Assistant Bai Really Does Have a Three Year Old Child - Chapter 4

Bai Tan strode to the main entrance of L.W Media. His gaze pierced through the night, where he could faintly discern a darker shadow lurking in the corner of the wall.

He walked over and saw that the man who had previously shown signs of pain had not yet left. Earlier, the man had been able to lean against the wall for support, but now he was sitting entirely on the ground, one hand clutching his abdomen, his head lowered deeply.

“Are you feeling unwell? Can I help you, or should I call an ambulance for you?” he asked softly.

Clearly, seeing the man’s rejection of him earlier, he should have left. Yet, for some reason perhaps because he was simply not born with a cold nature after thinking it over, he had turned back.

Li Wenyan let out a heavy breath from his nose and waved his hand, signaling Bai Tan to go wherever it was cooler.

This time, Bai Tan did not leave.

He placed the insulated food jar at his feet, knelt down, and supported Li Wenyan’s shoulder. Letting the man press his entire weight against him, Bai Tan exerted all his strength to lift him up.

“Can you stand? I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Li Wenyan used his last shred of strength to push him aside, his tone unfriendly. “I said I’m fine.”

“People who are fine aren’t in so much distress that they can’t stand. You need to be good; you’ll only get better if you go to the hospital and listen to the doctor, right?”

As Bai Tan spoke, he unconsciously thought of his six-year-old nephew. That mischievous little brat was always like this when he was sick, he would refuse to take medicine no matter what, saying it was too bitter, and had to be coaxed properly.

Li Wenyan’s fingers paused.

Right?

What a strange tone. Did he think he was a three-year-old?

But the strength in his body had been completely drained. He could no longer struggle and allowed Bai Tan to support him as they hailed a taxi.

Upon examination at the hospital, it was acute gastroenteritis.

“No matter how busy work is, you must eat properly. You shouldn’t mistreat your own body above all else,” the doctor cautioned as he set up an IV drip for Li Wenyan.

“Does he need to be hospitalized?” Bai Tan asked.

“It’s not a major issue. Staying overnight for observation is fine. Who is paying the fees?”

In his groggy state, Li Wenyan, lying on the hospital bed, heard the conversation between Bai Tan and the doctor.

He forced his eyes open and saw Bai Tan observing the anti-inflammatory IV bag, asking the doctor if it was dripping too fast and if the patient would be able to handle it.

“This type of anti-inflammatory medicine contains steroids; the patient might feel nauseous or dizzy. It’s best to eat something so it won’t be as uncomfortable.”

Once the doctor left, Bai Tan and Li Wenyan’s eyes met.

Li Wenyan slowly turned his head to look out the window.

“Is there anything you want to eat, or should I have your family bring something?” Bai Tan had intended to leave just like that, but seeing Li Wenyan lying on the bed all alone this tall man with long limbs looking so out of place and profoundly pitiful in this scene he decided to ask one more thing.

Li Wenyan turned his head back. His originally sharp brows softened slightly.

“No need. I have no appetite. You should go back. Thank you.”

Bai Tan lifted the insulated food jar.

“Alright. I’ll leave my number for you. If your family can’t make it and something comes up, just call me.”

Li Wenyan lowered his head. His body felt weak, but because of those words, a flicker of light appeared in his eyes for no reason.

Bai Tan freed one hand to take out his phone. His gaze suddenly landed on the insulated jar in his hand.

“By the way, I have some porridge and side dishes I made here. If you don’t mind, please eat them.” Bai Tan cupped the walls of the jar with both hands to feel the temperature. “It might be a bit cold. I’ll go borrow the hospital cafeteria’s equipment to heat it up.”

“No need,” Li Wenyan called out to him. “It doesn’t matter if it’s cold.”

Bai Tan let out a soft sigh of relief and sat down beside him. He opened the jar, and the dense aroma of pumpkin porridge wafted out, bringing with it a bit of steam.

“Fortunately, it’s still hot.”

He raised the small table over the hospital bed and laid out a full spread.

There was golden, glossy pumpkin porridge, a green spinach and chicken meatball soup, and a small dish of fruit and vegetable salad.

It was all very homely, stomach-soothing food.

Li Wenyan stared at the food for a long time before looking up at Bai Tan with an inexplicable expression.

Coming prepared?

“You made this?” he asked.

Bai Tan nodded. “I originally made it to visit my grandmother in the hospital, but she probably wouldn’t like it.”

To say she “wouldn’t like it” was an understatement; it was more that she was unwilling to see Bai Tan at all. Since his parents divorced, his once-kind grandmother always called his mother a “vixen” and “fickle” to his face, even saying that “snakes and rats nest together,” and that she had given birth to a son who applied makeup every day and didn’t act like a man.

Although Bai Tan didn’t know when he had ever “applied makeup,” she was his grandmother after all, and she was elderly, so he didn’t want to argue with her.

His grandmother was hospitalized for stomach cancer, and since his father wasn’t around, he and his eldest uncle took turns caring for the old lady.

However, if he hadn’t been quick today and snatched the food jar from his grandmother’s high-raised hand, this man likely wouldn’t be eating dinner, and the hospital nurses would likely have much more work to do.

He had intended to take it back and eat it himself, but he had specifically gone to the entrance of the entertainment company to gather material and happened to encounter Li Wenyan, who had collapsed from his stomach ailment.

Li Wenyan picked up the spoon, his fingertips tightly gripping the handle.

When he said he didn’t want to eat, he wasn’t throwing a tantrum; he meant it literally. He had been a well-known singer in the industry, and after retiring, he founded this entertainment company. It was truly difficult to prop up a company alone, and the intense pressure had caused his sense of taste to fail. From that day on, even if top international chefs prepared delicacies for him, he found them difficult to swallow.

One thing led to another, and he had ruined his stomach.

But seeing Bai Tan sitting by the bed, watching him earnestly, he thought it over and decided he had to give the man face. After all, the other party was acting out of kindness.

He scooped a spoonful of the spinach and chicken meatball soup and slowly brought it to his mouth.

In that instant, his low-cast eyes suddenly snapped up.

A layer of light masked the darkness in his pupils. He gazed at Bai Tan slowly, his eyes gradually widening.

Bai Tan spread a folded tissue on the edge of the table. He didn’t ask if the other man found it delicious; after all, everyone’s sense of taste and perception is different. If the man found it unpalatable but felt forced to offer praise against his conscience, Bai Tan would feel bad himself.

“It’s very delicious. How did you make it?” Li Wenyan suddenly asked.

Bai Tan’s eyes brightened. He leaned in closer and spoke in a soft, gentle voice.

“These chicken meatballs are made by mincing chicken thigh meat into a fine paste, then poaching them in a broth made from chicken bones. The spinach was also bought from the morning market early today. Although it doesn’t look as pretty, it was freshly picked by farmers and brought from the village. It’s healthier and fresher than what’s sold in supermarkets…”

He explained everything one by one, down to the smallest detail.

After his parents divorced, no one was willing to listen to his rambling like this anymore.

Li Wenyan stirred the spinach soup with his spoon, listening to him speak while he ate. Occasionally, he would look up and see that although Bai Tan’s features were delicate and understated, his micro-expressions were very rich.

For no reason at all, Li Wenyan smiled slightly.

It wasn’t just the soup; the pumpkin porridge was soft and sweet, and the fruit and vegetable salad had some sort of dressing that was completely different from what he had tasted before it was exceptionally sweet and bursting with juice.

It wasn’t until Bai Tan quieted down that Li Wenyan glanced at the wall clock; the hand was pointing exactly at eleven.

“It’s getting late. You should go home and rest early. Thank you for today.” He stacked the empty dishes back into the insulated jar. “I’ll return it to you after I wash it.”

Bai Tan took the jar. “It’s okay, I’ll wash it myself. I was going to wash it anyway.”

He stood up and left his number, once again reminding Li Wenyan to call him if anything happened.

“You haven’t told me your name yet for my contacts,” Li Wenyan called out to him again.

“Bai Tan. ‘Bai’ as in white, ‘Tan’ as in sandalwood. And you?”

Li Wenyan’s hand, which was inputting the contact name, suddenly froze.

He finally remembered why Bai Tan’s voice sounded familiar.

Earlier that afternoon, someone had called to recommend themselves, saying his name was Bai Tan. And at that time, he had no interest in hearing the self-introduction and had hung up the phone.

Li Wenyan paused for a moment before saying, “Where do you work? If it’s convenient to tell me, I’d like to have a commemorative silk banner sent to your company.”

“I’m a freelancer. A banner would be too polite,” Bai Tan laughed.

Li Wenyan’s fingers lightly brushed the edge of the table, appearing somewhat distracted. “If you are looking for a job, one of the artists under me happens to be missing an assistant.”

Bai Tan was overjoyed but quickly noticed the key point. “You are President Li? Then the call I made this afternoon… didn’t it go to you?”

“It wasn’t me. I was busy. The secretary took it.” Li Wenyan looked away from his face. “I’ll remind her next time to be more polite.”

Bai Tan’s smile deepened, his eyes curving like crescent moons. He gave Li Wenyan a polite bow to express his gratitude.

Finally, he urged, “When the IV is done, remember to press this call button to ask the nurse to remove the needle. For food, you should eat things that are good for the stomach try to have them soft and overcooked so they are easy to digest. Call me if anything happens, okay?”

Li Wenyan watched his departing figure, his gaze following him as he left. Then, he shook his head with a smile.

Okay?

He really was treating him like a three-year-old.

Bai Tan bought some small photocards of Huo Yang at a high price from a second-hand trading app.

Times had changed. They used to call these “merchandise,” but now they were called “goods.”

On the shimmering laser photocards, the man in the photo wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and held a several-month-old Golden British Shorthair cat in his arms. His slender fingers lightly cradled the cat’s head, and the kitten cooperated perfectly, leaning into his chest and looking up at him.

He kept his eyes downcast, his crow-feather-like long lashes casting shadows over his pupils, hiding his gaze. Yet, a sense of endless tenderness emanated from his lips as they slightly brushed against the cat.

It was exactly the same as the male protagonist persona Bai Tan had envisioned.

Elegant and pure, gentle and kind.

Li Wenyan sent a message saying that Huo Yang would be filming in the studio tomorrow. He had already spoken with the manager and told Bai Tan to go directly to find Huo Yang.

Bai Tan took his sketchbook, his finger tapping against it with a hint of nonchalance.

Readers said his writing lacked logic, so he would go see what “real-world logic” looked like.

Readers said his characterizations were OOC (Out of Character), so he would observe a person until they were perfectly fleshed out.

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