The Game of Life

Chapter 594: Chapter 592: Give Up on Treatment

Jiang Weiming woke up, and everything got back on track. Jiang Wei had just bought a hot water bottle when the doctor and nurse came to notify Jiang Weiming that he was to be moved to another room. After everyone else finished their meal and returned, they didn’t just stay huddled in the sickroom; they started to keep busy. Jiang Zaidi delivered the items to the room and then went back to work at the company, and the others either went back to handle their own business or went to help look for nearby housing.

Jiang Weiming needed to stay in the hospital for at least a month. During this period, apart from having a nursing aide, someone needed to be in the sickroom around the clock. The Jiang family lived a bit far from the hospital and it was inconvenient to go back and forth, so everyone decided to temporarily rent a small house near the hospital as a place to rest.

There were quite a few houses available for short-term rent near the Benevolent Doctor hospital, which Jiang Jianshe and Jiang Jianguo found out after asking other patients’ families, and went off to view the properties.

By the afternoon, only Jiang Weiguo and Jiang Feng remained in the sickroom. At one point, Zhang Guanghang even made a special trip to visit Jiang Weiming and helped Jiang Feng get in touch with the nursing aide who had previously taken care of Xia Mushi; the aide would be able to start work tomorrow morning.

Zhang Guanghang stayed in the hospital for about an hour before he left to prepare for work.

After Zhang left, Jiang Feng received a call from Jiang Yong, who finally breathed a sigh of relief when he learned that Jiang Weiming had woken up and his condition was not too bad. He told Jiang Feng that he had already requested leave from Xu Cheng, booked a flight for that same night, and would be able to get to the hospital the next morning.

Jiang Feng had just hung up with Jiang Yong when he received a call from Xu Cheng. As a devout patron, Xu Cheng truly cared for the health of each culinary master. After learning that Jiang Weiming had woken up and inquiring about his condition, Xu Cheng said that he and Han Guishan would visit Jiang Weiming at the hospital in the evening.

At first, Jiang Feng thought Xu Cheng’s call was the end of the well-wishing, but it turned out to be just the beginning. After Xu Cheng’s call, Jiang Feng received phone calls every few minutes from colleagues and patrons concerned about Jiang Weiming’s current condition, with a few from suppliers as well. Jiang Feng had no idea how they got his mobile number.

The Jiang family had not deliberately kept the news secret. There was no need to hide such things, but the spread of the news was hastened because of Xu Cheng. Anyone with even a small connection to Taifeng Building, out of goodwill or curiosity, called to inquire about Jiang Weiming’s condition.

The reason everyone called Jiang Feng was not that they knew he was the Taifeng Building’s behind-the-scenes owner, but because Jiang Feng was the public relations spokesperson for Taifeng Building’s kitchen and Jiang Weiming’s grandnephew. They couldn’t reach Jiang Weiguo, and Jiang Jiankang had no presence, so if they didn’t ask Jiang Feng, who else would they ask?

Thus, Jiang Feng spent the afternoon outside the sickroom on the phone, continually receiving calls until his phone ran out of battery and he had to ask a neighboring bed’s nursing aide for a charger to catch a break.

As for Jiang Wei, after hearing there was a small dining hall at the Benevolent Doctor hospital for the use of patients’ families, he inquired with the attending physician about what Jiang Weiming could currently eat and joyfully went off to buy groceries, ready to show off his cooking skills for his master.

The two-person room was considerably nicer than the four-person one and was relatively quieter. Even the LCD TV hanging on the wall seemed larger than the ones in the four-person rooms.

The person sharing a sickroom with Jiang Weiming was a young man who looked to be in his twenties, with only one nursing aide taking care of him. Since Jiang Weiming had been wheeled into the room, the young man had been propped up in bed watching TV. Jiang Feng thought he likely had just had surgery as he could barely move; otherwise, he would be lying down playing with his phone rather than watching TV.

By 5 o’clock in the afternoon, the elder had also gone home.

He told Jiang Feng to stay in the room with Jiang Weiming and not to go back to work at Taifeng Building; he could just head home in the evening.

Jiang Feng was now the only one left beside Jiang Weiming’s bed.

Jiang Weiming had already taken off the breathing mask from his face, his lips still devoid of much color, his voice barely audible when he spoke. In his own words, he felt so devoid of strength that he was tired even just lying down, and couldn’t play with his phone just like the young man in the next bed.

After Jiang Weiguo left, Jiang Weiming did the same as the young man in the next bed, lying there watching TV.

The young man in the next bed was watching an American drama series, and Jiang Feng glanced over and saw it was a crime investigation show, which he reckoned Jiang Weiming would like. He remembered last New Year’s, Jiang Weiming watching such American crime series at home.

The hospital room fell silent, with only the sound of the television remaining.

Perhaps it was the silence that made the young man in the next bed uneasy, he tilted his head, not watching the television, but staring at Jiang Weiming instead, though Jiang Feng wasn’t sure what he could see from his angle beyond the blanket.

“Grandpa, do you want to change the channel?” the young man asked.

“No need,” Jiang Weiming replied.

“Maybe switch to a domestic drama? I’m afraid you can’t see the subtitles on the TV,” the young man persisted considerately.

“No need, I can understand,” Jiang Weiming continued.

The young man fell silent, and from his expression, Jiang Feng felt he didn’t believe Jiang Weiming’s words.

So Jiang Feng sat by the hospital bed, accompanying Jiang Weiming as they watched TV together, occasionally asking if he needed some hot water. Like this, two hours passed until Jiang Weisheng came up carrying a newly bought lunchbox filled with hot dinner just out of the pot.

“Master, you haven’t eaten anything all day. I asked the doctor, and he said you should eat light for the next few days. So I cooked you some vegetable porridge and steamed a bowl of egg custard. I added some Xiaomi while cooking the porridge. In a few days, when you can have chicken soup, I’ll stew some chicken for you,” Jiang Weisheng said, “I was afraid the egg custard would taste bland, so I drizzled some soy sauce on top.”

“That’s very thoughtful,” Jiang Weiming said with a smile, and as Jiang Weisheng helped him sit up to eat, Jiang Weiming refused the help.

He might not have much strength, but he wasn’t at the point where he needed someone else to feed him.

“Feng, you must be hungry too, take a few bites of the egg and then have some porridge to fill you up,” Jiang Weisheng called out, having made extra porridge and egg custard.

“Thank you, Mr. Jiang,” Jiang Feng said and went to the cabinet for the new bowls and chopsticks.

When it came to cooking porridge, Jiang Weisheng was far from matching Jiang Feng. To be exact, since Jiang Feng was crowned as the Porridge King, he had yet to meet anyone who could outshine him in cooking porridge.

Jiang Feng could tell just by eye that Jiang Weisheng’s porridge today was too thick, and the fire control of the egg custard also seemed off. Jiang Weisheng’s cooking skills couldn’t be considered good, but it shouldn’t have been this bad with the simple vegetable porridge and egg custard—a clear sign that his mood had affected his cooking. Jiang Weiming’s hospitalization had impacted him the most.

Jiang Feng first tried the vegetable porridge, which tasted average, typical of what one would find in an ordinary small eatery. He wolfed down a small bowl of porridge and then scooped up a small spoonful of egg custard.

Upon tasting it, salty.

Jiang Feng almost couldn’t maintain his facial expression as he frowned, this was probably the saltiest steamed egg he had ever eaten in his life. He wasn’t sure whether Jiang Weisheng accidentally put salt in it while distracted during cooking, or forgot he had already added soy sauce and did so two or three times more in the end.

Either way, the egg custard was salty.

Incredibly salty, maddeningly so.

Then Jiang Weiming spoke, “The porridge is a bit thick, but the egg is okay.”

His expression was completely normal.

Jiang Feng couldn’t help but secretly praise in his heart, Granduncle Weiming truly lived up to his name, managing to keep a straight face and lie through his teeth to boost his disciple’s confidence.

“Master, how is the egg foo young? Is the salinity okay? The doctor said you can’t eat too salty foods now, so I only added a little bit of soy sauce,” said Jiang Weisheng.

Jiang Feng: ?

“It’s a bit bland, but just follow the doctor’s instructions,” Jiang Weiming said, maintaining his composure as he continued eating the egg foo young.

Jiang Feng was initially a bit confused, but then it hit him that Jiang Weiming’s sense of taste must have seriously deteriorated; an overly salty egg foo young might seem like it has a normal taste to him, and wouldn’t pose much of a challenge to eat.

“By the way, Feng, is your phone turned off? Your dad called me earlier to say it seemed like your phone was off. He mentioned that Lu Sheng, the owner of Yonghe House, wants to visit the Master tonight and wanted to give you a heads-up,” said Jiang Weisheng.

Only then did Jiang Feng remember he had a phone. He had been so engrossed in watching TV earlier that he had forgotten to turn it on.

Jiang Feng quickly powered on his phone, and then he discovered a long list of missed calls and text messages. A good number of people had called to inquire about Jiang Weiming’s condition after his phone ran out of battery, but he hadn’t received any of them.

After some thought, Jiang Feng organized his words and posted a reassuring message on his Moments, informing all his friends in the circle that Jiang Weiming was in good condition and all was well. He didn’t want to go through the experience of answering calls like he had that afternoon ever again.

What Jiang Feng didn’t know was that as he posted a WeChat Moment about Jiang Weiming being safe and sound from the hospital ward, another person in a hospital ward scrolling through his Moments had a grandfather who was not safe and sound.

Sun Guanyun had already been lying in the ICU for a week, with half his body covered with yellow soil.

After reading Jiang Feng’s Moment, Sun Jikai initially wanted to give it a like, but after a moment’s hesitation, he decided not to press the button and let his phone screen go dark as he slipped it back into his pocket.

Sun Jikai was immediately aware of Jiang Weiming’s hospitalization due to acute heart failure. Although he had left Taifeng Building, he had never left the Taifeng work group, and neither had Jiang Feng and the rest kicked him out. The chat in the Taifeng Building work group hadn’t stopped all day today, and with just a glance, Sun Jikai could understand the situation’s background.

“Mr. Sun, you can go change and see him now,” the new attending physician for Sun Guanyun came out from the ward and said to Sun Jikai.

“How is my grandfather’s condition now?”

The attending physician shook his head at Sun Jikai.

Even though Sun Jikai was well aware that Sun Guanyun was merely surviving on life support in the ICU, his mood still involuntarily dropped a bit, and he remained silent.

“Although Elder Sun is currently unable to speak, he still has basic awareness. You might want to talk to him more,” the physician said.

“Thank you,” Sun Jikai nodded, changed clothes, and entered the ward.

Sun Guanyun was now covered in tubes. His lung function had almost completely failed, and he needed the help of a machine to breathe normally and expel carbon dioxide from his lungs. With a tube in his mouth, he couldn’t even smile at Sun Jikai, merely indicating with his eyes that he saw him come in.

Sun Jikai had wanted to talk to Sun Guanyun about what his uncle had been up to today, but on second thought, with his grandfather having only a few days to live, he decided against bothering him with such worldly worries. It would be better to share some happy news, such as Jiang Weiming’s narrow escape from death.

He felt that was the only piece of good news he could share.

“Grandpa, this morning Mr. Jiang Weiming was hospitalized due to acute heart failure,” Sun Jikai began.

Sun Guanyun’s gaze faltered.

“But he was lucky, he had the attack in the ER, and the rescue was timely. His condition has stabilized now, I just saw Jiang Feng’s…” Sun Jikai began to ramble on about what he knew, thinking that what Sun Guanyun would love to hear most at this time was probably about someone he knew being out of danger in the hospital due to prompt treatment.

This was something he was destined not to have.

As expected, Sun Guanyun was pleased with the news. Although he could not express it through speech or gestures, the look in his eyes was enough to show he was happy for Jiang Weiming.

After talking about Jiang Weiming, Sun Jikai tried to think of other happy things to tell Sun Guanyun, but he could not think of any recent events worth celebrating. Business at Jubao Building was declining day by day due to unstable morale, his uncle continued his petty schemes, and in the past few days, his mother had been restless as if in a hurry to divide the inheritance as if Sun Guanyun were already dead.

All of these things, he didn’t wish to tell Sun Guanyun.

After racking his brain, he could only talk to Sun Guanyun about the events that had taken place at Taifeng Building he had seen in the work group chat a while ago.

But as he spoke, Sun Jikai realized that Sun Guanyun had become distracted.

“Grandpa, grandpa,” Sun Jikai called, and then Sun Guanyun came back to his senses.

Then Sun Guanyun suddenly became agitated, struggling as if he wanted to pull out the tubes attached to him. Sun Jikai didn’t catch on to his intention, thinking Sun Guanyun was suddenly having a seizure, and hurriedly went out to call the doctor.

About ten minutes later, Sun Guanyun’s attending physician walked out of the ward, looking serious.

“Doctor, how is my grandfather? What happened to him just now? Why did he suddenly convulse? He’s never convulsed before,” Sun Jikai panicked.

“Elder Sun hasn’t shown any obvious deterioration, his condition is about the same as before, but…” the doctor hesitated, “he wants to pull out the tubes.”

“Pull out the tubes?” Sun Jikai couldn’t believe his ears. He thought either the doctor was crazy or he was. Considering Sun Guanyun’s current condition, pulling out the tubes would leave him with only one possible outcome: death.

“Yes, Elder Sun wants to pull out the tubes and move to a regular ward, to give up on treatment.”