Chapter 178 Looking Based on Lu Dog’s Standards

Chapter 178: Find One Like That Dog Lu

Shen Qingci listened to the whispers around him, all about Feng Yuetian and Chu Yinzhan.

The tone was off, and the things they said were pretty unpleasant.

His brow furrowed slightly as his gaze swept over the gossiping crowd. When their eyes met his, some lowered their heads, some looked away, and some pretended to take a sip from their glasses.

He withdrew his gaze and turned to look at Feng Yuetian. Feng seemed oblivious to the chatter, his eyes red and anxious, fixed on Shen Qingci's leg, as if he might cry.

Shen Qingci redirected his gaze to Chu Yinzhan.

"Mr. Chu."

His voice was very soft. He slipped off the jacket Chu had touched and let it drop to the floor with a dull thud.

He wore a white shirt tucked into his trousers, accentuating his trim waist with clean lines and perfect proportions. He clasped his hands in front of him, resting on his cane, standing straight and gazing down at Chu Yinzhan, exuding superiority.

"How old are you?"

Chu Yinzhan wanted to say "none of your damn business," but meeting those calm, indifferent, and aloof eyes, he inexplicably felt a pang of fear. The words came out differently than he intended.

"Twenty-three. Why?"

Hearing that, Shen Qingci glanced at Feng Yuetian. Feng, now thirty-two, was staring at Shen Qingci's leg with reddened eyes and a look of heartache, on the verge of tears.

Shen Qingci looked away and spoke calmly to Feng, who was still staring at him.

"Let's go. This person is too old and has no manners. He's not suitable for you."

He leaned on his cane and turned toward the door. After two steps, he stopped and tilted his head, his voice still cool.

"Find someone at least eleven years younger than you."

Feng Yuetian was stunned for a moment. He sniffled, watching Shen Qingci's retreating figure, and suddenly laughed. A tearful smile was much brighter than before.

"Really? Then you find one for me," he said, quickening his pace to catch up, a hint of defiance in his voice. "Find someone like that dog Lu."

The two left the banquet hall together.

Shen Qingci walked slowly, the tapping of his cane echoing through the empty corridor. Feng Yuetian followed beside him, matching his pace, afraid to touch him or rush him, just following close behind.

Behind them, the banquet hall came back to life with a buzz. The whispers surged like tides, then receded. Chu Yinzhan still stood there, half his face swollen, fists clenched, knuckles white.

When they reached the car, Shen Qingci opened the door and got in. Just as Feng Yuetian was about to follow, the door closed. He stood there frozen, watching the window roll down to reveal Shen Qingci's cool face.

"You take the other car."

Feng Yuetian opened his mouth, but seeing Shen Qingci's slightly pale lips, he closed it again. He nodded and turned toward the car behind.

The driver glanced in the rearview mirror at the back seat. Shen Qingci leaned against the seat, eyes slightly closed, long hair cascading over his shoulders, covering half his face.

His right hand rested on his right thigh, fingers slightly curled, neither clenched nor relaxed.

The driver withdrew his gaze and started the car smoothly.

Shen Qingci opened his eyes, watching the night scene racing past the window. Neon lights played across his face, flickering on and off, casting shifting shadows over his cool features.

The pain in his right leg persisted—dull, heavy, as if something were pressing down on his kneecap, sinking deeper with every inch. His fingers on his thigh tightened slightly.

It hurts so much...

He took out his phone and opened his chat with Lu Lin. His finger hovered over the screen for a long moment before he set the phone aside.

The car stopped at a red light. The driver lowered his head, fingers flying across his phone screen. He sent a message, then put the phone away. Looking up, his eyes met those of the cold-eyed man in the rearview mirror.

The driver's body stiffened, cold sweat trickling down his temple. He felt he should explain, but when he opened his mouth, he couldn't find the words.

The light turned green. He stepped on the gas, and the car moved smoothly through the intersection, but his heart pounded even faster than the car moved.

Shen Qingci looked away and stared out the window.

The city's nightscape flowed across the glass, neon lights smeared by rain into blurry patches of color.

His face reflected on the windowpane—expressionless, cool, and aloof.

The car passed two more intersections before pulling over.

The door was pulled open, and a chill rushed in. Lu Lin bent down and got in, bringing the cold of the night with him.

He wore a black coat, immaculately put together, but his hair was slightly tousled by the wind, a few strands stuck to his forehead.

Shen Qingci looked at his cold, hard face and said coolly, "Why are you here?"

Lu Lin didn't answer. He leaned down, his fingers gently but firmly lifting Shen Qingci's right pant leg.

The fabric was rolled up, revealing the pale skin from calf to knee.

On the outside of the knee, a large bruise had already swollen, the edges dark red, the center a blackish purple—a shocking sight under the warm car light.

Lu Lin's fingers hovered over the bruise without touching. His fingertips trembled slightly.

His eyes reddened instantly, the redness spreading from the corners. He pressed his lips together, grabbed the first-aid kit from the storage compartment, moving gently but with some urgency.

He found the ointment, twisted off the cap, squeezed some into his palm, and rubbed it between his hands—once, twice, until his palms were warm. Then he pressed his palm over the bruise and began to massage gently.

His movements were light and tender, his fingertips tracing the curve of the knee, shifting from light to firm, from shallow to deep, in circles, working the ointment into the skin.

Shen Qingci flinched in pain, pulling his leg back.

Lu Lin paused, then continued massaging, his technique even softer than before. But Shen Qingci could still feel the dull ache coming from deep inside his kneecap, wave after wave.

He looked down at Lu Lin. Those usually bright black eyes were red, tears brimming but stubbornly refusing to fall. His lashes trembled, and with each tremor, the tears in his eyes shimmered.

Shen Qingci spoke softly.

"I'm fine. It doesn't hurt."

Lu Lin still didn't answer. His hand continued to massage the bruise, his thumb tracing along the edges of the bruise, moving in circles with even pressure. He kept his head down, so Shen Qingci couldn't see his expression—only his lowered lashes, his slightly reddened nose, and his lips pressed into a straight line.

Seeing Lu Lin like this, Shen Qingci thought helplessly: *Still the same as when he was little—can't stand to see me hurt at all.*

After a long while, just when Shen Qingci thought Lu Lin would stay silent for the entire ride, he heard a tiny, quivering voice.

"Liar... Big Brother is the one who hates pain the most..."