DCTMOAS Chapter 35

“So confident?”

Yu Siting started the car and shut the passenger-side window from the main console, preventing the chilly night wind from hitting someone with a weak constitution.

Chu Cheng opened her eyes. “Right back at you. After all, Mr. Yu did claim to be the star teacher beloved by all parents.”

No matter the situation, her mouth never admitted defeat. Yu Siting didn’t argue, only said, “Fine. Then let’s send the handsome one home first.”

“I’m not in a rush,” Chu Cheng checked the time on her watch. “You should take Lu Yan to eat dinner first. If we wait any longer, he really won’t make it to evening study session.”

Yu Siting finally looked in the rearview mirror. “What do you want to eat?”

After a few seconds of thought, Lu Yan answered, “Grilled chicken patties from Yuhu Night Market.”

The man in the driver’s seat gave him a glance but didn’t say anything.

“Is that not okay?” Lu Yan asked with a confused look. “Isn’t it right on the way back?”

“You want someone on a strict diet to take you to a street food market? Does that sound reasonable?” Yu Siting kept his eyes on the road, his voice low and steady.

Lu Yan mimicked Chu Cheng’s tone from earlier and snapped back at his uncle, “Right back at you. Didn’t Mr. Yu just buy fruit for someone who’s supposed to be fasting?”

Yu Siting, used to his nephew’s occasional bursts of boldness, made a vague “Oh?” in response. His tone remained flat. “Then tell me—if I suddenly feel like smacking you right now, do you think that patient back there would be able to stop me?”
Hearing the two bicker over something that all started because of him, Chu Cheng felt the need to step in. “I don’t mind. I’ll just hitch a ride and stroll around a bit. I’ve been cooped up in the hospital for days—just being out for a drive makes me happy.”

Lu Yan instantly perked up. “Hear that? Teacher Chu wants to go too.”

Sure, just spoil him.

Yu Siting cast a look at Chu Cheng, then gave in to his nephew’s request, turning the steering wheel and heading onto the main road.

Lu Yan hadn’t been wrong—Yuhu Road was indeed close to the hospital, just a few blocks away.

It was the early evening, and the city was just beginning to glow under the neon lights. As the car drove along the straight avenue, shops lining both sides of the road lit up one after another, casting a warm and vibrant glow.

“So lively,” Chu Cheng said, pressing the window button again to enjoy the view. He asked curiously, “Is there some event going on around here?”

“Probably because today is Minor Snow—a few extra street stalls have popped up.” Yu Siting pulled over at a legal parking spot and let Lu Yan go buy his grilled chicken pie.

Since commuting across the city was usually inconvenient, Chu Cheng rarely came to this side of town. Naturally, his first visit to Yuhu Night Market made everything feel novel and exciting.

He opened the car door, stepped out, and took a few deep breaths of the cold night air before wandering off to explore the nearby stalls on his own.

Customs for seasonal solar terms varied across the country, but pickling vegetables and brewing wine during Minor Snow was a fairly common tradition. The night market alley was unusually bustling tonight, mostly thanks to the stalls selling warm wine from small tabletop stoves.

Laid out across the wooden tables were a variety of elegant containers—porcelain bottles of all shapes and sizes, each filled with fine winter brews waiting to be sold.

Qiulu Bai, Bamboo Leaf Green, October White… The names alone were intoxicating. These Minor Snow specialty wines had a clear color and sharp aroma, adding a poetic charm to the early winter season.

“They’re all available for tasting. Want to try some?” The vendor behind the long table noticed Chu Cheng’s interest and enthusiastically offered a sample cup.

Chu Cheng leaned down curiously and took a sniff. Every type of wine smelled amazing—it was hard to resist tasting them all.

Just as he lifted his head again, he happened to catch sight of the white SUV parked by the street. The window had been rolled down, and Yu Siting, sitting in the driver’s seat, had his arm propped lazily on the windowsill, looking completely relaxed as he took in the fresh air.

The man hadn’t even looked his way, and yet—just that half-profile silhouette radiated a kind of quiet menace.

“……”
Through the side mirror, Chu Cheng caught a glimpse of that sharply handsome profile. His fingers twitched, tempted to reach out, but in the end, he pulled back.

The vendor, unaware of the situation, pushed the tasting cup toward him again and offered kindly, “It’s okay, it’s on the house.”

“No, thank you. I can’t drink alcohol,” Chu Cheng smiled politely and declined the generous offer.

Having said that, he awkwardly backed away from the “scene of the crime” and moved to the next stall—only to be greeted by the sight of soft glutinous rice cakes, with red sugar, soybean flour, and oozing fillings of all kinds.

He couldn’t eat those either.

Everywhere he looked, the street was full of temptations. With no escape in sight, Chu Cheng finally returned to the car—out of sight, out of mind.

The patient with dietary restrictions returned defeated.

“I told you, you didn’t have to come just to keep him company.”
Hearing the dull sound of the car door closing, Yu Siting sighed as if he had expected this. “Feeling miserable now?”

“Well, I was already here anyway,” Chu Cheng replied in a low voice, clearly a little down.

An awkward air began to settle in the car. Fortunately, Yu Siting busied himself with his phone and didn’t say anything else.

A few minutes later, Lu Yan returned with his long-awaited grilled meat pie.

Yu Siting closed the car window and reminded him, “Don’t eat that in the car. You’ll get crumbs everywhere.”

“I know,” Lu Yan answered a bit perfunctorily, then eagerly leaned over to the front seat and stretched out his arm with something in his hand. “Here, Teacher Chu, for you.”

He was holding a small, sugar-coated snowflake candy.

“For me?” Chu Cheng rarely ate sweets, but the candy was so delicately made that he couldn’t help but feel pleasantly surprised as he accepted it.

Lu Yan shot back, “Didn’t you ask for it?”

Your teacher just texted me about it.

Chu Cheng: “Huh?”

I didn’t even know someone was selling these…

For a moment, both of them looked at each other, thoroughly confused.

“All happy now? Can we leave?”
Yu Siting smiled calmly, like someone hiding a secret, then started the engine and pulled back onto the brightly lit road.

So this was my… “consolation prize”?

By the time Chu Cheng figured it out, the car’s GPS had already lit up with a new navigation route—destination: Yuncheng Homestead.

Yu Siting didn’t speak again, but his driving was smooth and steady, the kind that made you feel safe.

Inside the car, dimly lit by the city’s flickering lights, Chu Cheng sat quietly, delicately holding the little wintry snowflake candy. It looked so clear and crystal-like that, when no one was looking, he couldn’t help but sneak a quick lick.

After picking up a new skill from his young ward roommate, Chu Cheng spent the next two days getting IV drips at the hospital by day and sneaking home by night.

On the sixth afternoon after his gastroscopy, he finally finished his last bottle of medication as an inpatient.

A nurse walked out with a medical tray, brushing past a food delivery guy who knocked lightly on the door of Room C3: “Mr. Chu, hello—your soup for today. I’ve placed it on the cabinet.”

After three consecutive days of deliveries, the courier had clearly become familiar with the routine.

“Alright, thank you.”
Chu Cheng let go of the gauze pad pressed against his hand, opened the food bag, and peeked inside.

Today’s soup was astragalus black chicken broth, just like before—low in oil and salt, enhanced with herbs like Solomon’s seal, red dates, and Ophiopogon root. It carried a faint medicinal fragrance.

Creak—

The bathroom door in the room opened. His roommate walked out looking completely done with life.

He collapsed onto his bed, but still sniffed the air with a sharp nose: “Why does it smell like chicken soup?”

“Yeah. Want a bowl?” Chu Cheng offered.

The younger patient didn’t refuse. As he got up, he asked, “Another one of your teacher friends sent it? He kept having people deliver soup, but I haven’t seen him come by lately.”

Chu Cheng ladled some soup into a bowl and handed it over. “He’s got work. Teaching classes and managing students keeps him way too busy. The soup’s from his family’s nutritionist—figured I could try some while they were at it.”

The teenage patient at the next bed took the bowl, sniffed it, catching a faint hint of sweet codonopsis root. He took a small sip and offered a rather objective review: “The ingredients are solid, but the taste is pretty mid. How much do they pay that nutritionist?”

“How would I know?” Chu Cheng tasted it too. He thought it was fine—probably just light on seasoning.

As they quietly drank, the sound of steady, composed footsteps echoed from the hallway. Jin Dong entered holding a thick stack of payment slips and announced, “All the discharge paperwork is done.”

The teenager looked up in surprise. “You’re checking out today?”

“Yep,” Chu Cheng nodded, smiling as he began to pack his things. “You’re getting the room to yourself again. Happy?”

“I don’t even know how to express how I feel.” The boy gave a dry, fake smile as if life were a joke. But then he added, “Not that it matters anyway. Discharge means school’s next. Either way, it’s still prison.”

Chu Cheng pulled a LEGO box from beside his bed and handed it over. His tone was gentle, even encouraging. “Still, being healthy is better, right? Here’s a little gift before I go. Wishing you a speedy recovery.”

“Whoa, you managed to get this one?” The boy’s eyes lit up at the sight of the toy. All his gloom seemed to evaporate as he leaned in for a closer look. “This set’s super hyped and expensive right now!”

“It’s yours,” Chu Cheng smiled, slung his backpack over one shoulder, and ruffled the kid’s hair on his way out. “You’re still young—don’t say such gloomy stuff. Take good care of yourself. I’m off.”

He claimed to be a LEGO instructor, but the way he nagged made him sound like a part-time homeroom teacher.

“Got it~” the boy drawled, waving as he watched Chu Cheng’s figure disappear.

It wasn’t until they left the inpatient ward and reached the parking lot that Jin Dong, who hadn’t said a word for half the day, finally glanced at his nephew, his expression demanding an explanation. “So you had me send three assistants, across time zones, to camp online auctions for this? And it turns out… it was for someone else?”

A brilliant smile spread across Chu Cheng’s face. “He’s just a kid. Been in the hospital so long and no one’s come to see him. Plus, he’s been keeping me company these past few days. Since I’m getting discharged, cheering him up a little is the least I can do.”

His uncle shot him a sideways glance, voice laced with sarcasm. “You won’t even spend your own salary to buy yourself anything nice, but you can hand over a LEGO set worth a few thousand dollars like it’s nothing?”

“Haven’t you heard what a famous person once said?” Chu Cheng straightened up, abandoning his playful tone and gripping the car door with mock seriousness. “A clever bandit never robs a poor high school Chinese teacher on the street. Instead, he kidnaps him and calls his rich uncle for ransom.”

Jin Dong was unmoved. He stared at him blankly. “Let me guess—this so-called ‘famous person’ and the ‘bandit’ both happen to be surnamed Chu, right?”

Chu Cheng squinted one eye and gave a thumbs-up in approval. The next second, he was shoved into the car by the back of his neck.