Her Cultivation Diary

F{h*F5// Vatient No. 42 asks_1

Imperial City Ren’ai Hospital.

Lun Jing, wearing a soft white woolen sweater and with a spring in her step, entered the inpatient department.

Unlike her usual worried expression, today she looked radiant with her long hair flowing loosely around her, beaming with joy and seeming very happy.

Even the sound of her voice seemed a pitch higher than usual, “Achuan! Let’s have dumplings for lunch!”

Lun Chuan put away his tablet and then looked up at her, “Why are you so happy?”

Lun Jing opened the thermal bag on the table and smiled back at him, “Am I?”

Lun Chuan: ….

If you hadn’t been smiling when you turned back, it wouldn’t be so obvious.

“Is it some bad luck with Zhou Yongzhi?”

Upon reflection, what else could make his mother so joyous at this time, if not the misfortune of her jerk of an ex-husband?

Lun Jing had already taken out two huge thermal containers, and as she began to remove the lids, she chided him,

“What are you talking about? He’s still your dad! Even if you’re waiting for his bad luck, what does that have to do with me? It’s bad luck.”

Then your unexplained joy…

Lun Chuan simply stopped asking.

Just then, Lun Jing handed him a heavy thermal container — truly a large one, filled to the brim with dumplings, at least thirty or fifty in count!

In a small compartment on the side, there was some vinegar, but not much.

At this moment, the fragrant aroma of the dumplings and the tart scent of the vinegar wafted over, and Lun Chuan couldn’t help swallowing his saliva, feeling his dormant appetite suddenly awakened.

“So many dumplings? Mom, shall we split—”

He was only halfway through his sentence when he saw Lun Jing sitting in front of the hospital bed, also opening a similar thermal container in her hands. The number of dumplings inside seemed barely less than his.

“Mom,” Lun Chuan hesitated, “isn’t this too many dumplings?”

However, no one responded to him anymore.

Lun Jing eagerly picked up a plump dumpling and stuffed it into her mouth.

After gobbling down three in quick succession, she finally remembered she had a son who was a patient and hurriedly looked up at him while nonchalantly urging,

“Hurry up and eat, come on, eat!”

Lun Chuan paused for a moment, then picked up his chopsticks too.

Having been in the hospital for a while, his appetite hadn’t been great, but the scent of the dumplings suddenly made his stomach growl.

Not until a dumpling entered his mouth, the indescribable fragrance of the dough and meat mingled, accompanied by the burst of savory juice in his mouth…

Lun Chuan slowly chewed the dumpling, swallowed it, and then without lifting his head, aimed for the next one.

This silent mukbang continued until halfway through, when the slightly ajar hospital room door was suddenly knocked open.

A middle-aged man in patient attire, with neat short hair and dark skin, stood outside the door. He was holding onto a crutch under one arm, his leg wrapped up so thoroughly it was completely covered.

Using the crutch, his serious eyes suddenly took on an embarrassed look, then he smiled awkwardly, “Uh… cough… I… you know… what are you guys eating?”

Lun Chuan met his gaze, having never experienced anything like this before, he was momentarily stunned.

Meanwhile, Lun Jing couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter, making the man standing outside, with his cheek flushed red, seem even more embarrassed.

She quickly tried to restrain her laughter, “Sorry, sorry— we’re having dumplings, shepherd’s purse with pork.”

Being closer, she clearly saw the man opposite gulp, then his ears also turned red:

“May I ask where you bought them?”

After he asked and saw Lun Jing staying silent, he hurriedly explained, “I live in the hospital room across from you. The smell was just too fragrant, getting stronger and stronger. I couldn’t resist… Sorry about that.”

To think a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties would run over and ask just because of a craving for a dumpling, it was indeed a bit embarrassing.

He turned around, intending to quickly escape this socially fatal hospital room.

Yet, seeing his reaction, Lun Jing felt awkward too—the dumplings really were delicious. She had overeaten just last night, and now that someone was asking, how could she make fun of him?

So she quickly called out, “Well… if you don’t mind, I have extra. Bring a bowl over and I’ll give you some.”

The man from the opposite room, limping on one leg, hastily went to get a bowl. It seemed that while he verbalized his reluctance, his heart couldn’t wait to taste them.

Meanwhile, Lun Chuan watched her separate half of the dumplings from her own lunch box, struggled to hold back, but finally couldn’t help himself:

“I can eat them.”

Lun Jing gave him a reproachful look: “I can eat them too! But last night, I stuffed myself until my stomach hurt, and I didn’t learn my lesson at noon. I cooked too many again…”

She tried to hide her reluctance, putting on an indifferent expression: “It’s just that someone likes them. It’s a good opportunity for me to control my appetite.”

“Right, Achuan, scoop out a few from your bowl too. When I made the dumplings, I only thought about letting you eat more, forgetting that your appetite hasn’t been great recently. Don’t overstuff your stomach.”

She took his lunchbox, leaving no room for refusal, and sighed:

“Do you think I’ve been in Imperial City for too long? Why do I find this hometown shepherd’s purse so delicious?”

“Hometown’s?”

Lun Chuan was surprised.

“Yes,” Lun Jing looked at him, “didn’t you leave our home address for that young lady last time? Last night, Wind Speed Express delivered ten pounds of wild vegetables from Ning Province, mostly shepherd’s purse.”

“When I saw how tender they were, I rushed to buy meat to make dumplings.”

She hadn’t expected them to be so delicious. Originally, she boiled ten dumplings to taste them as a midnight snack. But she ended up cooking pot after pot, eating ten after ten…

She gobbled down thirty dumplings and swallowed two digestives before finally managing to fall asleep after much tossing and turning at night.

But these details were not worth sharing with the kids. It was rather embarrassing.

Still, this was enough to astonish Lun Chuan.

He remembered the message he sent that day and the silence that followed on WeChat, and suddenly he found it amusing:

The girl didn’t speak half a lie, promising to send wild vegetables and she did.

This honesty was a relief to Lun Chuan—he really feared an over-the-top gratitude or thanks would come looking for repayment.

Therefore, he let go of any resistance he had within.

Then he continued to relish the remaining dumplings, feeling more confident that giving the address wasn’t a loss after all.

At this moment, the patient from the opposite room knocked on the door, a big man sheepishly handing over a lunchbox that almost made Lun Jing laugh out loud again.@@novelbin@@

She tried hard to hold back the laughter and started to fill the lunchbox with dumplings.

The patient at the door was both embarrassed and awkward, yet his stomach inconveniently grumbled loud enough for both mother and son in the room to turn and look.

The middle-aged man finally gave in completely: “Did you make these dumplings yourselves? Which brand are the vegetables and meat from? They taste really good! Just the smell alone, and my mouth is watering.”

Lun Jing handed the lunchbox back: “Yes, the pork is from the supermarket, black pork, but the shepherd’s purse was sent over by a girl from the countryside…”

She smiled awkwardly, obviously without intent to provide contact information for the ingredients.

The man from the opposite room paused, then seeming to remember something, quickly went over to the entrance and brought over two bags of fruit:

“Well… really sorry about that, thank you.”

After setting down the fruit by the door, he used his crutch to move quickly back into his own room, not giving them a chance to refuse.