Chapter 58: The Unwelcome Third Wheel

Generally speaking, large hospitals all have special wards reserved for high-ranking officials. These wards are far more luxurious than the standard ones: not only are they private rooms for single occupancy, but their facilities are exceedingly comfortable. The rooms are spacious, furnished with a plush Simmons bed, solid wood furniture and floors, a refrigerator, a flat-screen television, and a water heater.

In short, the place is arranged much like a presidential suite.

Only those with status and position are eligible to stay in such a ward; ordinary people could hardly dream of spending their lives in such comfort.

If it had been before, someone like Chang Yu—a man of the lowest rung, a mud-stained commoner—would never have qualified for such a room in his entire life.

But now, he was an investigator for the Disaster Investigation Bureau, officially on the government payroll. He had just assisted his country and its people by helping to subdue a disastrous threat, indirectly saving many lives from the clutches of that ruthless calamity.

Now that he was injured in the line of duty, it was only fitting, both by sentiment and by reason, that he should be housed in this high-ranking official ward—no one could find fault with it.

This hospital was affiliated with the military, where the Disaster Investigation Bureau wielded significant influence.

Thanks to the bureau's backing, Chang Yu had been assigned to this room.

So, when Feng Sanpao finally found his way after much effort to visit Chang Yu in his high-ranking ward, he happened upon the intimate scene of Chang Yu being fed by Katya.

Feng Sanpao's heart immediately soured, as if he'd bitten into a lemon; he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his face contorting.

"Hiss— When did the two of you become so close?" he asked, his tone tinged with envy, and if one listened carefully, there was a faint thread of jealousy within it.

"Don’t get the wrong idea," Katya hurriedly said, her hands awkwardly withdrawing as soon as she saw Feng Sanpao enter, much to Chang Yu’s disappointment. She quickly set down the plate, retreated several steps, and her usual serious expression returned.

"Chang Yu is badly injured and can’t feed himself, so I was just helping him eat."

Feng Sanpao eyed the bedridden Chang Yu, then glanced at Katya, who was trying hard to cover for herself. His disbelief was written all over his face.

"Sakura-chan, I don’t want to try anymore!" Feng Sanpao blurted out. "How about... feeding me, too?"

"In your dreams!"

"Not a chance!"

Chang Yu and Katya answered in unison.

...

"Tsk tsk... This place is way better than my staff dorm!" Ever since he came to visit Chang Yu, Feng Sanpao hadn’t sat still for a moment. He paced around the room, inspecting everything as though he'd entered a grand estate.

He had thought that in a hospital, Chang Yu would be in for a few months of hardship: crammed into a room with six or seven other patients, the air thick with the pungent smell of disinfectant, and at night, the chorus of snoring would drive anyone mad.

Who would have thought Chang Yu was living better than he was?

And it was a single room—quiet and peaceful.

"Hey! Tell me, what did you come here for, really?" Chang Yu shot Feng Sanpao a cold stare, his gaze edged with hostility.

He hadn’t forgotten that this scatterbrained guy had barged in at the worst possible moment, just as Katya was feeding him.

Not only did he interrupt their sweet moment, but he’d also caused the atmosphere between him and Katya to become awkward and distant.

Especially Katya—she was a girl, after all, and rather shy. With someone else present, she was too embarrassed to continue feeding him; to outsiders, it would seem far too intimate.

Anyone would be annoyed if, in the midst of a private moment, some boisterous third wheel barged in and wouldn’t stop chattering.

At this moment, Feng Sanpao was the very embodiment of a glaring third wheel—irritating in the extreme.

Chang Yu thought, I must get rid of this guy, or all my earlier efforts will go to waste.

"I just thought, since you were injured, I’d come check on you," Feng Sanpao replied, shrinking under Chang Yu’s icy gaze.

Chang Yu’s mind turned quickly, and he came up with a clever way to send him away: "If you came to visit, why didn’t you bring any gifts?"

"Gifts? Oh, now that you mention it... I was in such a rush, I forgot," Feng Sanpao scratched his head, a bit embarrassed.

After a pause, he grinned. "But we know each other so well—no need to stand on ceremony. I’ll make it up to you next time."

He shouldn’t have spoken. The moment he mentioned "next time," Chang Yu grew agitated.

"What? You plan to come again?" Chang Yu’s tone rose with his irritation.

So, this guy wanted to be a meddler and a third wheel more often? Was he determined to ruin his time alone with Katya?

Who wouldn’t be anxious?

"Of course! We’re comrades-in-arms—there’s no bond deeper than that!" Feng Sanpao babbled on. "How could just one visit express the depth of our camaraderie? If I can’t come every day, I should still visit you a hundred times or more."

Chang Yu’s face darkened as if smeared with soot, an aura of "keep away" radiating from him.

"What? You want to come a hundred times?" Chang Yu pounded his mattress in frustration.

"And you call yourself a comrade! What sort of comrade visits empty-handed?"

"Enough talk," Chang Yu said, mouth wide in mock anger. "You just look down on me!"

Feng Sanpao was dumbfounded, muttering to himself, "I look down on you? How? I haven’t done anything..."

Chang Yu’s sharp ears caught his mumbling, and he almost laughed out loud. The fool probably didn’t even know why he was angry.

Fine, let him stew in confusion.

"If you didn’t look down on me, why show up empty-handed? Isn’t that disrespectful?"

Suppressing a laugh, Chang Yu kept his face stern and let loose a tirade.

"I really didn’t mean any disrespect!" Feng Sanpao scratched his head in confusion, wondering why Chang Yu wouldn’t let it go. He usually seemed so easygoing—what was with this stubbornness? Had he accidentally offended him?

"If you don’t look down on me, then go buy me a get-well gift," Chang Yu said, laughing inside while keeping up his angry facade.

"Alright, alright! I give in! I’ll go now," Feng Sanpao shrugged, helpless before Chang Yu’s insistence.

Without another word, he headed for the door, all bluster and haste.

"Wait!"

Just as Feng Sanpao reached the threshold, Chang Yu called him back.

"Changed your mind? Don’t want a gift anymore?" Feng Sanpao looked at him hopefully, ready to return at a word.

"Don’t get your hopes up," Chang Yu said mercilessly. "I just wanted to remind you to take out the trash by the door before you leave."

"Got it." Feng Sanpao replied glumly, grabbed the trash, and left.

"Alright, with that third wheel Feng Sanpao gone, we can continue," Chang Yu said cheerfully, stretching his neck and waiting for Katya to feed him again.

As the saying goes, once you’re used to something, it gets easier. This time, Katya wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as before. She picked up the plate and a toothpick, expertly feeding Chang Yu slices of apple.

"Feng Sanpao is a good comrade," Katya said as she fed him. "Don’t bully him and disrupt the team harmony."

"Mmm... I don’t intend to bully him," Chang Yu replied, speaking around a mouthful of apple. "He’s just a bit of an eyesore, so I wanted to send him away. Now the room is nice and quiet."

Hopefully, he won’t come back too soon, Chang Yu thought. With only the two of them, the room was just right.

As he pondered what he might ask Katya to feed him next, Chang Yu suddenly sniffed the air.

It seemed... since a short while ago, a strange odor had been wafting into the room.

"Not good!"

A bad premonition filled Chang Yu.

Sure enough, a pungent stench spread through the air—an all-too-familiar, signature smell.

He blinked, and his eyes immediately stung, as if he’d been chopping onions—he simply couldn’t keep them open.

A tear slipped down his cheek.

Chang Yu knew he was right: the visitor could only be Shi Chengjin.

Who else could manage to announce their presence with their odor before they even arrived?

Sure enough, Shi Chengjin barged in, feet splayed, wearing flip-flops, swaggering right into the room.

"Hey, you’re all here!" Shi Chengjin greeted Chang Yu and Katya, as if he were at home.

Then he noticed the tears streaming down Chang Yu’s face. "What’s this? Why are you crying?"

Chang Yu rubbed his eyes, but the tears only flowed faster, beyond his control. "I don’t know," he replied. "The tears just fall on their own. Maybe... maybe I’m homesick."

He couldn’t very well admit that it was Shi Chengjin’s foot odor making his eyes water, could he?

"You two chat—I’ll step out so I don’t disturb you," Katya said, unable to stand the stench any longer. She pinched her nose and rushed from the room.

Sharing a room with Shi Chengjin was unbearable—she simply couldn’t take it.

Staring at Katya’s departing figure, Chang Yu’s vision blurred with tears.

A wave of sorrow welled up within him, with no one to whom he could pour out his misery.

"All I wanted was to eat an apple. Why is it so hard?" He’d finally managed to send away that blockhead Feng Sanpao, only for the jinx Shi Chengjin to show up instead.

His life was truly a trial!

"Hey, don’t cry! I understand you completely—words aren’t necessary," Shi Chengjin said, giving Chang Yu’s shoulder a reassuring pat, his face full of knowing sympathy.

"You understand... what?" Chang Yu was momentarily stunned, wondering if his feelings for Katya had been exposed.

But Shi Chengjin went on, brimming with self-assurance, "You must have missed me too much!"

"...What?"

Chang Yu was dumbfounded, his mind unable to process this logic.

"You missed me so much that seeing me again moved you to tears. Look, I hadn’t even spoken yet, and you were already crying rivers," Shi Chengjin declared confidently.

Chang Yu: ...

What kind of nonsense was this?

Why were there so many self-absorbed fools in this world?

This had to be some kind of joke.

Who on earth would miss him?

Miss his faint scent of tobacco, or the overpowering stench of his feet?

Good grief...