Jiang Xun was woken by the rattle of a meal cart's wheels in the corridor.
His arm had gone numb beneath him, and his neck was stiff. Raising his head hurt so much that he grimaced. His brain had yet to fully boot up, but his eyes had already swept toward the bed.
Only after seeing the person in the bed for himself did he breathe a sigh of relief, instinctively raising a hand to wipe the corner of his mouth.
No drool. Good. Image intact.
Jiang Xun straightened and stretched. He had only turned his neck halfway when he caught sight of someone still standing at the door.
"Why haven't you left yet?" His expression instantly chilled, and he rolled his eyes irritably. "There's no Michelin food here. Stick around and no one's feeding you."
Jiang Huaixiao stood in the doorway, his suit jacket draped over his forearm. His shirt cuffs were rolled up twice, revealing the Patek Philippe on his wrist. He looked utterly out of place in this hospital room.
He was also carrying an insulated bag containing crab roe soup dumplings and dried scallop congee packed to go from the county town's only five-star hotel.
But this was clearly not a good time to hand it over.
"It's time to go." Jiang Huaixiao set the insulated bag on the bedside cabinet, his tone still fairly steady. "Yan Chu has called over a dozen times. So has Dad. If we don't go back soon, everyone at home will be worried..."
"What home?"
Jiang Xun interrupted him, his lips curving into a beautiful yet searing smile. "I don't have a home. Have you got something wrong, President Jiang?"
Jiang Huaixiao's jaw tightened.
"Yan Chu's very worried about you." He tried another approach, softening his voice. "He called you