Chapter 17: Your Favorite Pan-Fried Dumplings

After Fu Shuhua and Liang Lei left, I lay alone on the hospital bed, staring at the pale ceiling. My heart felt like a spilled jar of mixed flavors—sour, bitter, spicy, salty—an overwhelming rush of emotions.

Though I was the victim, I was scolded with “Enough already,” a feeling as nauseating as swallowing a fly.

Soon after, the assistant brought a nutritious meal, emphasizing that it was a special order from Fu Shuhua himself.

I looked at the steaming porridge, completely devoid of appetite, and found it almost laughable.

I picked up the spoon and jabbed at the porridge fiercely, as if poking Fu Shuhua’s hypocritical face.

After a couple of pokes, my appetite didn’t return, so I put the spoon down again.

At that moment, the hospital room door opened.

Gu Yan entered, carrying a thermal container.

“Sweetheart, how are you feeling? Is there anywhere that still hurts?”

I shook my head, set aside the unappetizing porridge, and smiled warmly at Gu Yan.

“I’m fine now. Why are you here? Didn’t you say you couldn’t leave the company?”

His gaze flickered, seeming to avoid mine. After a moment, he said, “I made some soup for you.”

I couldn’t help but smile softly, touched by his thoughtful gesture.

Gu Yan placed the thermal container on the bedside table and opened it, releasing a rich aroma of meat.

“Smells so good!” My appetite suddenly returned. I took the ladle he handed me and drank deeply, burning my mouth slightly, to which Gu Yan chuckled.

“Oh, by the way, Tiantian, I’ve already arranged your next role. Once you finish here, you can join the filming crew.” While peeling an apple for me, he said this casually.

My eyes lit up instantly. “What kind of role?”

“I can’t tell you just yet. But here’s a little hint…” He leaned close and whispered.

“Really? Gu Yan, thank you so much!” The news revived my spirits.

Though not the best opportunity, it was far better than what I had now.

Grateful, I looked at him with newfound warmth. He simply smiled tenderly and stroked my head.

Just as we were happily chatting, the hospital room door opened again.

Fu Shuhua stood in the doorway, carrying a bag, his expression dark and menacing.

“Jiang Tian, what are you doing?”

His cold voice made me shiver. Gu Yan instinctively stood up, shielding me.

Still simmering with anger towards Fu Shuhua, I tugged Gu Yan’s sleeve, signaling that I was alright.

I spoke coldly, “Mr. Fu, why are you here again?” I emphasized the word “again” with deliberate distance and unfamiliarity.

Fu Shuhua said nothing. He walked straight to my bed and placed the bag on the bedside table with a thud.

“You favorite pan-fried dumplings,” he said.

I recognized the packaging instantly—it was from a shop I frequented, not anywhere close to here.

A flicker of suspicion stirred within me.

What was he playing at? Just moments ago, he was still protecting his fiancée, and now he was trying to win me over?

“I’ve already eaten. I’m not hungry.”

As I spoke, I noticed Fu Shuhua’s gaze linger on the small table beside the bed.

There lay the untouched porridge from the assistant and the soup from Gu Yan, still uncovered but emptied by me.

“Oh?” The man suddenly stretched the word out, raising an eyebrow as he looked at me. “Is it because someone else has already fed you?”

His words dripped with malice, causing me to furrow my brows and glare at him, lips pressed tightly together.