Chapter 84: “Wife, Don’t Make a Scene, There Are So Many People Here”

Xia Sili glanced to the side and realized there was no proper place to hold onto.

Her calm, fair face tightened slightly at the corners of her lips as she reached out and grasped the fabric at his waist.

Just then, the vehicle jolted, and the man quickly grabbed her hand.

She stumbled forward, almost falling against him, but immediately steadied herself with his help. She looked up at him in silence, her gaze fleeting.

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows and lips curved into a barely perceptible smile.

His hand held hers firmly, placing it below and gripping it tightly, not letting go.

In the chilly weather, Xia Sili’s hand was a little cold, but his firm and steady grasp radiated a soothing warmth.

There was no way she could pull free.

Every time Jiang Cheng held her hand, Xia Sili felt like a tiny chick caught in his palm—tightly gripped, unable to escape.

His rough, calloused hands carried an overwhelming heat, their strength leaving no room for rejection.

After a long moment, she glanced to the left, seemingly casually, to ensure no one was paying attention. Then, with her face slightly flushed, she shook his hand quickly under the cover of her coat and said in a hushed tone, “Let go, we’re about to get off.”

The man, still holding her hand, shook it back and even took it a step further, giving her palm a mischievous squeeze. In the crowded bus, he acted as if he hadn’t heard her, leaning down with his tall frame to speak close to her ear.

“Huh? Pear, what did you say?”

“I said you’ve gotten bold!” Xia Sili gritted her teeth and pinched his waist hard with her other hand, which was still gripping his coat.

Jiang Cheng’s expression shifted instantly, his eyes flashing with a strange light.

He gave a low cough and muttered, “…Wife, don’t make a scene; there are so many people here.”

Xia Sili: “…”

This guy had mastered the art of playing the victim flawlessly.

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When they arrived at the county hospital’s entrance, the scene was surprisingly less bustling than before.

The once-crowded streets lined with vendors had become much quieter, with most of the small stalls gone. Even the familiar clay pot soup stall was nowhere to be seen.

The roads flanking the hospital gate looked noticeably cleaner and more spacious, with bright red slogans plastered on the walls. They carried messages about responding to calls for action and striving to become a model county for reform.

The hospital was busier than usual, with longer lines at the registration desk. After seeing the doctor, the two quietly waited outside for their test results.

Jiang Cheng ran a hand over his short, coarse hair. It had been cut so short it felt prickly to the touch.

He didn’t mind, though.

He glanced at his petite wife sitting nearby.

Her hands were soft and white, her palms exceptionally tender. He had sneakily held them on the bus earlier.

But what if she found his buzz cut too scratchy?

Jiang Cheng frowned, lost in thought for two seconds.

Then it hit him—why would she care if his hair was prickly?

It’s not like they shared the same pillow every night.

It’s not like she would kiss, cuddle, or hold him.

So she probably didn’t even care whether his hair was prickly or not.

A trace of bitterness flashed in his dark eyes.

Xia Sili sat quietly on the bench, mentally calculating her recent earnings.

Earlier, during lunch at a small restaurant, she had inquired a bit. That restaurant was run by a family from a nearby town, and the storefront was rented. Though small, it occupied a prime street-side location. The annual rent was 80 yuan, with rumors of a future increase.

It wasn’t outrageously expensive, Xia Sili thought.

Her most pressing goal was, first, to return to school and focus on her studies, hoping to get into university next year so she wouldn’t have to repeat another year.

Second, she dreamed of opening a restaurant in the city as soon as possible. That way, she could secure a steady income, ensuring a sense of stability and confidence for her plans without worrying about an uncertain future.

This was simply her nature. Xia Sili wasn’t afraid of taking risks but dreaded lacking the confidence and foundation to act decisively.

Lost in thought, her delicate brows furrowed slightly before relaxing again.

Her slender hands clasped together, rubbing unconsciously.

Suddenly, a warm cup of water was handed to her.

It was a clean, small porcelain mug with steam rising from the hot water inside.

Jiang Cheng stood before her, looking nonchalant. “Drink it quickly. You won’t let me hold your hand, and your hands are as cold as ice.”

Xia Sili reached out to take the cup. After a moment, a faint smile appeared on her face.

The water was just the right temperature as she sipped it. Looking up, she said, “Thank you.”

Occasionally, this man could be unexpectedly thoughtful.

Jiang Cheng, however, sat beside her, his dark eyes glinting mischievously as he gazed at her. In a low voice, he added, “Oh, I forgot to mention, it’s for my wife. No need to thank me.”

Xia Sili, holding the cup, was utterly exasperated.

Her fair, delicate face lifted slightly, and she raised an eyebrow in feigned annoyance. She reached out to pinch him again.

The man didn’t resist, letting her grab his clothes with her small hand. He didn’t say a word, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he gazed deeply at her.

The water in the cup swayed slightly.

Before Xia Sili could say anything, a commotion erupted from the far end of the hospital corridor.

From the direction of the consultation room came the sharp, angry voice of a woman:

“Quack! Pay me back—you owe me compensation!”

“Everyone, come judge for yourselves! The prescription was written right here! I spent so much money, and you guaranteed that after taking your medicine, I’d have a son!”

“But in the end, I still gave birth to a useless daughter! How is my life so miserable…”

The woman’s loud, hoarse cries echoed through the hospital hallway.

From a distance, she appeared to be in her thirties, wearing a simple short cotton jacket. Her face was thin and sallow, her hair disheveled from the struggle, making a huge scene.

“What’s going on? Isn’t that Dr. Song’s office?”

“Rural people have no manners, making a fuss in a hospital!”

Several nurses huddled together, whispering.

“I remember her! She was just transferred here and gave birth not long ago. Why is she causing trouble at Dr. Song’s office? They’re completely unrelated!”

A young doctor in a white coat blocked the doorway of the consultation room, trying his best to prevent the woman and her family from barging in. But he couldn’t stop them from hurling curses and pointing fingers, his face turning red with frustration.

“Security! Call security! This is outrageous!”

Hearing this, the woman’s expression shifted. She immediately started crying even louder, wiping her tears and snot. “Quacks bullying us rural folks! You’re not human for prescribing the wrong medicine—pay me back my hard-earned money!”

Inside the office, Song Wanran grabbed her father’s hand firmly, her anger barely restrained as she advised, “Dad, don’t go out there! Call security and have them report this to the police to kick those people out! This is a hospital, not a place for their nonsense!”

Song Heng’s face was already marked with scratches, his weariness etched into his features. His hand, clutching a fountain pen tightly, trembled as he spoke in a hoarse and frustrated voice:

“What kind of nonsense is this? Her—her giving birth to a boy or girl has nothing to do with me! When have I ever prescribed so-called ‘male baby medicine’? At my age, do you think I’d abandon basic professional ethics? How could I take money to prescribe something like that?!”

Song Wanran was furious, biting her lip as she cast a cold glance toward the family at the door.

She had only come to bring her father dumplings, only to walk into this mess.

Her father was a widely respected doctor known for his skill and integrity. How could anyone try to pin such filth on him? It must have been some deliberate attempt to ruin his reputation!

Medical disputes like this were tricky—seemingly minor, but capable of escalating rapidly.

Even the most skilled doctor couldn’t anticipate every possible complication, and occasional disagreements between doctors and patients were not unusual in hospitals.

But the way this woman was bawling and crying, repeatedly shouting, “Give me back my son!” made everyone around bristle with disgust.

Though the crowd didn’t know the full story, they could piece together bits of it from her words.

Apparently, this woman had heard somewhere that a renowned doctor in the city, Dr. Song, had an excellent reputation and possessed a family secret: a prescription that supposedly ensured the birth of a boy.

Rumors claimed that all the pregnant women who had followed his prescriptions gave birth to boys without fail.

She believed it.

Privately slipping Dr. Song a significant amount of money, she obtained the so-called “secret formula.” She had brewed and consumed the concoction religiously every day, enduring the bitter taste without missing a single dose.

This was her third pregnancy. She already had two daughters and was risking a hefty fine to try for a son to “carry on the family name.”

On the day of delivery, the family had gathered, brimming with anticipation.

But when the baby was delivered and turned out to be another girl, they were stunned. Their joy turned to fury.

Another daughter?!

Her mother-in-law immediately started cursing, calling the baby a “worthless money-drainer,” lamenting that all the eggs, soups, and meats they had fed her during pregnancy had gone to waste.

Those were meant for her grandson!

Now, all of it had gone into a useless girl! Curse it!

The woman herself was equally livid. Hadn’t Dr. Song promised her? She had endured months of drinking that awful medicine! Now just the thought of it made her nauseous—it had been sheer torture!

The family then decided to track down Dr. Song’s working hours and came storming in, demanding multiple times the money they had paid to “compensate” for their “loss” of not having a son.

From afar, Xia Li listened to the commotion, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness like the others nearby.

This era’s mindset was still deeply entrenched.

Even though policies advocated for gender equality, many still risked everything, including hefty fines, just to have a son for the sake of “carrying on the family line.”

“Money-drainer, money-drainer…” Xia Li thought bitterly. Didn’t this woman grow up being insulted the same way? And now, after having her own daughter, she was going to perpetuate the same cycle of mistreatment?

Before long, hospital security arrived. The guards warned the family they would call the police if they didn’t leave, aiming to escort them out.

Predictably, the mother-in-law and the woman threw themselves onto the floor, wailing,

“City folks are always bullying us rural people!”

“Just try and touch us! My daughter-in-law is still in confinement—if you dare lay a hand on her, I’ll end it all right here!”

Xia Li frowned.

As the woman pushed back her hair, revealing her thin, pale face, a flash of recognition crossed Xia Li’s mind.

?

Was this someone from the original host’s memories?

In the corner of the hallway, a figure slipped past.

Xia Li instinctively turned to look, her vigilance kicking in.

A man she couldn’t mistake appeared before her eyes.

It was Wei Tianhong.

A jolt of realization struck her—she now remembered who this familiar woman was.

She was Wei Tianhong’s second sister!

Wei Tianhong stood in the shadowy corner of the hallway, holding a net bag filled with eggs, seemingly here to visit someone in the hospital.

His slender figure stood out even in the crowd.

From afar, he quietly observed his sister’s spectacle. His expression, initially a frown of deep displeasure, shifted into one of calm composure as if something had dawned on him.

Ever the meddler, he stepped forward, adopting the air of a well-meaning but misguided savior:

“Sister, you should get up. The floor is cold, and aren’t you still in confinement? Be careful not to catch a chill and end up with lingering health issues!”

Zhu Caixia and her mother-in-law immediately turned to him as if they had found their champion. They launched into another tirade:

“Ah! My bitter fate! To get that quack’s medicine, I gave up everything my family had! Tell me, was I cheated? No son and no money—it’s all gone!”

“Dr. Song is a fraud! Today, I demand justice, or I’ll end it here!”

The young doctor standing guard at the office door turned purple with anger. He finally snapped, glaring at her and barking,

“Ridiculous!”

“There is no such thing as a ‘gender guarantee formula’! This has been repeatedly emphasized in the prenatal education we offer here! You should believe in science, not some supposed secret remedy!”

“Besides, Dr. Song has clearly explained and proven multiple times that there’s no record of you ever registering or seeking treatment here! You—show some evidence before making such a scene!”

“This is a hospital, not a marketplace for your tantrums! And there are patients waiting to be seen—can you afford to waste their time?!”

Song Wanran, standing by the door, was deeply moved by the doctor’s defense of her father, even as she herself was overwhelmed with anger and frustration.

Several patients waiting for their appointments, who were regulars of Dr. Song, chimed in:

“Exactly! Without evidence, how can you accuse Dr. Song of being a fraud?”

“We’ve been treated by Dr. Song for years. He’s never taken a bribe or a gift! Even when I brought him a basket of eggs once, he refused to take it. He’s a good doctor!”

As the chorus of support grew, Zhu Caixia hesitated, her bravado faltering under the weight of public disapproval.

Lost and unsure, she glanced around at the crowd of angry faces, momentarily forgetting her theatrics.

Dr. Song finally stepped out of his office, gently patting the younger doctor on the shoulder to signal him to back down.

Though his white coat was disheveled and his face bore scratches, his demeanor remained calm and authoritative.

“I can guarantee,” Dr. Song said in a slightly hoarse voice, “that I, Song Heng, have never prescribed anything called a ‘gender guarantee formula.’”

“I also firmly believe no legitimate doctor would prescribe such a thing. It goes against everything we stand for as medical professionals.”

Turning to the family, his gaze sharpened.

“You’ve caused enough disruption today. You’ve not only interrupted my work but have also severely disrupted the hospital’s operations. If you wish to continue, you’re welcome to file a police report against me. I am fully prepared to face you in court.”

“I, Song Heng, have never accepted a bribe. If you can present any substantial evidence, I’ll accept the consequences, even if it means giving up my career as a doctor.”

“Dad, you don’t need to say things like that to these people! They’re nothing but scoundrels and troublemakers!”

Song Wanran couldn’t contain herself anymore. She stepped forward, pulling at her father’s arm, her eyes slightly red.

It wasn’t from sadness—it was pure fury.

Turning to security, she snapped, “What are you waiting for? Throw these people out!”