Chapter Twenty-One: Even the Overbearing CEO Eats Street-Side Savory Crepes

The two of them sat right on the roadside to eat their jianbing guozi, completely devoid of any airs.

Ji Han had been furious, but after Song Miaoke’s persuasion, his anger had subsided somewhat. He knew Su Zhihan’s tongue was always this sharp, so there was no need to take her words too much to heart. Besides, the fact that they had rescued Miaoke so smoothly this time was largely thanks to her. Thinking this over, his irritation vanished entirely. He realized it had been wrong of him to give her the cold shoulder earlier, so he decided to call and apologize.

As soon as the call connected, he didn’t hear a voice, but rather a rhythmic crunching sound.

Ji Han: "...Where are you?"

Su Zhihan took a bite of her crepe: "Crunch, crunch... I'm by the side of the road... crunch, crunch... eating jianbing guozi. Do you want one?"

Ji Han was left speechless. He had assumed she was angry, but judging by her tone, not only was she not upset, but her appetite was also perfectly fine.

Hearing no response from his end, Su Zhihan continued: "Aren't you eating? If not, I'm hanging up."

Ji Han: "I am! Send me your location!"

Two minutes later, Ji Han and Song Miaoke joined the roadside squatting squad. The four of them stood there, each holding a jianbing guozi, eating with great relish.

The vendor finally couldn't take it anymore: "Uh, there’s a lot of dust on the roadside. Maybe you should move somewhere else to eat?"

With cars constantly passing by, dust was everywhere. These four looked well-dressed and attractive, yet their behavior was so grounded that they were practically eating the dust itself.

Su Zhihan chirped a cheerful response to the vendor, then nimbly spun around to face away from the road. That solved the problem—she really was clever!

Ji Han, Song Yu, and Song Miaoke: "..."

With no other choice, they followed suit and turned around too.

The vendor was left completely dumbfounded. The way these young people’s minds worked was truly beyond his understanding.

By the time they finished their food, Su Zhihan and Song Miaoke were fine, but Ji Han and Song Yu were in a sorry state. Their suits were dust-magnets; they were covered in a layer of grime, and even their leather shoes looked like they had been sanded down. This hospital was the closest to the warehouse, located away from the city center near a construction site, so the dust was particularly thick.

Seeing their disheveled appearance, Su Zhihan pulled out her phone and snapped a few photos. Song Yu even cooperated by striking a pose. Ji Han, however, looked reluctant; he had no idea how many unflattering photos of him were already on her phone. In the past, he might have made a fuss, but since there were already so many, a couple more hardly mattered.

"Since everyone is safe, let's go. Once we're back, we can take a proper shower and get some rest!" Today had been a close call.

While Su Zhihan and Song Yu could rest upon returning home, Ji Han and Song Miaoke were not so lucky. Madam Ji had summoned them to the old family mansion, and they were likely in for a lecture. Ji Han had originally hoped to have Su Zhihan join them, thinking her presence would compel his mother to be more restrained and less harsh toward Miaoke, perhaps even letting Su Zhihan put in a good word for her.

But when he called to ask, Su Zhihan shut him down immediately. "Listen here, big guy, solve your own problems. I’ve already cleaned up one mess for you; you can’t expect me to keep wiping your backside every time you make a mistake!"

Ji Han was disgusted by the description, and the imagery it conjured—himself bent over with Su Zhihan standing behind him with toilet paper—was so vivid that he got goosebumps and hung up the phone instantly.

However, things didn't turn out as badly as he had feared. Madam Ji’s attitude toward Song Miaoke was significantly better than before. She kept the conversation focused strictly on the day's events and didn't target Miaoke unfairly. Song Miaoke, who had braced herself for ridicule and scolding, was surprised by the relatively mild reception. As they left the mansion, they both felt a bit dazed. Was it really over? They could hardly believe it. Song Miaoke even pinched herself; it hurt, so it wasn't a dream.

"Ji Han, your mother’s attitude toward me really is much better. Am I dreaming?"

Ji Han rubbed her pinched, reddened hand, feeling a pang of sympathy. "Why pinch yourself? Your hand is all red. You aren't dreaming; my mother’s attitude really has improved. Su Zhihan has been coming over to keep my dad company while he fishes lately; maybe she helped by saying some good things. Plus, with the situation regarding Lin Pingting, I think that’s why my mother has changed."

Su Zhihan was the type to have a sharp tongue but a soft heart; she hated being ordered around, but Ji Han felt he had finally grasped her personality. Every time they argued or faced a crisis, Ji Han and Song Miaoke’s relationship seemed to grow sweeter, followed by a long, blissful period.

Su Zhihan thought she could finally relax, but it wasn't long before trouble struck again. Another middle-of-the-night call—and it was Ji Han again.

Su Zhihan was just about to start cursing when Song Miaoke’s tearful voice came through. "Zhihan, I didn't want to call you at this hour, but I don't know who else to talk to. Something happened to Ji Han!"

Su Zhihan was still half-asleep and dazed. Wasn't this Ji Han’s number? Why was Song Miaoke speaking?

Song Miaoke had called not only Su Zhihan but also Song Yu, as they were the best friends she knew Ji Han had. Since both lived relatively close, they arrived quickly. As soon as they entered the bedroom, a distinct odor hit them.

Su Zhihan: "Ugh! Did you two soil the bed? It reeks!"

Song Miaoke, blushing, pulled them inside and shut the door. From the bathroom came Ji Han’s weak voice, accompanied by a series of explosive, wet sounds.

Su Zhihan and Song Yu stood in silence for two seconds before Su Zhihan asked in shock, "Is Ji Han setting off firecrackers in the bathroom?"

Song Miaoke whispered, blushing, "No, he has diarrhea."

Song Yu drew a sharp breath. Could diarrhea really be that loud? It was Su Zhihan’s first time seeing a male lead from a novel look so pathetic. Truly, characters were best left on the page; once they hit the real world, they still had to eat, drink, and defecate.

Ji Han’s desperate voice drifted out: "Stop talking and think of a way to get me to the hospital! This cannot get out!"

As he spoke, the explosive noises continued unabated. Song Yu’s facial muscles twitched uncontrollably; caught between brotherly concern and an irrepressible urge to laugh, he was in agony.

Su Zhihan yelled toward the bathroom: "Then hurry up and wipe yourself clean and put on your pants! If you don't clean yourself up, how are we supposed to go in there and carry you out!"