Slag Shou Cultivating Manual - Chapter 114

Chapter 114: Storm and Tempest

“My uncle is on a business trip today, so he’s unavailable.” While answering, Rao Chen opened the multi-layered lunchbox, laid everything out, and pushed it all in front of He Lang, even preparing a spoon and chopsticks for him.

The lunchbox had three layers: one for rice, one for stir-fried dishes, and one for soup. The rice was decently steamed, the shredded pork with fish-flavored sauce was slightly overcooked, and the vegetables on the side were a bit tough, but overall, it still looked appetizing.

He Lang appreciated the effort and ate while asking, “What made you think of bringing me food today?”

“If I don’t keep an eye on you, will you eat properly?”

Since the morning, Rao Chen had been preoccupied with He Lang’s eating habits, realizing that while He Lang always ensured he had three meals a day, he had never seen He Lang eat himself. He Lang often stayed by his side, so what did he eat during those times?

The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. Seizing a free moment, he wandered around the facility, found the kitchen, and questioned each person until he located Jia Hui. He then grabbed her by the neck, practically forcing her to teach him how to cook a simple meal.

“How does it taste?” Rao Chen asked casually, flipping through a few reports he didn’t understand.

“It’s delicious.” He Lang smiled in approval, already suspecting that this meal was his handiwork.

Only then did Rao Chen put down the report, revealing a beaming face from behind the paper, grinning as if seeking praise.

“Which one do you like best?”

He Lang had just tasted the soup, which was flavorful, nourishing, and perfectly seasoned, so he answered without hesitation, “The soup is the best.”

Rao Chen’s smile froze, and he muttered an indifferent “Oh.”

Damn it, he didn’t know how to make soup. The soup in the lunchbox was made by that woman.

Sensing something amiss, He Lang quickly changed his tune. “Hmm, but soup alone isn’t filling. I actually like the rice and dishes the most.”

Even though his stomach was a bit uncomfortable, he ate every last bite of the food Rao Chen had personally made, which only made Rao Chen’s smile grow wider.

Once He Lang was full, he returned to work and coaxed Rao Chen to eat as well.

“Your family donated a lot of money to the facility and suggested hiring more staff to care for you. Last month, we brought in 20 more people. But recently, there have been some issues at the facility. I suspect there are people from rival organizations here, so I’ve been quite busy.”

Hearing this, Rao Chen stopped bothering him, packed up the lunchbox, and left. He didn’t let anyone else wash it but did it himself.

He Lang told him he’d be busy for a while, and Rao Chen assumed this just meant less time to see each other during the day. But he didn’t expect that He Lang would get so busy he wouldn’t even come to see him. Not even at night—to sleep by his side.

Angry, Rao Chen stormed into the office, only to find it crowded with assistants and department heads, preventing him from getting close.

When he asked what was going on, he learned that a patient was in critical condition, and an emergency meeting was being held to decide on a treatment plan.

Rao Chen held back his temper and waited nearby. He Lang glanced at him briefly, then took a moment to coax him to leave, as if he were causing unnecessary trouble.

Furious, Rao Chen returned to his room and stayed awake all night.

He Lang, too, felt helpless. He knew Rao Chen would be angry and couldn’t stop worrying about him, but he couldn’t set aside his work or treat a patient’s life lightly.

The next day, before Rao Chen returned, He Lang braced himself and sped through his tasks.

But just before lunch, urgent knocks sounded at his office door.

Two young nurses walked in together. “Something’s wrong, Director! The young master refuses to eat! He smashed the food and broke the IV bottle. Now he’s holding a shard of glass and threatening Sister Fangfang, saying he wants to see you!”

He Lang’s pen paused, and he rubbed his temples. He hadn’t expected such a dramatic outburst—it felt like someone was finally showing their true colors.

Setting aside the records he had just completed, he hurried to the ward. As soon as he opened the door, the tense atmosphere hit him.

The floor was littered with shattered IV bottles and glass shards. Several nurses cowered in a corner, hesitating to approach Rao Chen.

“What’s going on here?”

When questioned, the young man’s expression shifted. The cold indifference he had shown the nurses vanished entirely, replaced by the innocent look of an immature youth. He bit his lip, wrinkled his nose, and raised his wide, innocent eyes toward He Lang, speaking pitifully. “My hand hurts.”

He raised the back of his hand, showing a bruised area and a needle mark.

The head nurse quickly explained, “When we brought in the food, the young master seemed agitated. We thought he was overly emotional, so we gave him a sedative injection. But he broke free and smashed everything.”

Rao Chen shot her a fierce glare, as if blaming her for saying too much.

He Lang stepped forward, gently taking his hand to examine it. “If your hand hurts, let the nurse feed you. You know skipping meals isn’t good for your health, so why be so willful?”

When He Lang first arrived, he had also been averse to eating, often smashing dishes in anger. Back then, he was skinny, pale, and sickly, with hardly any flesh on his tall frame.

Rao Chen fumed silently, almost rolling his eyes. Did he need these women to feed him? Did He Lang not understand whom he wanted to feed him? He thought He Lang was empathetic but sometimes completely missed his hints. Being left alone made him both anxious and frustrated, but he couldn’t bring himself to make a fuss over such trivial matters.

Instead, he deflected the blame, accusing the nurses of being careless and the porridge of being scalding hot, saying they must have been trying to burn him on purpose.

The nurses trembled, speechless and aggrieved.

He Lang raised an eyebrow, knowing he was exaggerating. He ordered someone to bring a fresh bowl of porridge and sent the nurses off to rest.

Scooping up a spoonful of meat porridge, he carefully blew on it until it was just right, then brought it to Rao Chen’s lips. This tender gesture finally soothed Rao Chen’s anger, and he obediently ate.

It was hard to tell if the young man was mature or childish. After undergoing rigorous training with his uncle Lu Yong, he had grown tougher, accumulating scars that healed and reopened. His aura became steadier, and he seemed to have matured significantly. Yet, when it came to He Lang, he clung to him more than a three-year-old would.

He Lang sighed with a hint of frustration. “I’m a doctor, not a nanny. I can’t always be with you.” Though his existence revolved around Rao Chen, he still had other responsibilities and couldn’t indulge him all the time. It wouldn’t help him grow.

Rao Chen’s expression, which had been improving, darkened again upon hearing this. He bit his lip, silently questioning why He Lang couldn’t always stay with him. If he was so busy, why come to see him at all? Wouldn’t it be better if he starved to death, giving He Lang one less thing to worry about?

For the first time, Rao Chen realized how petty he was. He knew his behavior was becoming more like the unreasonable tantrums people accused him of, but he felt no remorse. He was selfish, domineering, and exasperating.

But He Lang had promised him he would be someone special. So his expectations of He Lang were higher than anyone else’s.

What he wanted wasn’t just the affection He Lang handed out generously. He wanted all of him—his gaze, his thoughts, the very meaning of his existence.

He Lang had given him countless promises and tender words, and despite his guarded nature, Rao Chen had naively believed every one of them. So anyone could tire of him—except He Lang.

Rao Chen trembled slightly, his emotions a storm inside him. He suddenly leapt out of bed, shoving He Lang away. Stumbling, he grabbed a vase and smashed it, letting it bear the brunt of his anger.

His temper flared like a sudden storm, fierce and unpredictable. He Lang, startled by his outburst, gained a new understanding of his volatile nature.

Seeing that the IV stand was about to meet the same fate, He Lang acted quickly, pulling him into an embrace. Wrapping his arms around his waist, he pressed him close, trying to calm him. “Enough… enough. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. Don’t be mad anymore.”

Rao Chen’s movements came to an abrupt halt as he stiffly allowed He Lang to hold him. However, as he scrutinized He Lang’s face, his expression remained icy. He Lang sighed with slight frustration, pulling him onto the bed. The two lay side by side, their eyes meeting, and a silent exchange gradually softened the atmosphere between them.

After his impulsive outburst, Rao Chen realized he was in the wrong. When He Lang reached out to take his hand, he immediately returned the grasp, nuzzling against He Lang’s neck with a low sigh. “Maybe I really am crazy, just like they say. I must’ve made things difficult for you.”

He Lang shook his head and gently patted the soft hair at the back of Rao Chen’s head. “I didn’t consider your feelings when I spoke. That’s my fault.”

In his view, although Rao Chen could be unreasonable, he wasn’t truly petty. If coaxed properly, he was willing to compromise and understand. He just hadn’t anticipated such an extreme reaction to his words.

But Rao Chen’s next action shattered that perception in an instant.

He Lang felt a sharp pain in his neck. Rao Chen had bitten him without warning, his eyes fierce, like a wild wolf sinking its teeth into its prey. Yet there was also a glimmer of smug satisfaction in his expression. “But I have no regrets… because I’ve always been this unreasonable. If you regret it now, it’s too late.”

His gaze brimmed with raw intensity as he locked eyes with He Lang. It was as if he were silently declaring that any sign of remorse or hesitation would result in another bite—this time, with no intention of letting go.

He Lang winced at the pain, taking in a sharp breath, annoyed by Rao Chen’s recklessness. But since he had come to this world, there was no room for regret. Steeling himself, he replied, “I don’t regret it…”

Satisfied, Rao Chen nodded, his gaze softening like sunlight breaking through after a storm. He grabbed He Lang’s hand and urged him to feed him, deliberately slowing his movements to prolong the moment and prevent He Lang from leaving.

Even as slow-witted as He Lang was, he quickly caught on to Rao Chen’s intentions. He reached out to ruffle Rao Chen’s hair, reassuring him, “The work I mentioned earlier is already done. I can spend time with you properly now. There’s no need for you to try so hard.”

Author’s Note: Sensitive Chen Chen.