Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The old master was rushed directly into the emergency room. Aside from a few words of comfort from the household staff, telling him not to be afraid and that he would be saved, almost no one spoke to him. Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but let his thoughts run wild.

They say there’s a final burst of energy before death—was the old master’s sudden improvement today because of that?

If the old master passed away like this, Jiang Cheng would be consumed by guilt and regret for a long time. After all, this episode was triggered by the grass-woven bird he had given him. The incident weighed on his heart like a stone, making him feel he had made a mistake.

Soon, Chen Pingzhou and the others arrived. He directly asked the caregiver about what had happened, and after learning the details, he waited anxiously outside.

Jiang Cheng’s only familiar face here was Chen Pingzhou. Seeing him arrive, he walked over, hoping to hear something from him. But Chen Pingzhou clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk. He waved him off and said, “Let me have some quiet.”

The old master had long since drafted his will, but no one knew what it contained. Since Jiang Cheng arrived, the old master hadn’t changed it.

What Chen Pingzhou feared most was the old master dying now, leaving him with nothing. If that happened, all his recent efforts would be in vain, and he would have offended Shang Zenian for nothing.

He desperately hoped the old master would live a little longer. His mind was entirely focused on the old master—how could he have time for Jiang Cheng?

Time ticked by, second by second. The light in the emergency room remained on, and the nurse came out several times to deliver critical condition notices.

Every time the door opened and closed, it felt like a heavy hammer striking everyone’s chests. Their faces were all pale.

An overwhelming wave of sorrow surged up, clogging Jiang Cheng’s chest until it was hard to breathe, each inhale carrying a hint of bitterness.

At that moment, he suddenly missed his grandmother terribly. He wanted to call her, talk to her, and draw a little warmth from her. Jiang Cheng’s fingers turned white as he gripped his phone, taking a deep breath to suppress that impulse.

The rescue still showed no results, and many people had arrived one after another, all unfamiliar faces.

Once again, the sound of leather shoes tapping against the floor echoed down the corridor. It was a workday, so everyone had come from their jobs, mostly in suits.

Then, as if sensing something, Jiang Cheng, lost in confusion and anxiety, looked up and met Shang Zenian’s gaze, which was also fixed on him.

Unlike the cold indifference of others, that gaze was the only one that held him in it. It made Jiang Cheng, who had felt completely out of place in these surroundings, feel as though his drifting heart had suddenly found a place to land.

Shang Zenian strode toward him. The others were stunned for a moment when they saw him, probably not expecting his arrival. They quickly composed their expressions, about to greet him, but Shang Zenian raised a hand to stop them.

“Just came to check in. Don’t mind me.”

As he spoke, he had already reached Jiang Cheng. He leaned down slightly, his tall figure casting a shadow, and asked in a low voice, “Are you okay?”

Jiang Cheng shook his head.

Seeing his distressed expression, Shang Zenian assumed he was worried about the old master and comforted him: “Don’t be afraid. The old master will be fine.”

Jiang Cheng took out his phone and typed: “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t made that grass-woven bird for Grandpa, causing him to get too excited and cough up blood, none of this would have happened. It’s all my fault.”

Shang Zenian didn’t know the full story, but he could infer the situation from that message.

No wonder his eyes had been so helpless and guilt-ridden just now.

“Did they blame you?” Shang Zenian’s voice was a bit heavy.

Jiang Cheng quickly shook his head and typed: “No one blamed me. I just can’t get over it. I only wanted to make Grandpa happy. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s not your fault,” Shang Zenian said soothingly in a low voice. “The old master’s health has been on its last legs for a while. There was always a risk of a flare-up. It just happened to happen when you were around. Don’t take the blame onto yourself.”

Jiang Cheng knew rationally that it wasn’t really his fault, but the oppressive, gloomy atmosphere just now, along with the anxiety of being ignored by everyone, had made him overthink.

After all, in this family, he was truly an outsider.

Seeing that Jiang Cheng was still frowning, Shang Zenian pulled a piece of candy from his suit pocket. He peeled off the wrapper and held it out to Jiang Cheng.

“Open your mouth.”

Jiang Cheng instinctively opened his mouth, and the candy was popped in. A light sweetness melted on his tongue, washing away the bitterness in his mouth. Jiang Cheng held the candy, feeling that the heavy guilt and helplessness that had been suffocating him slowly dissolve, just like the candy.

“Thank you,” he typed.

Shang Zenian put the wrapper away and pointed to the VIP sofa nearby. “Sit there and wait. Don’t overthink it. I’ll stay with you.”

Time ticked by. About half an hour later, the emergency room door opened again. This time, it wasn’t a nurse with another critical condition notice, but a doctor.

The crowd hurried over. The doctor made a calming gesture, pulled down his mask, and revealed a weary face. “The patient has been temporarily stabilized. He will be transferred to the ICU for observation overnight. If he makes it through peacefully, he’ll be out of danger.”

As he finished speaking, some let out a long breath, their suspended hearts finally settling a little. Others wore ambiguous expressions, each calculating their own interests.

Jiang Cheng also breathed a sigh of relief. Good—the old master was okay.

After the old master was moved to the ICU, no one else was allowed to visit, and they gradually left. Some wanted to strike up a conversation with Shang Zenian, but seeing his indifferent, uninterested expression, they wisely refrained from bothering him.

Chen Pingzhou’s face had relaxed considerably. He wiped his face with his hand, walked over, and greeted Shang Zenian with a smile.

“Master Shang, I was so worried about my father-in-law earlier that I neglected Yin-yin. Thank you for staying with her and taking care of her.”

Chen Pingzhou’s care for Chen Yin, his niece who had been lost for over a decade, was clearly more driven by interest than affection.

If not for Shang Zenian being here today, Chen Yin would have been consumed by guilt and distress.

So Shang Zenian said coldly, “Mr. Chen, your filial piety is clear. It seems you have no time to look after your niece. I’ll take her with me.”

Chen Pingzhou put on a flattering smile: “It’s getting late. I’ve booked a table at a nearby restaurant. If Master Shang doesn’t mind, why not join us for a meal? Let me express my gratitude.”

As he spoke, he discreetly glanced at Jiang Cheng, hoping he would help persuade Shang Zenian.

But Jiang Cheng wasn’t willing. After all, that wasn’t part of his obligations. So he put on an innocent, clueless expression, pretending not to understand.

Chen Pingzhou cursed the blockhead under his breath, but there was nothing he could do.

“Thanks, but no need,” Shang Zenian said, not too coldly out of respect for Chen Yin. He lowered his voice to Jiang Cheng, “Come on, let me take you to change clothes first.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t understand why he needed to change clothes. Following Shang Zenian’s gaze, he looked down and realized there were spots of blood on his skirt, probably splattered during the chaos when the old master coughed up blood.

His skirt today was a light color, so the stains were quite noticeable. Blood on a girl’s skirt could easily lead to misunderstandings. Shang Zenian planned to take her to a nearby mall to buy clean clothes before having dinner.

Chen Pingzhou only then noticed the blood on Jiang Cheng’s skirt. It wasn’t very obvious, and it was likely only Shang Zenian who had noticed. This showed how much he really cared about Jiang Cheng.

Chen Pingzhou didn’t dare to force his way into their private time. He quickly went along with the flow and said, “Then you two go ahead. Don’t worry about your grandfather. He’ll be fine.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t refuse. Silently, he followed Shang Zenian out of the hospital.

Across from the hospital was a mall. Shang Zenian glanced briefly at the dazzling array of women’s clothing stores and, spotting a brand he recognized, led Jiang Cheng inside.

“Welcome!” the sales assistant greeted them warmly. “These are our latest arrivals. Feel free to try anything you like.”

It was Shang Zenian’s first time ever dealing with women’s clothing. He was completely clueless. He looked down at Jiang Cheng and asked, “See anything you like?”

What he didn’t know was that Jiang Cheng was equally dumbfounded.

Because Jiang Cheng’s height was taller than the average girl’s, his clothes had been pre-ordered by Chen Pingzhou’s wife based on his measurements, neatly arranged in his wardrobe. He didn’t need to think—just grab and wear whatever was there, and it would surely fit.

Now that he had to pick, he didn't have a clue either.

He glanced at the array of women's dresses, looking just as clueless.

Thankfully, the saleswoman had a keen eye and immediately noticed his predicament. She asked enthusiastically, "Is this young lady looking for clothes? Would you like me to suggest something?"

Jiang Cheng nodded immediately.

The saleswoman sized him up and said, "Miss, you're quite tall. How about trying this dress? It'll definitely look good."

She pulled out a cream-colored dress with a cinched waist and a fluffy skirt from a pile of clothes. Shang Zenian saw the color and was reminded of the long-haired girl in a white dress from their first meeting, who had said to him, "Go try it on."

Jiang Cheng had grown used to wearing dresses by now. Under Shang Zenian's encouraging gaze, he took the dress and went into the fitting room.

Three minutes later, Jiang Cheng came out, a bit flustered.

Unlike the longer dresses Mrs. Chen had arranged for him—mostly knee-length—this one was short. On his 176 cm frame, it left a good portion of his thighs exposed. The airy tulle and organza ruffled hem made him feel the same discomfort as when he wasn't wearing pants.

"Wow, so beautiful! When you came out just now, it felt like a princess had just made an entrance, you know?" The saleswoman laid on the compliments thick. "Especially your legs—so white, so long, so straight! You could be a leg model! Absolutely stunning. Don't you agree, sir?"

The saleswoman looked at Shang Zenian.

Shang Zenian's gaze had been fixed on Jiang Cheng the moment he came out.

The dress was cinched at the waist, the sash-like tie fit perfectly at the narrowest part of his waist, outlining a slender, tight line that seemed as if it could be held in one hand.

Below that, the short fluffy tulle skirt barely covered just below his upper thighs, leaving most of his straight legs exposed. His skin looked fair and dazzling against the cream-colored fabric, impossible to look away.

His eyes darkened.

Jiang Cheng felt extremely uncomfortable under that gaze. Now that he knew Shang Zenian had feelings for him, that look was... too much. Straight guy Jiang Cheng couldn't handle it, so he quickly pulled out his phone and typed: "Just this one?"

"This one isn't suitable. Get another," Shang Zenian said instead.

Jiang Cheng blinked and glanced at the mirror nearby. He thought it looked pretty good.

Sure, it was a bit short, but it was pretty nice.

The saleswoman was also confused. Wasn't it super gorgeous and perfect? If they used him as a model for this dress, pre-orders for this dress would be sold out through next year, right?

She asked cautiously, "What do you think isn't suitable?"

Shang Zenian: "The skirt is too short."

Saleswoman: "..."

Didn't realize you were such a prude.

But considering this beautiful woman was probably his girlfriend, she understood. Men have that flaw—they want to hide their gorgeous partner away and enjoy her alone, unwilling to let anyone else see her.

"Then should I pick a longer one?"

Before Shang Zenian could speak, an electronic female voice from the app said, "No need, just this one."

It was Jiang Cheng using an app. Facing Shang Zenian's gaze, he pretended to be shy and typed: "I like short ones. They're cooler to wear, haha."

—In truth, since he, as a guy, had tried on a woman's dress, he felt it wouldn't be right to let other female customers try it on or buy it after he'd worn it. So unless the dress was ugly beyond belief, he would buy it.

Besides, he was a man. If it was short, so what? Even if it felt a bit drafty and weird, it didn't matter as long as it didn't expose his gender.

Shang Zenian laughed in exasperation.

So you like wearing short stuff, huh.

Author's note:

----------------------