Chapter 2492

This guy just wanted to watch the excitement—Zheng Ren could only think that.

It was already the end of July, but the man still wore a somewhat shabby outer coat. Zheng Ren found it strange, worried there might be a risk Su Yun couldn't handle alone, so he followed over.

"Hey, wanna smoke?" Su Yun peeled off his three-layer mask, exhaled, and asked kindly.

The man blinked, seeing Su Yun in an isolation gown, realized he was a doctor from Di Du, and his smile grew more obsequious.

"Come on, if you weren't here, there wouldn't be so much trouble." Su Yun said, "There's a critical patient in the ward, and all this noise—if anyone's heart condition flared up, the family would curse you to death."

The middle-aged man kept bowing and nodding; he was obsequious not only to that woman but also to Su Yun, as if this attitude had seeped into his very bones.

Zheng Ren saw his expression—no resentment at all, and despite the nail scratches on his face, he seemed unfazed.

His eyes, however, sparkled with excitement and pleasure.

Odd.

Zheng Ren glanced at the child's mother, who was squatting against the wall. The father stood far off, offering no comfort at all.

This complicated, strange family situation left Zheng Ren puzzled.

Seeing the security keeping order, Zheng Ren had nothing to worry about. He followed Su Yun and the middle-aged man downstairs to the outdoor smoking area.

"Whoops, sorry—I was busy coming down and didn't bring any cigarettes." Su Yun patted his pockets, then realized.

"I've got some, I've got some—just worried you might not be used to it." the man said quickly.

No problem.

He produced a white cigarette pack, and Su Yun's eyes lit up.

"Lingzhi mushroom? They don't make these cigarettes anymore?"

"I just like smoking this; there's still a shop nearby that sells it." Seeing Su Yun recognize it and not mind, the middle-aged man said happily, "I'm the only one who buys it—I know that shop well, and there's still one last box left. I'll probably smoke it until next year, then it'll be gone."

Zheng Ren also knew this cigarette—it was the cheapest kind, unusually harsh, with a powerful kick.

With Zheng Ren's smoking tolerance, two puffs would be all he could handle.

"There used to be a retired professor who loved this stuff—he'd take a puff in the changing room before surgery, and nobody could stand the smell." Su Yun tossed a cigarette to Zheng Ren, and took one himself.

The middle-aged man lit theirs.

Sure enough, the taste was just as it had been years ago—unchanged. Zheng Ren coughed twice; the smoke irritated his lungs badly, and he couldn't handle even one puff.

There was another person in the smoking room, playing on his phone while smoking with his legs crossed.

Su Yun blew a lungful of smoke toward him; a yellow‑white haze engulfed the man, who blinked, then burst into coughing, hastily stubbing out his cigarette and rushing off.

"Hey, not many can handle this. Buddy, you work here?" With no one else around, Su Yun launched into friendly small talk and questioning.

The middle-aged man chuckled. "The one who just hit me was my wife," he said.

""

Su Yun blinked, took an involuntary drag, then immediately burst into a violent coughing fit.

"Take it easy, take it easy." the middle-aged man said.

"You really—" Su Yun's face flushed, his voice hoarse, and after getting out half a sentence he coughed twice.

He recalled Lan Zong's earlier remark—"Old Wang comes home to sleep"—and thought, "This relationship is really complicated."

"Doctor, did you assist in the surgery?" the middle-aged man asked.

"Yeah, we performed it. The surgery's over; they should be coming down any minute now." Su Yun said.

Su Yun spoke, but Zheng Ren stayed silent, eyes narrowed as he studied the man's expression.

He seemed taken aback, but then relaxed, smiled, and leaned against the flimsy hard‑plastic chair.

He looked as if a great weight had been lifted.

Zheng Ren ventured: "Is the child your son?"

"Yes and no," the man replied.

"Spill it—what's going on?" Su Yun asked. "Don't think we're being nosy, but your family situation feels strange. Buddy, we met by fate—just tell us, don't keep it bottled up."

The man gave a small smile; his facial scars twisted, making him look somewhat menacing.

Seeing he remained silent, Su Yun glanced at Zheng Ren, exchanged a look, then said: "If you won't tell me, I can still guess a bit."

"'Oh?' the middle-aged man merely smiled."

"When I first showed up, I assumed the man in the suit was the child's father." Su Yun exhaled, his black hair fluttering proudly.

"And since you said it's both yes and no, I guess you two ended up together later."

"'Yes and no,' the man repeated."

Zheng Ren's mind raced, recalling every detail, yet he still had no idea.

"'Oh? Sounds like there's a story.' Su Yun eyed the middle-aged man, smiling, unhurried, just making conversation."

"'No story—honest folks in this world are just destined to be pushed around.' The middle-aged man said with an optimistic, fatalistic air, having seen through life: 'You're still young; you can't afford to be too honest in this world.'"

"'Based on what you're saying, do you think I'm an honest person?' Su Yun countered."

"'Yes,' the middle-aged man affirmed."

"This was apparently the first time anyone had called Su Yun honest, and Zheng Ren smiled."

"Don't go on about this, you put up with this every day—can you really stand it? This must be what they call true love." Su Yun vaguely guessed something; on this matter, he was countless times more capable than his own Boss.

"Maybe it's true love, or maybe it's just lust at first sight." The man let out a slight sigh, head lowered, smoking reishi.

"Buddy, I'm saying what's on my mind; if I say something wrong, don't take offense." Su Yun said seriously.

"It's fine; if you can do it, you can say it." The middle-aged man responded calmly.

"The kid isn't yours, yet he calls you dad." Su Yun got straight to the point: "Are you the one who stepped in?"

Zheng Ren felt a little Worry, he prepared carefully. His right foot planted firmly on the ground; as long as the middle-aged man made any move, Zheng Ren could burst forth at any moment and subdue him without harming him.

But nothing Zheng Ren imagined happened; the middle-aged man smoked with Calm. Only his gaze toward Su Yun shifted slightly, a bit loosened, carrying a hint of mockery or self‑derision.

"Oh, the one who stepped in? That's not enough. The kid's Lao Wang's—I knew it all along." The middle-aged man said leisurely: "Every day I have to ask whether Lao Wang will come over for a meal. If he does, I'll make a bit more; in the Evening he sleeps in the bed, I sleep on the sofa."

"……"

Zheng Ren remained silent, suddenly feeling that the wind, which should have been scorching hot in midsummer, had turned bitterly cold. To say such a thing in such a flat, indifferent tone—no matter how you listen, it sounds weird.