Rebirth: I Became Mr.President's Beloved-Chapter 68 - Making Ginger Soup for Mr. Song

Chapter 68 -68 Making Ginger Soup for Mr. Song

Chapter 68 -68 Making Ginger Soup for Mr. Song

“It’s not really handling the matter.” Ji Ming honestly said: “I just made a phone call to the public security sub-bureau affiliated with your school. The public security bureaus now have cyber monitoring teams specifically to deal with online rumors. If the contents of those posts are investigated and found to be untrue, the police will naturally take responsibility for deleting them.”

Tang Li knew all too well that if it had been up to her to report the incident, the outcome probably wouldn’t have been the same.

Shen Na and Yu Sui were taken away by the police because of this call made by Ji Ming.

This could be akin to the adage “what the superior says, the subordinate follows”.

Once a person higher up issues an instruction, those below will fully extend and interpret this instruction, determined to handle the matter promptly and beautifully.

Though Ji Ming worked alongside Song Baiyan, he still held a military rank.

If one day he wished to return to the army and don his military uniform, he would be a Major with bona fide appointment.

“Furthermore—” Ji Ming slightly paused, then continued: “it’s also Mr. Song’s instruction. Knowing that you were being attacked on forums, Mr. Song was inevitably somewhat worried.”

Tang Li’s fingers, which were holding a water bottle, unconsciously tightened.

Her gaze fell onto the ginger in Ji Ming’s hand, and she asked a question.

“Mr. Song was up all night because of official business, caught a bit of a cold, and he hasn’t had proper rest today, so I am preparing to make ginger soup for him to expel the chill.”

“Do you know how to do it?” If he knew, he wouldn’t have been fussing around in the kitchen for half a day without producing anything.

Although her mouth asked this, Tang Li’s hand had already reached out.

She added: “Let me do it.”

Faced with Ji Ming’s somewhat surprised gaze, Tang Li took the initiative to explain: “When I was in Diannan, my mother often had fevers, and I always took care of her. Making ginger soup might be difficult for you, but to me, it’s actually very simple.”

Since the conversation had reached this point, Ji Ming no longer insisted.

After Ji Ming left the kitchen, Tang Li used a knife to slice the ginger.

Standing in front of the gas stove, Ji Ming’s words seemed to linger in her ears and recalling that phrase “inevitably worried”, Tang Li slowly exhaled.

Originally, she had planned to drink the water and then find an excuse to leave…

Half an hour later, Tang Li brought the ginger soup with added honey upstairs.

Light was spilling out from the study room, scattering across the corridor.

Only after stepping into the study did she realize she hadn’t knocked, because the study door was left ajar, and carrying something in her hand, she subconsciously treated this place as though she were familiar with it.

Just as she decided to step out to knock before entering again, her gaze caught something in the corner of the study.

On the reddish-brown solid wood lounge chair, Song Baiyan was half-reclining with hands interlocked over his body, a book lay open on the armrest as if he had been reading and had closed his eyes in weariness.

It seemed Song Baiyan was really asleep.

Putting the ginger soup on the desk, Tang Li inexplicably walked over and crouched beside the lounge chair.

Bathed in the warm yellow light, she looked at Song Baiyan’s prominent nose and thin lips with her eyes, which seemed sharp yet inexplicably gave her a sense of tranquility.

The image from yesterday of Song Baiyan smiling in the gym surfaced in her mind.

Tang Li couldn’t help but curl her lips into a smile.

Not knowing how much time had passed, until her legs began to numb, she quietly stood up and left the study.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Once the study door was closed, the man who was supposedly asleep opened his eyes.

Song Baiyan sat up from the lounge chair.

Thinking of those two warm yet novel gazes directed at him, he smiled, seeming helpless yet mixed with a trace of indulgence, and reached out to pick up “Song of Solomon” on the armrest—which he had barely begun to read—only to find a cigarette box lying on its pages.