiang carrying a smoked pork hind leg, Li Qingjiang was slowly pacing around the room doing rehab on his right leg, which had been bitten by the Huarui Snake. Meng Qi had taken over his bed like a usurper, half-lying and drowsy. Ren Suiyi sat by the bed trimming Meng Qi's nails. The bean bag chair was occupied by Qu Liang. Liang Wenkai and Zhao Zheyuan weren't there—they were with Elder Gu in the kitchen preparing lunch for everyone.

"Teacher Li, my grandpa told me to give you this pork leg. He said like cures like—after eating this leg, your leg will heal." Yang Jiangmi set the plump pork hind leg against the edge of the desk, then flicked her ponytail and turned to run off.

Meng Qi struggled to open his blurry eyes and called out to her, "Little Jiangmi, take the pork leg back to your grandpa. Tell him Doctor Li's leg can heal without him eating that pork leg—it's already more than halfway healed. See for yourself if you don't believe me."

"I'm not taking it. It's too heavy—it hurts my hand to carry it." Yang Jiangmi half-turned to say to Meng Qi, poised to flee at any moment.

Meng Qi wanted to persuade her further, but Qu Liang waved at Yang Jiangmi and said, "Go to class, little Jiangmi. Nothing for you here."

Yang Jiangmi chirped, then turned and ran off faster than a rabbit, probably afraid Qu Liang might change his mind and make her carry that huge pork leg back home herself.

In the blink of an eye, Li Qingjiang had already paced from one end of the room to the desk. He hefted the pork leg and let out a "Hey," completely stunned. "Sunflower Primary School really is a place full of hidden talents. This leg must weigh at least ten pounds. And Yang Jiangmi not only carried it but also walked such a long mountain path with it! She’s got super strength naturally."

"Naturally super strong? No need to guess—it was her grandpa who carried it here, then handed it to her at the school gate," Qu Liang revealed the truth, then muttered with confusion, "Her family is weird too. All the adults are like clams—they blush when they see people and can't say a word for ages. But Yang Jiangmi is as mischievous as a little sparrow, loves to chat with anyone."

By now, Li Qingjiang had wiped the stunned look off his face and put on an awkward grin, asking everyone, "Hey, tell me—did the fever fry my brain? I couldn't figure out something so simple?"

Beneath his eyelids, Meng Qi's eyes moved slightly, as if he wanted to joke with Li Qingjiang but couldn't fight off the drowsiness.

At this moment, after trimming the nails on one hand, Ren Suiyi leaned over and said to Meng Qi, "Give me the other hand."

Meng Qi stuffed the freshly trimmed hand between his pillow and neck, then pulled the other hand out from between his neck and pillow and handed it to Ren Suiyi, eyes closed the whole time, looking completely trusting.

"Cold?" Ren Suiyi noticed Meng Qi repeatedly tucking his hand into the gap between his neck and pillow, and thought he might be cold, and glanced at the air conditioner's temperature display: currently 24°C. That temperature was fine, very close to spring's natural temperature.

Meng Qi shook his head slightly and said, "Not cold. It's comfortable this way."

Ren Suiyi immediately dismissed the idea of adjusting the temperature and kept his head down to trim Meng Qi's nails.

Their conversation and movements were casual and gentle, creating a world of their own.

Qu Liang shifted his gaze away from them, turned to tease Li Qingjiang, and said, "Divine doctor, what's your bank card PIN?"

"Why are you asking?" Li Qingjiang responded warily.

Qu Liang shrugged. "See, you're not stupid—you know not to reveal your bank card PIN."

But the next second, Li Qingjiang clearly and accurately recited six numbers, instantly proving Qu Liang wrong, then with an extremely serious expression said to him, "That's the password for all my bank cards. If one day I accidentally get poisoned or fall to my death, remember to donate my money to charity."

Qu Liang: ...

Meng Qi, amused by how unpredictable Li Qingjiang was, chuckled softly with his eyes closed, his drowsiness half gone. He opened his eyes, glanced at Li Qingjiang, then smiled and asked Qu Liang, "Why didn't you let Yang Jiangmi take the pork leg away? That must be her family's saved-up New Year's supplies. Who knows how long they've been saving to get that one leg—we can't accept it."

Just after being left speechless by Li Qingjiang, Qu Liang sighed helplessly at Meng Qi again. "You've gone stupid too, Teacher Meng? This pork leg is almost taller than Yang Jiangmi. How could she carry it home alone? Of course, we have to return it to her family ourselves. And while we're at it, we should explain the divine doctor's situation to everyone in the village. Otherwise, by tomorrow at the latest, Sunflower Primary School will be renamed 'Sunflower Grocery.'"

That's right. The nearby villagers were all so down-to-earth, warm, and grateful. Usually on ordinary days, they'd often bring good things they couldn't bear to eat themselves to Sunflower Primary School. Now that their beloved divine doctor Li Qingjiang was injured, of course they'd come bearing gifts. Yang Jiangmi's grandpa had taken the lead and also opened the floodgates. It wouldn't even make it to tomorrow—it'd be renamed before noon today.

Meng Qi's belated realization hit him, and his drowsiness vanished completely. He shot up from the bed and urged Qu Liang impatiently, "I was really stupid from lack of sleep... So what are we waiting for? Let's head out now. Maybe we can intercept some people on the way."

"Brother Yuan and I will go. You guys—one, hmm, one, hmm, one, hmm—just stay here and hold the fort." Qu Liang said as he jumped up from the bean bag chair, then yelled toward the kitchen through the glass, "Brother Yuan! Brother Yuan! You still busy? Can you come out with me?"

Meng Qi was about to ask Qu Liang what he was hmm-ing about when Zhao Zheyuan's loud response came from the kitchen: "What's up? I'm marinating meat."

Then Zhao Zheyuan emerged from the kitchen, holding up two greasy hands, followed by Liang Wenkai, whose hands were covered in flour.

Qu Liang hefted the smoked pork hind leg that Yang Jiangmi had brought and explained to Zhao Zheyuan and Liang Wenkai, "A villager brought gifts to visit the divine doctor. But Sunflower School rules say we can't accept even a single scallion or piece of meat from parents. So we need to return this to the villagers and also update them on the divine doctor's condition to discourage them from bringing gifts."

Zhao Zheyuan glanced back and said, "Principal Liang, you go with Liangzi. It'll give you a chance to adapt to your new role before the interview comes out."

Liang Wenkai nodded readily. "Alright, I'll go. The rest of the dough is up to you."

Zhao Zheyuan was about to nod when Qu Liang said, "You're injured—why are you butting in?"

Obviously, Zhao Zheyuan had forgotten that Liang Wenkai was also injured. Reminded by Qu Liang, he quickly changed his mind. "Then I'll go instead. Seeing how quickly you were working earlier, I forgot you were injured."

Liang Wenkai elbowed Zhao Zheyuan back into the kitchen, craning his neck to show the bite mark on his shoulder. "You stay. Liangzi and I will go. See, the wound has already scabbed over. And honestly, it only hurt for a second when Young Master Ren sterilized it with liquor. Otherwise, it barely bothers me—not even as painful as when I had my tattoos removed."

Qu Liang then said, "Alright, you and I will go. Boldly take your first step in your new anti-corruption campaign."

"You jerk..." Liang Wenkai laughed and flicked a handful of flour at Qu Liang. Before the snow-like dust could settle, he hurried to the sink to wash his hands.

Shortly after Qu Liang and Liang Wenkai left, Meng Qi and Ren Suiyi also departed from Li Qingjiang's room. Meng Qi was too tired—he wanted to go back to his own room for a real good sleep.

Then, next to his loved one and lying on the warm, comfortable wooden bed, Meng Qi, for the first time since arriving here, dreamed of both his grandpa and grandma.

In his dream, the two elders looked much more spirited than when he had left them. They were in a clean, semi-open kitchen with very modern cooking equipment, busy preparing food. Occasionally, they chatted and laughed while working—a particularly warm scene. It was almost identical to the picture Meng Qi had imagined before: after graduating from college, he would use his earnings to buy a big house and bring his grandparents to live with him. Except in his imagination, he would be part of the cooking process, not just standing around doing nothing.

And the "Meng Qi" in the book, whom he called a "slacker," was sitting at the dining table outside, typing away furiously on a laptop. He was too far away to see what that "Meng Qi" was busy with.

But Meng Qi wasn't interested in what the book version of himself was doing. After a quick glance, he ran into the kitchen to his grandparents, hugging one, leaning against the other, overjoyed.

Even though his grandparents couldn't sense him, he felt incredibly happy in that moment.

Suddenly, his grandma seemed to sense something and glanced in his direction twice. She paused her movements and asked his grandpa, "Do you feel a warmth on the back of your neck, like when our grandson used to hug us from behind when he was fooling around?"

"You feel it too? I thought it was just me," his grandpa also looked in his direction, blinked a couple of times, and sighed, "Ever since our grandson started college, he's become distant with us. He barely talks anymore. Do you think he might have encountered something?"

His grandma asked anxiously, "Encountered what? It's just us here. Just say it straight—don't scare me."

So his grandpa leaned in and whispered, "Something called school bullying. They say a group of bad students pick on the soft-tempered kids from poor families. Do you think our grandson..."

What he wasn't saying was obvious.

Meng Qi scratched his earlobe and thought: Probably only Young Master Meng bullies others, not the other way around. Grandparents' worry is a bit unnecessary.

Sure enough, his grandma let out a relieved sigh, waved her hand, and said, "No, that's not it. I specifically asked Xiaoyuan and Congcong. They both said our grandson is very popular at school—people line up to be his friend—the line stretches all the way to France."

"When did you ask? How come I didn't know?" His grandpa looked blankly at his grandma.

Meng Qi also looked at his grandma.

A gleam of joy appeared in the old lady's eyes. "It was on New Year's Day. Xiaoyuan and Congcong came to the house to play with our grandson. At the time, our grandson had gone to the mall to buy things, and you had gone to the market to buy groceries. So I pulled them aside and asked."

"Why didn't you tell me then? You made me worry for so long..." His grandpa complained.

His grandma smiled and explained, "Oh, it's just that as soon as our grandson came back, he dragged me to try on new clothes. I was so happy I forgot."

...

At the mention of new clothes, Meng Qi began to seriously observe his grandparents now:

Their hair had been dyed—the formerly gray hair now shiny black, instantly making them look more than ten years younger.

From head to toe, everything was replaced with new clothes, all in bright and vivid colors, no longer the dull mix of black, white, and gray—it made them look way more energetic.

A golden earring dangled from Grandma’s earlobe, swaying with her every movement, so pretty and lively.

Three gleaming gold false teeth were set in Grandpa’s mouth; when he laughed, he opened his mouth wide, confident and cheerful, no longer the little old man who used to be too embarrassed to laugh heartily because of three black cavities.

It seemed that without him around, his grandparents were happier and more joyful. If he hadn’t left, his grandparents wouldn’t have been able to live this well so soon—they’d have had to endure at least two more years of hardship with him.

The regret in his heart was instantly replaced by the warmth before him. Meng Qi smiled, stepped forward to hug his grandmother, and pressed his cheek against his grandfather’s. When he opened his eyes, the dream vanished at the same time, and he was back in the book world.

He instinctively looked to the side. Ren Suiyi, who had been napping with him, was no longer in bed. He then turned toward the glass window, where Ren Suiyi, who was on the phone, seemed to sense something and looked back. Their eyes met across the clear glass.

This book world was also warm, Meng Qi thought, unable to resist the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile at Ren Suiyi.

Ren Suiyi smiled back at Meng Qi, then quickly said something into the phone. He cupped the mouthpiece and walked in, bent down to press a kiss on Meng Qi’s forehead, and continued, still cupping the mouthpiece, “It’s Aunt Jia Qing. She’s very worried about you.”

Jia Qing—a familiar yet unfamiliar name. She was Meng Qi’s biological mother in the book.

Meng Qi uttered a dismissive “Oh” and couldn’t be bothered.

Ren Suiyi continued, “She guessed you were with me and wants to say a word to you. Do you want to?”

Let alone the fact that he wasn’t the “Meng Qi” from the book—having no familial bond or blood relation with Jia Qing, there was nothing to say. Even if he were the book’s “Meng Qi,” facing the mother who had abandoned him long ago, what else could he say but vent his anger and complain?

Meng Qi shook his head. “I don’t want to.”

“Alright, I’ll tell her.” Ren Suiyi helped smooth Meng Qi’s hair and was about to turn and go out to convey this result to Jia Qing.

But the moment his hand left the phone receiver, Meng Qi didn’t notice, and he also said “Okay” without thinking.

Immediately, a sobbing voice came from the other end of the line: “Is that Meng Qi? Son, it’s your mom, it’s your mom. Talk to me, won’t you? Just let me hear your voice?”

“Author’s note”

After ages of no movement, my follower count actually went up by one (another one today). I was shocked when I saw it—never thought someone would pay attention to someone like me with such poor results.

Thank you.

Then, on the evening of February 7, 2026, at around nine o’clock, our “Rage Reform” surpassed a thousand nutrient fluids—exactly 1004.

In the vast ocean of Jinjiang, this small milestone is truly a historical moment for me. It feels the same as when I received a shallow-water bomb (a type of gift on Jinjiang) while writing “Wangyang Mountain”—that sense of redemption, like seeing light after walking in the dark for so long. After enduring so long, after feeling so emo, this tattered child finally got the candy he had been envying for so long. It’s sweet from head to toe, sweetness seeping into every strand of my hair.

But two years have passed, and “Wangyang Mountain” remains a mountain only a few appreciate. I suspect “Rage Reform” will share the same fate. Conclusion: I’m probably not cut out for writing, can’t make a living from literary creation.

At this moment of realization, my heart broke into a million pieces. [Lying flat]

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Five thousand words omitted above.

Also named “A Rambling Triggered by One Follower (or ‘One Follower Rant’),” recorded here as some of my thoughts and feelings during the writing process, to look back on in a few years ([Lying flat] maybe I’ll delete it tomorrow when the excitement wears off).