Chapter 85: Grandpa Sheng Wakes Up
“That’s a relief. I’ve brewed some malted milk for you; it’s right here in this thermos. Don’t forget to drink it.”
Ever since Grandpa Sheng fell ill, Mother Sheng had suddenly become hyper-focused on the family’s nutrition. Before stepping out the door now, she made absolutely sure Grandma Sheng drained a full glass of malted milk, terrified that another member of the household might suffer a sudden health crisis.
“I’ll go find the doctor to ask what your grandfather can actually eat once he’s awake. I need to head back to the kitchen and get things ready.”
With that, Mother Sheng hurried over to the physician’s office. She was explicitly instructed to provide light, nutrient-dense meals and to strictly avoid fatty meats, which would irritate the recovering intestines. Armed with this knowledge, Mother Sheng resolved to head home, brew a pot of lean minced meat porridge, and steam a delicate egg custard for Grandpa Sheng.
Grandpa Sheng finally threw off the effects of the anesthesia and woke up around four in the afternoon. The moment Father Sheng woke up from his nap and had a quick bite to eat, he rushed straight back to the hospital.
“Dad, are you awake?” he asked, stepping up to the bed.
“How are you feeling?”
Grandpa Sheng blinked against the dim light, looking at his son and granddaughter as the memory of his sudden collapse came rushing back. He remembered the blinding stomachache and how he had stubbornly tried to endure it until the agony finally knocked him unconscious.
“Water…” he rasped, his throat entirely dry.
Sheng Wanyan quickly poured a cup of warm water from her canteen, and Father Sheng carefully lifted the old man’s head to help him take a few sips.
“What exactly happened to me?” Grandpa Sheng mumbled, catching his breath.
“Dad, you had acute appendicitis,” Father Sheng explained, his voice a mix of relief and mild frustration. “The surgeon had to open you up because you decided to eat a raw sweet potato in the dead of night.”
Hearing the diagnosis, Grandpa Sheng instantly lowered his head, his face flushing with deep embarrassment. “How on earth did I manage to land myself in a hospital bed over a single sweet potato…” He felt intensely guilty and didn’t dare meet the gaze of his son or granddaughter.
“Grandfather, I have warned you countless times to stay away from raw and cold foods,” Wanyan said, her expression serious. “If you ever find yourself hungry in the middle of the night, you merely need to wake me up. I will gladly light the stove and cook something hot for you.”
“You youngsters toil so hard during the day,” Grandpa Sheng defended himself in a low murmur. “I merely got up to use the restroom in the middle of the night and felt a bit empty. I didn’t want to wake a single soul, so I just grabbed what was on hand. Back when we were young and fighting out in the fields, we ate raw starches all the time. It was never such a massive crisis…”
Sheng Wanyan simply stared at him, her gaze so stern and unwavering that Grandpa Sheng’s voice gradually lost its momentum and trailed off into a sheepish whisper. His granddaughter had lectured him on this exact topic dozens of times, and he had even proudly patted his chest, giving her his solemn word that he would never touch raw or cold food again. Yet here he was, caught red-handed and thoroughly humbled by a surgical blade.
“From this day forward… I give you my absolute vow that I will never touch raw or cold food again,” he mumbled.
“You said it, so you had better remember it,” Wanyan countered, tilting her head. “Otherwise, Grandma and I will permanently cut off your wine supply.”
“What?! You can’t do that!”
Hearing that his beloved liquor was in jeopardy, Grandpa Sheng instantly forgot his frailty, expanding his chest to protest the injustice.
“Mom has already safely hidden every bottle in the apartment,” Father Sheng chimed in. “If your body isn’t in peak condition, you can completely forget about taking a single sip. You have to take care of yourself.”
Grandpa Sheng instantly deflated, all the fire draining from his posture. He slumped back against the pillows, thoroughly miserable. He couldn’t believe a single late-night sweet potato had cost him his drinking privileges.
“Furthermore, the doctor explicitly stated that you are strictly barred from eating fatty meat or chili peppers for the foreseeable future,” Wanyan added.
Grandpa Sheng’s eyes widened in sheer outrage. He was banned from his favorite rich pork cuts, he couldn’t have a single trace of spice, and his wine was locked away—was the universe actively trying to bore him to death?
“If you refuse to listen to the medical staff, I will simply sit by your bedside and weep until you comply,” Wanyan threatened with a playful glint in her eye.
“Alright, alright… By the way, how is your grandmother?” Grandpa Sheng asked, quickly shifting the topic. “She must have been absolutely terrified when she watched me collapse.” He knew his wife’s temperament intimately; she was bound to be historical. Back when they were young courted sweethearts, she had been a proper crybaby, and decades of marriage hadn’t changed that one bit.
“Terrified doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Wanyan nodded. “Her entire face went pale from sobbing so hard.”
“Waaah… you old fool!”
The literal second the words left Wanyan’s mouth, the ward doors burst open, and Grandma Sheng’s high-pitched wails echoed through the room. She rushed straight to the bedside, throwing her arms around Grandpa Sheng and weeping uncontrollably.
“Now, now, old lady, look at me. I’m completely fine,” Grandpa Sheng soothed, patting her back awkwardly. “What is there to weep over?”
Grandma Sheng’s sorrow instantly flared into absolute fury. If her husband weren’t currently hooked up to medical tubes and restricted to a hospital mattress, she would have ruthlessly pounded his chest with her fists.
“How dare you act so casual?!” she barked through her tears. “I begged you to steer clear of raw, cold food, but you treated my words like passing wind! If our kind neighbors hadn’t rushed to transport you, I would have been left watching you draw your last breath on our floor! At your advanced age, you can’t even grant me a single day of peace…”
Grandma Sheng launched into a relentless, rhythmic scolding, and Grandpa Sheng took it all in absolute, terrified silence, not daring to utter a single syllable of defense. After all, his wife’s tears were currently flowing like a localized waterfall, and he knew better than to fan the flames.
Fortunately, Mother Sheng stepped into the room a moment later, balancing the freshly prepared container of warm lean meat porridge. Realizing her husband hadn’t consumed a single scrap of sustenance since throwing off the anesthesia, Grandma Sheng finally swallowed her complaints so he could eat.
“I’ll go track down the attending physician to have him run a quick assessment,” Father Sheng noted, focusing on the immediate logistics. Now that the patriarch was fully conscious, it was vital the medical team verify his recovery path.
The doctor arrived promptly, methodically inspecting Grandpa Sheng’s abdomen. He confirmed that the incision site showed zero signs of bacterial infection and noted that the patient’s temperature was perfectly clear.
“Everything is structurally normal,” the doctor announced with a reassured nod. “Just maintain this strict, disciplined care regime.”
“Thank you so much, Doctor. We appreciate your hard work.”
The physician offered a casual wave of his hand and departed, allowing Mother Sheng to smoothly set out the hot porridge. Terrified that the old man might tear his fresh surgical stitches if he leaned forward, Father Sheng took the spoon and patiently fed him one bite at a time.
Lying in the adjacent bed, the greedy old lady stared intently at the rich minced meat porridge and the smooth, golden egg custard, her mouth watering with intense envy. This family spends money like water! she grumbled internally. To feed an old man such premium luxury rations as if the ingredients cost absolutely nothing.
She had kept a hawkish eye on their ward dynamics. Last night, Father Sheng’s dinner container had contained two massive, juicy chicken legs. Today, the young girl had enjoyed a luxury mid-day spread of fresh eggs, premium bacon, and hot malted milk—the sweet, rich aroma of the milk powder had filled the entire room for hours. Yet she was forced to just lie here and watch them indulge; she wasn’t even the actual patient in her own bed, yet she ate significantly better than anyone else in the clinic.
Mother Sheng initially moved toward the corner to gather the soiled clothes Grandpa Sheng had stripped out of yesterday, intending to wash them, but Father Sheng stopped her. He had already scrubbed the entire bundle down to the threads during the quiet night shift, hanging the garments along the sunny side of the ward window to dry.
“Say, old sister, is this lovely young thing your granddaughter?”
Hearing the sudden voice, Grandma Sheng turned her head, discovering the elderly neighbor in the next bed smiling at her. She offered a brief, polite nod. “Yes, she is.”
“My, your granddaughter is truly something spectacular,” the old woman noted, a malicious gleam flashing in her eyes. “She spent the entire afternoon tucked away in that corner secretly gorging herself on two whole premium oranges.”
The old lady felt a sudden surge of vindictive glee as Grandma Sheng’s expression instantly darkened. In her twisted mind, she assumed the girl must have secretly hoarded the family’s expensive fruit assets for herself; once the grandmother discovered the selfishness, the brat would undoubtedly receive a violent, severe thrashing from her elders. The little thing was simply too young to realize who truly held the cards in a boardroom brawl!
“Please don’t be too harsh on the child, sister,” the old crone added with fake sympathy. “High-grade fruit is incredibly expensive nowadays, so it’s entirely natural for a young creature to be selfish and eat it all alone.”
Lying on the mattress nearest to the exit, the middle-aged man lowered his newspaper, turning his head to watch the impending trainwreck with a quiet smirk.
“What exactly is the problem with my granddaughter consuming two of our own oranges? Hmm?” Grandma Sheng countered, her voice dropping into a dangerous, icy register.
“Are you intentionally trying to brew an internal conflict for my girl right before my face?”
“She isn’t consuming resources siphoned from your household pool, so why on earth does your mouth itch to comment so aggressively on her diet?”
Grandma Sheng had survived decades of political shifts and social upheavals; she had unmasked every imaginable monster, demon, and calculated actor in the province. For a random, parasitic stranger to attempt to weaponize family discipline to humiliate her granddaughter right in front of her was a laughably pathetic display. Did this old crone honestly believe her family operated like those toxic households where a girl would be beaten half to death over a piece of fruit? This old lady’s intent was profoundly insidious; she was actively trying to ruin a young woman’s standing.
“My word! I merely shared that observation out of pure neighborly kindness,” the old crone stammered, taken aback by the fierce defense. “Why on earth must you be so hostile and ungrateful?”
“My granddaughter possesses the absolute right to consume whatever her heart desires,” Grandma Sheng stated firmly, her tone leaving zero room for negotiation. “Even if she demands to eat premium luxury fruit every single day of the year, our administration harbors absolutely zero objections. You are a complete, unrelated outsider; by what right do you presume to govern her appetite?”
“You… how dare you…”
The old woman pointed a trembling finger at Grandma Sheng, her face contorting with rage. “This entire household is completely backward and foolish! To waste such elite wealth and devotion on a common money-loser!”
In her primitive mind, girls were ultimately destined to marry out into rival clans, meaning they were structurally incapable of carrying on the family’s ancestral lineage. She truly couldn’t comprehend the madness of the Sheng family. To possess such an immense fortune yet squander it on a daughter rather than funneling every copper coin toward raising premium grandsons was unconscionable. Why, her very own precious grandson hadn’t even smelled a single drop of luxury malted milk powder in his life, yet this useless little girl got to guzzle it by the thermos!
“What do you mean by ‘how dare I’?” Grandma Sheng fired back, cutting her off with absolute authority. “Keep your tongue behind your teeth. It is entirely outside your station to issue directives to my child!”
