Doctor Lu Always Wants To Steal My Baby! Chapter 45
byChapter 45 It’s All Blame the Dependency
“Senior Brother, please come in. I actually have something I need to discuss with you as well.” He Chen said, leading Lu Changqing into the command room.
“What is it? You go first,” Lu Changqing replied.
“Regarding the next arrangements,” He Chen said, his tone calm and efficient.
Coupled with the military uniform he was wearing, for a moment, he seemed like a completely different person compared to the He Chen who had just been hugging and kissing He Leyan.
“We are heading straight to Hanxiao Star. I have already arranged for the Hanhe Sanatorium to vacate an entire building to temporarily house the patients. As for the new sanatorium site you want to select—”
He Chen opened the electronic sandbox and immediately pulled up the map of Hanxiao City, the main city of Hanxiao Star, for Lu Changqing to see.
“This is the mineral vein, and this is the spaceport.” He Chen pointed out two spots on the map. He knew that Lu Changqing building a new sanatorium was a feint, a cover for his true intentions, and naturally understood what Lu Changqing valued.
“Is anyone settled in this area?” Lu Changqing observed the region He Chen had circled.
“Hanxiao Star is a resource planet, so the population is small. This entire area is uninhabited,” He Chen answered.
“Then let’s tentatively decide on this location. We’ll confirm after surveying the geological structure,” Lu Changqing said, then turned to He Chen, about to speak, but He Chen cut him off—
“The development rights for the resource planet belong to the base. I can give Senior Brother maximum authority to ensure the safe and free use of this land. However—”
He Chen paused.
“But you have conditions,” Lu Changqing looked at him, seemingly unsurprised.
He Chen briefly avoided his gaze before looking back. “The conditions won’t be difficult for Senior Brother.”
“Tell me about them.”
“When the Pingshan Base is handed over, they will likely play tricks. I need some funding, a negotiation team, and also—” He Chen paused slightly.
“And a think tank for asset evaluation, corporate restructuring, industrial management, and planning,” Lu Changqing finished for him.
“…Senior Brother truly understands.”
“I agree. Two options: one, I directly arrange reliable people for you, and they will be in place within three days. Two, as you suggested, you find the people yourself, and I will provide the funding,” Lu Changqing said.
He Chen narrowed his eyes, considering.
The former was naturally simpler. Given Lu Changqing’s connections and judgment, the people he found would be ninety percent stronger than those He Chen could find himself, but—
“We are integrated now. The stability of Hanhe is also very important to me. Perhaps you could try giving me a little more trust.”
Lu Changqing seemed to know what He Chen was thinking.
“Then thank you, Senior Brother,” He Chen said, meeting Lu Changqing’s gaze. His face felt a little warm, but he still spoke, “Could I see the résumés of those people first?”
“Of course,” Lu Changqing said, pulling up the corner of his mouth. “You used to be more self-assured than you are now.”
“What?” He Chen didn’t understand immediately.
“When I was still L, you never held back when negotiating terms.”
“…I don’t hold back now either,” He Chen murmured. It was just that Lu Changqing had helped him so much recently. Although He Chen was thick-skinned, he still had some conscience and felt slightly guilty.
“Not holding back is right. You are not just He Chen; you are also the Commander of Hanhe Base. You have responsibilities to bear and goals you must achieve. I understand.”
Lu Changqing’s voice was calm, even his usual cool demeanor, yet it seemed to bore into the darkest depths of He Chen’s heart, prying open a small crack.
He Chen clenched his fingers, looked up, and changed the subject. “What did Senior Brother want to talk to me about?”
Lu Changqing looked at He Chen’s waist. “To ask how your wound is.”
He had been too busy all day yesterday to check He Chen’s injury.
He Chen hadn’t expected him to bring this up. He curled his fingers again. “It’s already healed.”
“If it’s healed, why are you running a fever?” Lu Changqing looked up at him.
“Who’s running a fever?” He Chen said, seeing Lu Changqing’s certainty, and raised a hand to touch himself.
After touching, his expression was strange. “How did you know?”
Because Lu Changqing had a special constitution, he could perceive minute temperature changes around him, but in the past, he had considered this redundant and kept the perception closed.
“Your complexion is off,” Lu Changqing said, pulling out wound medicine from his pocket and instructing He Chen to unbutton his shirt.
“No need!” He Chen covered his clothes, refusing immediately. “I’ll apply it myself when I get back.”
“Half the injury is on your back; you can’t see it yourself. Besides, if you apply it back there, aren’t you afraid Leyan will see it and worry?”
…He Chen was persuaded by the latter half of the sentence. He finally lifted his shirt, exposing his slightly bruised side.
Lu Changqing had him sit backward on the desk, then leaned down to apply the medicine, saying as he did so, “I brought oral medication. I’ll give it to you later.”
“Mhm,” He Chen responded, his eyes sweeping over Lu Changqing’s neck, then moving away as if unsure where to look.
It was all blame the dependency. He suddenly wanted to lean closer and smell Lu Changqing.
Also— “Senior Brother, you’re not very professional.”
“What?” Lu Changqing raised an eyebrow.
“The last big brother, he applied the medicine much more professionally than you.” It wasn’t this slow at all.
“…I apologize for the inconvenience,” Lu Changqing finally finished applying the medicine and helped him pull his shirt down.
Then he extended his hand. “Today’s treatment.”
He Chen hesitated before offering his wrist. “Senior Brother, why is my treatment cycle so long? How many days will it actually take?”
Lu Changqing was silent for a moment, then calmly replied, “If you want to treat the root cause, it naturally takes longer.”
“Furthermore, you haven’t relaxed and allowed me to enter the deeper layers of your mental domain. Shallow linkage has ordinary effects, so we can only compensate for quality with quantity.”
Is that so? He Chen looked at Lu Changqing, about to speak, when a knock came at the door.
Elder Fang stood outside, holding He Leyan’s hand, smiling. “The little guy is tired. He almost fell asleep sitting down.”
Tired? He Chen checked the time and quickly led Leyan inside. “Thank you, Elder Fang.”
“No need, no need. I have plenty of time. If you two are busy in the future, just send Leyan to me anytime. Right, Leyan?” He asked He Leyan the last part.
He Leyan nodded seriously. “Thank you, Grandpa Fang. Grandpa Fang tells good stories!”
Who tells bad stories then? He Chen thought, applying the question to himself.
“Sleep with Dad? Papa has things to do,” Lu Changqing said, looking at He Leyan. He Chen wasn’t fully recovered, and Lu Changqing wanted him to rest quietly.
He Leyan was obedient. Hearing that Papa was busy, he hesitated while clinging to Papa’s leg, but prepared to follow Dad.
But He Chen held his hand and wouldn’t let go. “It’s okay, Papa isn’t busy!”
Lu Changqing glanced at him, his eyes saying: No one is trying to steal your child.
That might not be true. He Chen held He Leyan tightly. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Lu Changqing said no more, kissed He Leyan, and left with Elder Fang.
“Papa goes to work, I sleep by myself,” He Leyan said obediently, tilting his small head up after they left.
He Chen, who was still watching Lu Changqing’s retreating back, snapped back to reality, rubbing his soft hair, his heart softening. “Papa isn’t busy.”
He hadn’t spent time with his cub all day. Counting back, he hadn’t spent much time with him in the previous days either, completely failing to achieve the “stable companionship” Elder Fang had mentioned.
“What story did Grandpa Fang tell you? Papa can tell stories too,” He Chen said. He had recently been motivated by shame and had crammed in many stories.
“Grandpa Fang told stories about when Grandpa Fang was little.”
In that case, forget it, he couldn’t tell those…
He Chen lifted He Leyan’s two little hands high, took off his outer clothes, and carried him to the bed in the command room’s small partition. “Papa will tell you a story about Wolf Holmes’s detective cases.”
He Leyan tilted his small head, looking at him carefully, half-skeptical. “Is it really Wolf Holmes?”
“Really, guaranteed.”
“Does he have wolf ears like Papa?”
“Yes…”
“He’s a great detective, about as smart as Papa…”
*
At the same time, on the Xia family’s warship, Xia Zhenye was watching his terminal, his face ashen.
The day after the Blood God Festival, a blogger with the ID “Song Ge Wo Hen Fang” (Brother Song, I’m Panicked) posted a video of a martial arts spar. The video title was nonsensical: On the Extent of Human Blindness. The video was censored, so the faces of the two fighters couldn’t be seen, but—it was easy to tell by the hands that one of them was Leyan’s father, He Chen.
Due to He Leyan’s national popularity, and because the spar in the video was genuinely exciting, the video went viral. The identity of the other person in the spar—Xia Zhenye—was naturally dug up.
Because of the video title, the “love triangle” melodrama involving He Chen, Xia Zhenye, and Fang Wenhuo was also dragged out.
And, judging from the video, He Chen’s martial arts skills were truly impressive, and his face also seemed quite handsome—the blogger’s mosaic was unprofessional, occasionally revealing a glimpse of an uncovered profile.
Although it was only a profile, it was inexplicably captivating. Coupled with his incredibly skilled martial arts, He Chen rode the wave of traffic. For the first time, he had his own real name and was no longer referred to only as “Leyan’s father.”
Later, someone else revealed that He Chen had genuinely dealt with two vicious pirate groups on Hanhe, not just going through the motions like many noble military corps. Coupled with the scandal about the He family’s child swap two days prior, it added a layer of sympathetic legend to He Chen… All these factors combined made He Chen a highly discussed “celebrity figure,” garnering significant praise and support.
As a result, opening the Star River Network now made it difficult not to see his name.
And the names of Xia Zhenye and Fang Wenhuo were often linked to his—as the ones being criticized.
When Xia Zhenye scrolled past another article that analyzed the spar video frame by frame, comparing his and He Chen’s martial prowess, he clenched his fist and smashed his optical computer with a bang.
Fang Wenhuo flinched slightly, tidying his clothes without daring to speak, only hearing Xia Zhenye dial a number. “I’m sending you some content. Spread it as fast as possible.”
“And—”
Fang Wenhuo felt Xia Zhenye’s cold, sinister gaze turn toward him. “There’s also a video.”
*
“What’s wrong?” Early in the morning, Blue Star time, He Chen received a message and stepped out of his cabin, meeting Lu Changqing, who lived across the corridor.
“Put on a jacket first,” Lu Changqing said, glancing at the sleeveless vest He Chen was wearing, then briefly looking away.
“Do you want to come inside to talk?” He Chen stepped back into the doorway.
“Afraid of waking Leyan.”
Lu Changqing insisted that He Chen put on clothes and come out.
“What happened?” He Chen guessed that Lu Changqing approaching him so early meant serious business.
“There were some rumors about you online last night, and the impact is quite significant.”
“What rumors?”
“They are already being handled. They concern events from three years ago.” Lu Changqing had initially intended to deal with it cleanly himself without mentioning it to He Chen, but after consideration, he knew he couldn’t hide it.
He Chen wouldn’t like him withholding information.
He filtered the information and sent He Chen a less inflammatory message.
“Someone is spreading rumors that the incident at Hanhe Base three years ago was due to you colluding with star pirates, and that the death of Leyan’s biological father, Han Jin, was also related to you.”
It wasn’t “related to him”; the message clearly stated it was “thanks to him.”
He Chen sneered. “Did the He family post it?”
He Chen immediately suspected the He family, as they knew the old events and were using them to attack him.
But Lu Changqing shook his head. “It might not be the He family.”
“Following closely behind that rumor last night, this video was also released—”
Lu Changqing showed He Chen a video lasting over a minute. Fang Wenhuo had filmed it, displaying two old scars on his body to the camera, claiming that he broke off the engagement because he couldn’t tolerate He Chen’s violent tendencies.
He added that he originally didn’t want to expose his privacy, but considering He Chen was now the father of a three-year-old child, he chose to step forward, hoping people would open their eyes.
At the end of the video, he specifically added, “Actually, I don’t think he’s suitable to be a guardian.”
He Chen laughed in anger. “How did I offend him?”
“You didn’t offend him, but you offended Xia Zhenye,” Lu Changqing said.
“Are you saying—”
“The Xia family’s main industry is in the entertainment sector. They are very skilled at manipulating public opinion. The fact that these two rumors spread so quickly even in the middle of the night clearly indicates professional orchestration.”
“What is his purpose in doing this? Does he want to take away my guardianship of Leyan?” He Chen frowned.
If that were the case, Xia Zhenye was quite clever, knowing what He Chen cared about most.
“He can’t take it away. Rumors are not evidence, so don’t worry,” Lu Changqing said, like an anchor stabilizing the situation.
He Chen felt a little relieved, but his brow remained furrowed.
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll meet trouble as it comes. They are deliberately slandering you to make you unhappy. Are you going to let them have their way?” Lu Changqing looked at him.
Of course not. He Chen looked up. “I’m not unhappy because I’m being slandered.”
Image was nothing; He Chen had never cared about it—except in front of his cub. Cough, and also, He Chen glanced at Lu Changqing. “I don’t have violent tendencies. I never even touched a corner of Fang Wenhuo’s clothes.”
“I know,” Lu Changqing replied. “It’s not because of this. What are you worried about?”
“I’m worried that these words might reach Leyan’s ears someday and make him misunderstand,” He Chen lowered his voice, scrolling through his terminal, seeing a comment that said the cub “recognized his father’s killer as his father,” and his brow twitched.
“Leyan’s terminal has child protection mode; he won’t see this kind of nonsense,” Lu Changqing said.
“That’s good,” He Chen seemed to sigh in relief, yet not entirely, his fingers still scrolling.
“Even if he saw it, Leyan wouldn’t easily believe it. He understands how good you are to him,” Lu Changqing said, interrupting his action.
“Mhm, I thought so too,” He Chen put away his terminal, adopting a confident demeanor.
“However, are you not planning to tell Leyan who his biological father is?”
“I will tell him,” He Chen tapped his fingers. “But I plan to wait until Leyan is a little older.”
“How old?” Lu Changqing asked.
“Eighteen?” He Chen replied.
Lu Changqing was silent for a moment.
“He’s too young. I’m afraid he won’t be able to handle it,” He Chen explained awkwardly.
Of course, besides that, there was a slightly selfish motive: Leyan had just started to become close to him, and he didn’t want to tell Leyan he wasn’t his biological father so soon. What if the child stopped being close to him?
Although he felt a bit guilty toward Brother Jin, he figured he could let him punch him a few times when they met below later.
“There’s nothing he can’t handle. Leyan is not as fragile as you imagine,” Lu Changqing said. “The key is, he might already know.”
??
“Know what?” He Chen asked, his face stiff.
“Know that you are not his biological father.”
Lu Changqing recounted the incident at the Medical Academy last time, when Leyan had an argument with another child.
“Wen Yi said that based on Leyan’s reaction, he might have known even earlier.”
“…Then why hasn’t he asked me?”
“Perhaps because whether he is biological or not isn’t that important to Leyan. What matters is that he is certain you love him.”
Lu Changqing looked at He Chen, as if seeing into his anxious heart. “You also don’t need to worry that Leyan will stop loving you because of Han Jin’s existence.”
“I’m not worried,” He Chen avoided his gaze.
“That’s good. You can take your time deciding when to tell Leyan, but rumors are hard to prevent. It would be better for him to hear about his biological father from you than from someone else.”
“I understand,” He Chen’s eyes flashed with thought. “Thank you, Senior Brother.”
“No need,” Lu Changqing said. “It’s enough that you know about this and are prepared. I will handle the rest.”
He Chen paused. “Is Senior Brother helping out of obligation?”
Lu Changqing looked at him deeply. “What compensation does Commander He wish to pay?”
He Chen was stumped.
Lu Changqing continued, “I am helping out of obligation. If the rumors truly spread, they could shake the morale of your troops and the public sentiment in Hanhe, which would be—”
“Detrimental to your important affairs.”
“I understand.” He Chen lowered his head for a moment, a trace of disappointment he couldn’t quite identify flashing across his face.
Lu Changqing watched his reaction, narrowing his eyes again.
“It’s still early. Go back inside and sleep a little more,” Lu Changqing said, naturally reaching out to straighten He Chen’s crooked collar. Then, without lingering, he turned and returned to his own cabin.
Only after closing the cabin door did his steps slow. He clenched his fingers, rubbing his fingertips, a gentle smile appearing in his eyes.
He Chen also returned to his cabin, closed the door, and raised his hand to touch his collar… and his neck, his face inexplicably flushed.
A moment later, Lu Changqing released his hand, his eyes deep and bright, and opened his terminal, systematically making arrangements.
He Chen lay back on the bed, embracing He Leyan’s small body, which automatically snuggled close. He pressed his face against the cub’s soft, sweet cheek, closed his eyes, and fell into thought.