A Western Doctor's Happy Farming Life[1]

chapter 42

“Hey, why the long face? Don’t worry, alright? I am not that kind of crooked and mean person. Moreover, it’s a win-win business. Isn’t it? How come I ruin my own benefit?” said Lin Dafu, seemingly he had seen through the inner thought of Song Qinghan.

“In addition…” he took a pause, pondering for a brief while, “I will leave this place tomorrow, how am I supposed to against you? Well, I think no more.”

With an astonishment, Song Qinghan asked him in curiosity, “What? Where are you heading to? And what for? Will you come back?”

Staring at Song Qinghan in somewhat amusement, Lin Dafu shook his head, saying, “You’re such a baby boy with million of questions. Aren’t you? Or maybe in short, what you would really want to know is that if I am coming back or not, right? Well, the answer must be promising for you. I will NEVER ever come back here again.”

Pondering, Song Qinghan found himself not that kind of extremely happy, but the utterance from Lin Dafu somehow aroused a trace of sorrow deeply in his mind, even though he knew there wouldn’t be a “JERK” being so annoying buzzing around him anymore.

Probably this man, being hurt thousand times without giving up, would finally bow himself to the fate and realize that they had no future at all.

After lunch, Lin Dafu sent all the servants away in the room, placing both his hands on the table and staring sincerely at Song Qinghan, saying, “So, you still choose to keep your silence not telling me about your secret till now?”

Avoiding the direct eye contact with him, Song Qinghan withdrew his eyesight, shaking his head and answering, “What are you talking about? I don’t have secrets, okay?”

Lin Dafu raised his eyebrows, saying, “Nahhhh, everyone owns a secret. You bet, my secret is that I still wetted my pants when I was six years old. How about you?”

As the ambience came to a relaxation, Song Qinghan felt more relaxed, saying, “Ah, my secret is that I wetted my pants at my seven.”

“Really?” said Lin Dafu, as he leaned against the chair, while staring at Song Qinghan who was now dogging on their eye contact and fumbling there. The unknown sorrow dragged him drowning down to an invisible abyss. He then continued to grumble, “Didn’t you say that you’ve lost your memories? How come you still remember the matter of your childhood?”

Song Qinghan knew exactly the man in front would keep buzzing him about the answer. With nervousness, he mumbled, “I… I got my tongue tangled.”

Hearing that, Lin Dafu got his eyes sharper, pouting himself there.

“Well, is that so? Then explain to me about the matter that you once confessed to me that you are a drunk freak? Are you sure that you were informed by Wu Dahu?”

Getting no any sign given by the bitter cold expression of Lin Dafu, Song Qinghan got no other answer but said, “Ye… Yeah! Of course he did.”

Lin Dafu gave him a response with a sneer, yet the smile on his face was of bitterness. This term he showed no more mercy, saying, “Well, it’s such a pity. But I am sorry to inform you that I did ask Wu Dahu about that. He told me that he never witness any scene of you being drunk. So tell me, how was he able to know that you’re a drunk freak?”

“Impossible! When did you…?” shouted Song Qinghan, but then he took a sudden pause, commencing recalling the day when Wu Dahu was released from the jail.

Did Lin Dafu sow the seeds of suspicion in his mind that day, and commenced collecting evidences in a sneaky way?

Things happened these five days started projecting a wave of frames of a movie in Song Qinghan’s mind. Finally, he realized the direst drama he had played was an obviously bad show, he shrugged, seemingly giving up all his struggle, and confessing, “Actually I…”