Chapter 9: Am I Serving My Ancestor Here?

Lu Qingyue didn’t find anything inappropriate about it. As the conversation reached this point, she glanced over instinctively, her mind blank of any other thoughts.

Her response was entirely different from the suggestive notions that emerged in Cheng Xingye’s mind.

So she looked straight at him, feeling no psychological burden at all—in fact, her curiosity about the male anatomy was momentarily piqued.

But Cheng Xingye had no intention of standing there, letting her scrutinize his private parts as if he were an exhibit.

Her gaze swept over him just once, yet he instantly felt as though he were a head of cabbage in a marketplace, being picked over and judged—half-expecting her to comment, “This stem isn’t big enough.”

With that thought, discomfort overtook him. He stood up, turned away from Lu Qingyue’s eyes, and made an excuse to step outside for a cigarette.

Once he left, Lu Qingyue quickly grew bored.

Thinking Lu Yi wouldn’t be back soon, she pulled out her phone, opened a gaming app, and entered the arena.

She and Lu Ming had spent the entire summer fighting side by side; now she was only two stars away from reaching the top tier. If all went well, tonight would be the night she became a legend.

The enemy instantly picked Lanling King, and Lu Qingyue excitedly locked in as Little Daji.

Fifteen minutes later, she achieved a triple kill before being taken down.

A mage sacrificed to the heavens, her magic boundless.

Her teammates seized the moment to destroy the enemy’s crystal.

Just then, voices sounded outside, and the door swung open. Lu Yi and Cheng Xingye entered one after the other.

Lu Yi carried a few takeout boxes and a bag of clothes. He immediately set the food on the table.

It was nearly seven o’clock; the three of them had been at the hospital all this time without eating, so on his way back, Lu Yi had grabbed some food from a roadside seafood stall.

Of course, his idea of “something casual” was quite different from Lu Qingyue’s.

For Lu Qingyue, a casual meal meant a simple noodle shop or a Lanzhou hand-pulled noodle place. But Lu Yi’s version involved a seafood feast, with turbot, mantis shrimp, and even small Australian lobsters.

Lu Qingyue loved shrimp the most and reached for it at once.

But she moved too fast and pricked her finger on a mantis shrimp’s tail. A bead of blood immediately welled up.

A sharp yelp shattered the peace in the room.

Lu Yi remained composed, barely glancing over.

Confident she wouldn’t bleed to death from such a tiny wound, he tossed a pair of chopsticks to Cheng Xingye, signaling him to ignore her and just eat.

The wound went deep, nearly under her fingernail; the pain was real, and Lu Qingyue grimaced in silence. Still, it wasn’t worth summoning a nurse for such a minor injury.

After her outcry, she caught her breath and, when the pain subsided, still craved shrimp.

But the spicy oil stung her wound, so she poked Lu Yi’s arm and said softly,

“Brother, I want to eat shrimp.”

Lu Yi, hearing this, peeled a mantis shrimp in front of her—then leisurely popped the clean meat into his own mouth and drawled,

“Eat shrimp? You look just like one yourself.”

Lu Qingyue was speechless.

If she had committed a crime, let the law punish her—not the cruel fate of being siblings with Lu Yi, who not only refused to peel her shrimp but mocked her for it.

Seeing her indignant expression, Lu Yi lounged back comfortably, peeling shrimp after shrimp, each one disappearing into his own stomach.

Halfway through, he dabbed his mouth with a napkin, then looked at her furious little face and said nonchalantly,

“If you want shrimp, peel them yourself. Can’t you see I’m busy? Why not ask the guy who hit you in the head with a ball?”

The one who’d hit her glanced over at these words.

He’d already noticed Lu Qingyue struggling to peel shrimp with her injured hand.

But since she hadn’t asked, he didn’t offer—he didn’t want to seem over-eager or inappropriate.

He slouched against his chair, expecting her to be too shy to ask. But he completely underestimated the thick skin Lu Qingyue had developed under Lu Yi’s influence.

When it came to food, Lu Qingyue never held a grudge, nor did she play coy.

She instantly forgot why she was even there, turned to Cheng Xingye, and tentatively asked,

“Um, could you help me peel shrimp? My head’s still a little dizzy...”

Cheng Xingye hadn’t expected her to be so forward, genuinely asking him for help. He let out a low laugh, lazily teasing her,

“What did you just call me?”

Lu Qingyue suddenly remembered her youthful bravado, calling him “King of the Sea” in the past.

But she was nothing if not pragmatic; there was no pride she wouldn’t swallow for a bowl of rice.

She changed her tone without missing a beat, obediently addressing him,

“Brother Xingye.”

Before Cheng Xingye could respond, Lu Yi raised an eyebrow in surprise.

He chewed over this form of address—it sounded oddly intimate, and for some reason, he felt annoyed.

“You never show me this much respect, but you’re awfully sweet to him.”

Noticing the faint trace of jealousy, Lu Qingyue doubled down, her voice turning soft as cotton,

“Brother Xingye, will you peel shrimp for me? Please?”

Cheng Xingye: ...

Could these siblings not drag him into their bickering?

But what was this feeling, exactly?

He thought, this girl is just too adorable—who could resist?

A sudden urge to tease her welled up inside him.

He gazed at her with great interest for a while.

Her skin was fair, her features not yet fully matured—a petite, delicate face radiating a hint of youthful innocence.

Lu Qingyue was completely unaware that his gaze held something new and different. She only had eyes for the shrimp disappearing one by one into Lu Yi’s stomach, growing impatient.

“Brother Xingye, hurry up, my brother’s almost finished eating them all.”

Snapped out of his reverie, Cheng Xingye smiled to himself, unexpectedly pleased by her way of addressing him. He pushed Lu Yi’s hand away from the shrimp, pulled the entire box over, and began peeling them for her.

Given good food, Lu Qingyue immediately forgot who her real brother was.

With each bite, she chirped “Brother Xingye,” directing him to place the largest mantis shrimp into her bowl.

It was as if she and Cheng Xingye were the actual siblings.

Lu Yi couldn’t stand the sight and went out for a smoke, his mood sour.

With him gone, only Cheng Xingye and Lu Qingyue remained in this corner of the hospital room.

Cheng Xingye wasn’t used to taking care of people, but his hands were skilled; in no time, he’d peeled all the remaining mantis shrimp and placed the tender meat in her bowl.

Lu Qingyue ate with relish, her eyes curving into crescent moons as she squinted in satisfaction.

When the last shrimp disappeared, she sighed contentedly and looked around for a napkin. Suddenly, someone handed her a tissue and gently wiped the sauce from the corner of her lips.

Lu Qingyue froze, forgetting even to turn away.

Since she could remember, no boy had ever done something like this for her.

Lu Yi wouldn’t; Lu Ming certainly wouldn’t.

So Lu Qingyue had no experience with this kind of situation and was completely stunned.

She sat motionless, letting him wipe her lips clean, her bright, clear eyes wide and round, reflecting fragments of the overhead light—like tiny, scattered stars.

When he finally withdrew his hand and put some space between them, she seemed to come back to herself, startled and flustered, and whispered,

“Thank you?”

Cheng Xingye glanced at her, his voice light,

“You’re welcome.”

He’d only meant to be polite, but Lu Qingyue took him at his word.

No sooner had he finished than she pointed at the small Australian lobster and said softly,

“Brother Xingye, I want to eat that one too.”

Cheng Xingye: ???

Cheng Xingye: ...

He was at a loss. How could such a young, innocent-looking girl make such shameless demands seem so entirely natural?

There were people moving about in the observation ward, families whispering to patients. Though not private, the atmosphere was nonetheless warm and caring.

Cheng Xingye suspected he was being influenced by this gentle environment—otherwise, why would he feel such an inexplicable desire to indulge and be patient with a girl he’d only met a few times?

He let out a soft chuckle, but still reached for the box, deftly removing the lobster meat from its shell and placing it in her mouth.

His clear, low voice was almost lost in the background noise, his long, narrow eyes glinting with resigned amusement as he said,

“Am I serving an ancestor here?”