Noon.
Lin Qingya took the opportunity to visit the hospital, just in time to see Zeng Rou carrying the meal Aunt Yun had prepared into the ward. She quickly washed her hands and started feeding Qin Hai.
After a while, all that could be heard from Qin Hai's mouth was:
"Wife, I want sweet and sour ribs!"
"Wife, I want fish!"
"Wife, I want lobster!"
"Wife, I want soup!"
...
Qin Hai finished his meal comfortably without lifting a finger, then burped contentedly and pouted, waiting for Lin Qingya to wipe his mouth for him.
Lin Qingya gave him a look of exasperation and, barely able to contain her laughter, pulled out a tissue to wipe off the grease from his mouth.
Zeng Rou couldn't stand it any longer and scornfully said, "Qin, your hands aren't broken, so why must Qingya wait on you hand and foot?"
Qin Hai said proudly, "I like it, Qingya likes it, and what business is it of yours?"