met free Chapter 705 The Old Man
Chapter 705 The Old Man
As the sun sets and the cold moon rises, a sharp, clear light bathes the streets in silver.
Inside the carriage, Lin Ping appeared somewhat reserved, as the small space made it easy for the two to come into physical contact.
In her haste, Meng Qingge didn't think things through and forgot to prepare a separate carriage for Lin Ping. She couldn't let him jump off halfway.
"When will the moon be clear and bright? I raise my cup to ask the blue sky." Lin Ping wrote with deep feeling.
As an intellectual, his writing exudes a cultural aura, something Lin Ping cannot control.
"Hmm?" Meng Qingge glanced at him sideways.
Although she wasn't good at composing poems, she knew how to appreciate them, and this one line alone was enough to amaze her.
Lin Ping quickly scratched his head and explained with a grin, "I mean, there's a bright moon and a market here, so we should get together and drink."
The perfect atmosphere was shattered by Lin Ping himself, and Meng Qingge sighed.
"She doesn't even know how to read, so how could she compose poems? I was overthinking it."
The old horse in front of the cart took a steady step and it took quite a while to reach the old house.
Lin Ping was determined to be certain of one thing: the reason these young ladies from noble families rode in carriages was not to save time, but purely for sun protection in summer and frost protection in winter. This was definitely not as fast as his two legs.
Upon seeing Meng Qingge, the gatekeeper immediately let them pass, but glanced at Lin Ping from behind and began to whisper among themselves.
Lin Ping wasn't angry. When someone is too outstanding, it's inevitable that they will attract jealousy.
Lemon lovers are everywhere, but he killed them cleanly?
But he has his limits. If these sour grapes start spewing their sourness, then sorry, you might not be able to be sour anymore.
Led by Meng Qingge, the two entered the backyard and stood in front of the old man's door.
The old master loved peace and quiet, and after becoming seriously ill, he chose to live alone, with at most two maids serving him. Even the old lady rarely saw him.
Perhaps hearing the noise outside the door, a deep, resonant voice came from inside the house: "Come in, all of you."
The door was ajar, and a gentle push made a creaking sound. Meng Qingge's heart leaped into her throat, fearing that the harsh sound would worsen her grandfather's condition.
"We'll just put some grease on the hinges another day and they won't make any noise," Lin Ping said casually.
"Butter?" Meng Qingge found the word novel and didn't ask any further questions, assuming it was something that couldn't be served in a formal setting in the countryside.
After all, Lin Ping is closer to everyday life, and it's not surprising that he knows how to repair doors and windows.
"So you are Lin Wuqing?" Before Lin Ping could even kowtow, a chilling voice rang out.
Meng Zeyan's withered face had a pair of sunken eyes, and his whole body was like a withered piece of firewood, without any vitality. However, his innate domineering aura gave people a sense of oppression.
"Late-stage diabetes? No wonder this old man never shows his face." Lin Ping sighed.
In ancient times, diabetes was called "Xiao Ke Zheng" (wasting and thirsting disease), which was incurable and left patients with no choice but to wait for death.
Some quack doctors even gave up, saying with pity, "Eat and drink as usual. Life is only a few decades long, and you've already gone ahead of it."
Because of this mindset, some diabetic patients indulge in unrestrained eating and drinking, which ultimately worsens their condition and leads to premature death.
"It is indeed I, the junior," Lin Ping said politely, bowing.
"So it was you who made Qingchao kneel down? And made Junqiu come to apologize?" The old man was furious. His gleaming eyes were disproportionate to his thin, palm-sized face, making him look frightening.
Wei Junqiu was the old lady's name. No one except the old master had ever called her that, so Lin Ping could guess it.
"You've come to interrogate me?" Lin Ping sneered inwardly, but replied neither humbly nor arrogantly, "I dare not take credit for this."
Meng Qingge was startled. She knew the old man's personality; judging by Lin Ping's nonchalant attitude alone, he could easily kill him with a single blow.
The old man's eyes were like torches, staring intently at Lin Ping, like a cunning hunter about to prey on a vicious wolf.
Lin Ping wasn't going to back down either, his eyes wide open, not bothering to put on airs with X-rays.
The two stared at each other for a long time before the old man suddenly burst into laughter: "Hahaha, good lad, you've got guts, well done! Qingchao is arrogant and looks down on everyone, he should have been taught a lesson long ago."
Lin Ping laughed along, but in his heart he felt a greater sense of awe for the old man.
Despite his long illness and confinement to his bed, he still keeps track of every move the Meng family makes.
"Qingge, prepare the tea," the old man instructed.
He had no hobbies in his life except drinking tea, and it was precisely because the old lady was so good at ordering tea that she was able to rise to power.
Meng Qingge grew up by the old man's side, so her tea-making skills were naturally quite good.
She skillfully took out various utensils, but instead of using ready-made tea powder like Meng Qingchao, she roasted whole tea cakes over charcoal, then crushed and ground them into powder.
In the candlelight, her slender, jade-like fingers complemented the tea powder perfectly, appearing both white and delicate, breathtakingly beautiful.
Even though Lin Ping wasn't a hand fetishist, he couldn't help but watch for a long time.
"You like my Qingge?" the old man asked jokingly.
Lin Ping quickly withdrew his lewd gaze and chuckled, "Miss Meng is naturally beautiful and has a stunning appearance. There's a long line of young men who admire her. It would be a lie to say I don't like her, but unfortunately, my abilities don't allow it."
Even though Meng Qingge was a cold beauty who rarely smiled, she was amused by Lin Ping's flattery.
The old man did not delve into this topic, but continued to discuss Lin Ping's problem.
"Qingge said this is all your doing?"
"No wonder Meng Qingge was able to survive in such a predicament; it seems the old master was secretly supporting her." Lin Ping gave Meng Qingge a meaningful look, without any intention of taking the opportunity to spy on her.
Only Meng Qingge knew about his relationship with Qingfeng Tower. Even though the old master had many eyes and ears, he had no way to get to the bottom of it.
It was clearly Meng Qingge who said it herself.
It seems that this grandfather and grandson still have many secrets.
"It's just a favor. Even without my help, Qingfeng Tower would have chosen the Meng family. Han Jiji is a businessman and wouldn't do a losing business. He must know that Miss Meng is trustworthy and righteous, which is why he cooperated with her."
"In business, sincerity comes first, ability second."
Lin Ping explained his business philosophy with an absurd and unrestrained expression.
"Oh? You seem to have quite a bit of experience." The old man nodded, without asking any further questions.
He's practically buried to the grave; he's living one day at a time, so there's no need to overthink things.
The purpose of this meeting was simply to vet Meng Qingge.
At this moment, Meng Qingge arrived carrying a black Jianzhan teacup filled with tea soup that was covered in white foam.
The moment the teacup was placed on the table, a delicate fragrance wafted out.
"I love drinking the tea Qingge ordered, and pairing it with this sweet fruit is simply divine." The old man held a teacup in one hand and picked up a sweet fruit in the other.
"A diabetic eating candied fruit? Does he have a death wish?" Lin Ping exclaimed in shock.
Even those who aren't doctors know that diabetics shouldn't eat sweets.
He was about to stop him when he suddenly realized that ancient research on diabetes was limited and that people didn't know that diabetics shouldn't eat sweets. Forcibly stopping them might backfire.
"I think this tea is just so-so," Lin Ping said with a dismissive smile.