Unrequited Love 暗恋橘生淮南 Chapter 40.2

Chapter 40.2 - Actually, I Really Don't Want to Believe You (2)

She had already walked some distance, but stopped and turned back, looking directly at him.

She wanted to ask, What exactly are you trying to do? But all she could feel was the cold, the fever burning on her forehead. She didn’t want to drag it out.

“Yeah. I like you. So what?” she replied impatiently.

Sheng Huainan looked at her for a long moment, then said quietly, “Maybe I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

“I really can’t take this anymore,” Luo Zhi laughed. “First you apologized for Zhang Mingrui liking me. Then you apologized for not knowing me in high school. Now you’re apologizing because I like you. Your moral compass is really something.”

He said nothing.

Luo Zhi shook her head, trying to sound calm. “I don’t know if the things you did to me were for some hidden reason, or if you’re just emotionally twisted. If it was some reason, I did want to ask… but you didn’t even bother to ask me a single question, and just…” She stopped, then smiled bitterly. “Honestly, you didn’t do anything all that terrible. Didn’t say anything too cruel, didn’t hit me or yell. You just… made me feel awful. Like my heart hurt. That’s all. Just a feeling.”

After saying that, she dropped the smile and looked at him seriously. “Love is just a feeling too.”

Sheng Huainan opened his mouth, as if to speak, but nothing came out.

After a long silence, Luo Zhi felt her fingers going numb from the cold, so she added, “You’re clearly not going to tell me why, and I’m done asking. But let me just say this—I may have lied. But the lies were just to preserve a sense of balance and illusion for myself. I never, not once, did anything morally wrong. Not a single thing.” She spoke slowly, like giving a closing statement in court.

As she walked away, she vaguely heard Sheng Huainan whisper, “Actually… I really didn’t want to believe you.”

After returning the books, she realized she was hungry. Around six o’clock, she rushed into the third cafeteria. She’d been craving the flatbread and meat rolls—but they were sold out. They only made one batch in the evening, and now, not a crumb left.

She bought a bowl of porridge. Then, in a fit of defiance, she also got spicy boiled beef, spicy chicken, and mala hotpot. Her throat wasn’t healed, her nose was still stuffed up, and she couldn’t taste anything—but she needed something intense.

Just as she sat down, she looked up and saw Zhang Mingrui cheerfully walking over with a tray.

“You—”

“You said you’d eat alone tonight, so I figured you’d go buy those meat rolls. I waited in line and didn’t see you, so I sat by that window, but you never showed. I figured you might’ve missed out again, so I doubled back and got you two more. But they’re cold now.”

Luo Zhi opened her mouth, but her nose stung before words could come out.

“Thanks,” she said, burying her face in the steaming bowl of porridge so he wouldn’t see her expression.

The next second, Zhang Mingrui stuck out a finger and exaggeratedly trembled like a horror movie scene, shouting:

“No way, Luo Zhi—what happened to you?! You’re thinner than a dried flower! Ugh, you haven’t showered in a week, have you?”

She glared at him and stuffed a bite of spicy beef into her mouth—only to bite down on a peppercorn. Her tongue went numb. She still couldn’t taste anything.

“Zhang Mingrui, you bastard,” she mumbled through the burning numbness.

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Unrequited Love 暗恋橘生淮南 Chapter 40.1

Chapter 40.1 - Actually, I Really Don't Want to Believe You (1)

Luo Zhi finished two entire Cambridge IELTS prep books—eight full tests—in one day. Her head was spinning. By evening, she got dressed, planning to return the books to the library.

Just before she left the dorm, Bai Li called out from behind, “Wear more layers, the sun’s down. You’re still running a fever, it’s cold outside.”

Luo Zhi laughed. “The sun’s down? You sound like a village auntie.”

Bai Li laughed too. “Go look in the mirror—ugh, that smile… so pale, sickly, and forced. Like some fragile beauty from a sad novel.”

Luo Zhi looked in the mirror as she was told. In fact, she’d already seen it that morning while washing her face—she’d lost a noticeable amount of weight in just a week, her complexion deathly pale.

Pathetic. She waved at Bai Li and opened the dorm door.

“Oh right, since you can go downstairs now, go meet Zhang Mingrui yourself tonight, okay? I bet he’ll be thrilled to see you!”

“I already texted him that I’m feeling better and eating on my own. He won’t be coming.”

“What?” Bai Li pouted, then cautiously asked, “Luo Zhi… is this whole illness because of that guy, Sheng Huainan?”

Luo Zhi looked back at her, tilted her head and stared at the ceiling, then seriously replied, “I think… it was mostly the temperature and the virus.”

As she stepped out the door, she heard Bai Li mumble behind her, “The feng shui in this dorm is cursed.”

She swiped her card and pushed open the dorm entrance—only to unexpectedly see Sheng Huainan. Luo Zhi gave him a calm smile, nodded politely, and walked on.

“Luo Zhi… are you feeling better?” he asked.

“Almost,” she replied, still hoarse.

His eyes held a mix of guilt, restraint, and tenderness. Luo Zhi didn’t understand, so she looked away.

“It’s cold outside. You should stay in and rest until you fully recover.”

“I’m just going to return books,” she said, lifting the Cambridge prep books. “Got it, thanks.”

“You’re taking the IELTS soon?”

“Mm, this Saturday, at BLCU.”

“With your voice like this, what about the speaking test?”

“Well, it’s not a broadcasting exam—as long as the pronunciation’s clear, it’s fine.”

“Then… good luck.” He smiled, a bit helplessly.

“Oh, right—are you waiting for someone here? Give me a minute. I’ve got something to return to you.” Luo Zhi suddenly remembered—this was a good chance to wrap things up.

“What is it?”

“The raincoat. I’m returning it.” Her tone was completely neutral. Sheng Huainan raised his eyebrows, looking at her intently. She met his gaze directly. “Wait a second, I’ll be right back.”

“Give me the books,” he said. “I’ll hold them for you so you don’t have to carry them again. Don’t run—watch that cold wind.”

Luo Zhi frowned openly and gave him a sidelong glance. “Thanks,” she said curtly, handing over the books and swiping her card to reenter the building.

Sheng Huainan flipped through the books. He thought of how, over the holidays, so many people had rushed to sign up for TOEFL or GRE courses, buying huge stacks of books for New Oriental. Most of them barely finished even a fraction, but they still bought everything—just in case.

There weren’t any notes in Luo Zhi’s books. Just a few scribbled lines in messy handwriting—clearly a guy’s writing. Library books, after all.

But on the last page, the paper felt oddly rough—as if someone had written on top of it, pressing down too hard and leaving indentations. Bored, he traced the markings with his finger, trying to make out what it said. He gave up quickly.

Luo Zhi came back down and handed him a semi-transparent bag—inside was a faintly visible pink raincoat.

“Washed and dried,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be going now.”

“About that night… when I asked if you liked me—”

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Unrequited Love 暗恋橘生淮南 Chapter 39.2

Chapter 39.2 - I’m Sorry (2)

Luo Zhi called her mom three to four times a week. At first, she used to report her life to her mom, but over time, the roles reversed—her mom spoke like a schoolgirl, sharing her daily routines, while Luo Zhi responded with “Uh-huh,” “Really?” “What happened?” “How could someone do that?” “Don’t take it to heart…”

Luo Zhi held her phone tightly, her smile gradually turning from sweet to bitter.

She tilted her head back to stop the tears. Lately, her crying frequency was rivaling Belle’s.

Suddenly, the phone rang again.

“Luoluo, I thought about it and something still feels off. That dream keeps playing in my head. Are you really okay? Don’t bottle things up—just talk to me.”

Luo Zhi’s tears finally fell, soaking into her collar.

“Mom, really, I’m fine.”
Mom, maybe there really is such a thing as mother-daughter telepathy.

“How’s your IELTS prep?”

“No problems.”

“Okay… if you’re really fine, I’ll hang up.”

“Mom, are you the one with something on your mind?” Luo Zhi asked lightly, letting out a laugh.

“I dreamed about your dad.”

Outside the window, she could hear the wind. A few withered leaves still clung to the tree branches. They shook violently, but didn’t fall. If they were going to fall, they would’ve done it long ago.

“Mom,” Luo Zhi heard her own voice tremble, “did you ever regret marrying Dad?”

“No.” Her mother’s voice became unexpectedly calm at that question.

“But…”

“Those first few years, the three of us were so happy. Even though your dad’s not around anymore and we had to go through so much hardship, I’ll always remember those early days clearly. Even if I hate those people. And without all that, there wouldn’t be you. Maybe, your dad and I lived this life just to bring you into the world.”

Luo Zhi held the phone in her hands, tears falling like broken pearls. She covered the receiver, not daring to make a sound.

“Luoluo, to be honest, I’m proud and heartbroken that you’ve always been so independent, always afraid of being a burden. Your dad and I weren’t capable people. We didn’t have good luck. But heaven gave me you, so I have no right to complain. Still, there’s something I’ve never said—I don’t want you to feel responsible for my life, or feel like you owe me anything. Your life is your own. I know you care, but don’t let your heart be so tired. Sometimes I blame myself. I spent so much time teaching you to be strong and sensible that I made you too sensible, too careful. When I worry about you, it’s not because I’m afraid of you getting sick or hurt—I just keep wondering, is Luoluo unhappy? Is something troubling her? But I know… you won’t tell me a word.”

She gripped the phone tightly and buried her face deep into a pillow.

Eventually she dragged herself out of bed and sat in a chair, staring blankly out the window.

It really was snowing—it was already mid-December. In four days, she’d go take the IELTS exam at Beijing Language and Culture University. A few tears had landed on her Cambridge practice book, drying into crinkled spots. She stared at the tear stains, chuckled inexplicably, then pouted.

This illness of hers… was really just one breath stuck in her chest, unable to be let out.

I’m sorry.

She whispered to the mirror on the wall.
In her mind, those brief three months flickered past.

I’m sorry.

I used your precious memories to disguise myself, to perform, to show off, to please others.

When Belle entered the room, she saw Luo Zhi bent over doing exercises, her face blank.

“It’s snowing outside,” Belle said.

Luo Zhi didn’t respond.

Feeling awkward, Belle added, “Your IELTS is in a few days, right?”

Still no reply.

Belle looked closely and noticed a wire from Luo Zhi’s earphones hidden beneath her loose hair. Oh, she’s listening to something, Belle thought, feeling slightly reassured.

Then she happened to glance at a scratch paper on the desk—on it, written over and over in small, neat handwriting, were the words:
I’m sorry.

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Unrequited Love 暗恋橘生淮南 Chapter 39.1

Chapter 39.1 - I’m Sorry (1)

After skipping class for three days, Luo Zhi finally woke up one day feeling noticeably clearer in her head. Her phone buzzed suddenly—it was a call from her mom.

“Luoluo, how have you been these past few days? I saw on TV that it’s supposed to snow in Beijing. Is it cold?”

“Not really.”

In fact, she had no idea whether it was cold outside or not—she hadn’t left her room. At first, Belle had helped buy food for her. Then Zhang Mingrui texted her, asking why she hadn’t shown up for Law class. Jokingly, she said she was so sick she was near death. Unexpectedly, he said he’d come to the dorm to check on her. After she declined repeatedly, he finally gave up. But that night, he called again and said he had gone all the way to Jiahe Yipin to buy her some porridge and was bringing it over. Luo Zhi was startled and had to ask Belle for help. As a result, when Belle went down to intercept him, she later teased Luo Zhi with a mischievous smile, pressing her for details.

That’s how the past few days had gone.

“What’s wrong with your voice? Why is it so hoarse—do you have a cold?”

“A little bit. It’s fine, nothing serious. No fever, just coughing. Don’t worry, I’ve taken medicine.”

“As if you ever take medicine properly. No wonder—I had a dream about you last night. Dreamt you dyed your hair and had an allergic reaction. Your lips swelled up like Stephen Chow in Kung Fu, couldn’t even speak. I called to check on you—and sure enough, you’re sick.”

“Mother-daughter telepathy,” Luo Zhi laughed roughly. Her voice sounded like a croaking duck. “You worry too much about me, so you have weird dreams. Don’t be superstitious, it’s nonsense. But honestly, I wouldn’t mind swollen lips—it’d save me from having to talk.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just a sore throat.”

“Teaching those two kids—is it exhausting?”

“No, it’s just babysitting. Really simple. Their spoken English is really good, but their grammar is a mess. I just help them correct their writing and tutor them in fourth or fifth grade level math, in English, since their textbooks are in English. Much easier than teaching high school kids. I told you before—it’s like getting paid for nothing.”

“No way it’s not tiring! You’re always trying to fool me.”

Luo Zhi just laughed. There was no point in arguing with her mother.

“One of my coworkers—you remember Aunt Fu, the one you met during the holidays—she’s going to Beijing to help her son settle in. He just got a job at a hotel. I had her bring you a pair of boots I bought on sale here—they’re really pretty, you’ll love them. I was going to ask you to meet her at the train station, show her how to take the subway, and pick up the boots. But since you’re sick, forget it.”

“It’s fine. Just send me the train number and time in a text so I don’t forget. How’s work?”

Her mother used to stand all day at the counter, but last year was diagnosed with early varicose veins. Through someone’s recommendation, she now cooked for factory workers in the cafeteria of a plastic mold plant. Luo Zhi would listen as her mom talked about workplace gossip and drama, sometimes giving advice, sometimes teasing her for fun.

When the topic turned to her workplace, her mom kept talking and only hung up after a long chat.

After the call, Luo Zhi stared at the phone screen with a smile full of fondness. She still remembered how, when she was little and too weak to walk, her mother carried her from place to place seeking justice, even when threatened. She still clutched a kitchen knife in one hand, holding Luo Zhi close and telling a bureau director calmly: “I carry this to work every day. I can keep carrying it—until you kill me.”

Some of the “legendary” experiences from childhood could easily be turned into a melodramatic TV drama.

Time flies. She had grown up; her mother had grown old, now calling and chatting endlessly about random everyday things. Luo Zhi understood her mother’s loneliness. At nearly fifty, her mom had no close girlfriends, no confidante she could casually and sincerely chat with—except family. Unlike Luo Zhi, who despite her troubles still had a future ahead, whose loneliness stemmed from pride, vanity, or a romantic kind of sadness—her mother’s loneliness was tangible. It came from life nearing its conclusion, returning home each day to an empty, quiet space, where even breathing seemed soaked in melancholy.

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Unrequited Love 暗恋橘生淮南 Chapter 38.2

Chapter 38.2 - To Shakespeare (2)

Sheng Huainan was caught off guard. “Why would I…” He stopped mid-sentence, paused, then asked, “Why are you asking that?”

“Yes or no?”

“Well, the future is too uncertain. No one can say for sure.” He avoided her gaze.

“I asked if you want to marry me—not whether you can. The future is uncertain for everyone. But what matters is whether you have that intent. What you’re really saying is: Since you like me, let’s try dating first, and then we’ll see if I’ll ‘make it official’ later.”

Her overly cheerful tone seemed to irritate him. Sheng Huainan frowned and waved dismissively, “Okay, I don’t want to marry you. Happy now?”

Luo Zhi actually laughed. Since he’d known her, Sheng Huainan had never seen her laugh like that—so bold, so unrestrained.

“Sheng Huainan, you know what? Shakespeare once said: All love not aimed at marriage is just playing around.”

Then she stretched lazily and added, “So please, get lost. Stay away from me.”

Luo Zhi turned and walked away, trying to appear cool and carefree.

When the door opened, Belle was startled and sat up. The soft hallway light cast across her tear-streaked face—just as it lit up Luo Zhi’s face, also streaked with tears.

Belle’s mouth fell open in surprise. Luo Zhi rarely came back late—let alone crying. But she said nothing. She lay back down and tried to fall asleep again. The rustling beside her slowly faded into background noise.

Luo Zhi, at last, fell seriously ill at just the right time.

Memories always hit the hardest in the dead of night. That night, she caught a slight cold and fever from the chill. At the same time, her insomnia worsened. Her daily schedule became fragmented. She’d nap for two hours at noon, fall asleep at 8 p.m., wake naturally around 1 a.m., then spend the rest of the night studying, reading, listening to CDs. She still attended classes during the day.

Belle tried to persuade her to stop pushing herself so hard. Luo Zhi only smiled and said, “I sleep during the day. Who do you know that never sleeps at night? I do sleep, really.”

“But you still go to class like normal during the day—when do you actually rest?”

“I sleep whenever I have free time. If I’m tired, I sleep. If I’m not, I don’t.”

“Luo Zhi… are you unhappy?”

“Yes. I’m extremely unhappy.” Her answer was blunt, but her face was so expressionless that Belle didn’t dare ask anything more.

She didn’t last long before falling sick—feverish and weak, her whole body aching, her voice too hoarse to speak. No matter how she lay—on her side, back, or stomach—she struggled to breathe.

She often dreamed of high school. And every time she woke up, her pillow was soaked with tears.

It turned out people could cry in their sleep—so much that even sunlight couldn’t dry the pillow.

Originally—yes, originally—she thought that someday, when she looked back, that time could become a beautiful story. Lost in a sea of Huanggang test papers, prep booklets, and exam drills, there were scattered memories that, if carefully pieced together, could form a portrait: a pale girl with a ponytail, harboring a silent, repressed crush—half born of inferiority, half from pride. Always following behind that boy, walking through sun-drenched corridors in the morning light.

She could have had a youth that was bittersweet and whole.

Even if her story wasn’t beautiful or pure, at least it honored her pride. It might not have been joyful, but it was a sincere, pure kind of love—something she could hold onto in the depths of the night, warming herself with the strength of her imagination and memory.

But now, that once stubborn and harmless crush had been turned into a ridiculous sequel, like a greedy director forcing a second-rate continuation. She couldn’t bear to think about what had happened over those short three months. There had been no reason, no ending—just a trampled mess. Every time she thought of it, pain swelled in her chest.

Real pain.

And yet… she finally confessed.

Not the breathless, red-faced girl running up six flights of stairs to confess at the classroom door.

Just a girl standing in the cold wind, facing a pair of impatient eyes, quietly and tragically admitting: Yes. I do like you.

It wasn’t a confession. It was a surrender.

Late at night, coughing until she nearly choked, she dragged herself out of bed to drink water. It was then that she realized—Lin Daiyu had been helpless too. She should never have mocked her.

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Unrequited Love 暗恋橘生淮南 Chapter 38.1

Chapter 38.1 - To Shakespeare (1)

Her wildly pounding heart gradually calmed. She stopped and looked at him. The midnight chill made her teeth chatter.

Once again, they stared at each other, clueless and silent—just like that rainy day. This time, across a narrow street.

She remembered the look in Ye Zhanyan’s eyes at that moment: full of unwillingness and resentment. She hadn’t understood it then.

But now, in Sheng Huainan’s gaze, there was only gentle pity and sorrow.

Luo Zhi suddenly had the urge to run over and cover his eyes—Don’t look at me like that, with pity.

She had always feared pity. Especially from him.

“Why?” she asked. Why.

“I had dinner with a few seniors from the student council. We stayed late. I happened to see you, and I was worried about a girl walking alone at night, so I followed you quietly.”

That’s not what I meant. She shook her head but didn’t press further. Judging by Sheng Huainan’s expression, even if she asked, his answer would be something evasive like: ‘Why what?’

“Well, thank you then.” Luo Zhi felt both cold and exhausted. Her knees were weak. She didn’t want to keep going in circles.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sheng Huainan’s tone left no room for refusal.

“Go ahead.”

“You like me, don’t you?”

Luo Zhi looked up at him in disbelief.

“It’s better if you don’t lie,” Sheng Huainan added, still looking at her.

“What do you mean?” she asked quietly.

“Nothing much. I just think you owe me the truth, don’t you?”

Luo Zhi didn’t know if it was the wind or anger that made her tremble.

But she lacked the courage to deny it. She had told many lies—but he shouldn’t know that.

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“We shouldn't beat around the bush. If you don’t like me, or if you have no hopes or interest in me, then you shouldn’t be so defensive around me. Just say it outright.”

Luo Zhi straightened her back. “So you don’t need to hear it from me. You’ve already reasoned it out. Even if the answer isn’t what you want.”

“You…”

“I—” Luo Zhi took a deep breath. “I like you. It’s true.”

She finally said it. The words “I like you” that had circled in her head for so long were forced out at last, by the cold impatience in his eyes on a chilly night in early winter in Beijing.

But when she said it, the expression in Sheng Huainan’s eyes was full of disappointment and reluctance.

“You should’ve guessed already,” Luo Zhi laughed coldly. “If I didn’t like you, when you held my hand, I would’ve slapped you. Why didn’t I?”

There was a long silence. Then Sheng Huainan asked quietly, with a complicated expression, “So… you want to be my girlfriend?”

Luo Zhi didn’t show any of the reactions he had expected—no shock, no anger, no confusion, not even joy.

She just frowned slightly, eyes full of sadness. What kind of stupid question is that? He was playing with her. He was really toying with her.

She lifted her head and smiled sweetly.

“Do you want to marry me?” she asked.

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My Little Happiness 我的小确幸 Chapter is 21.2

Chapter 21.2 - Beauty’s Knife (2)

Just then, someone pushed the door open. Shangguan Yi came in, wiping sweat from his forehead and apologizing, “Sorry, there was traffic on the way.”
“Brother Shangguan!” The girl jumped up and grabbed Shangguan Yi’s arm. “Can I work with Lawyer Shangguan? I can work overtime too!”

When Shangguan Yi saw Xiong Jingjing, his eyes twitched, and he gave a desperate look to Cong Rong and Tan Size, but both were busy tidying papers on the table.
Cong Rong had long wanted to leave. “The star of the show has arrived. Let’s get out of here.”
Tan Size patted his shoulder, “Last one, Shangguan. Make sure you fill out the evaluation form and give it to HR.”

After leaving the meeting room, Cong Rong asked, “So what’s the story with Shangguan’s romantic debts?”
Tan Size shook his head, “It’s not romantic debts. You know who Shangguan likes, don’t you? They’ve been childhood sweethearts, but sadly, one is interested and the other is indifferent.”
Cong Rong looked puzzled. “If you know Shangguan likes someone, why did you bring her to the firm?”
Tan Size said, “That female judge isn’t warm or cold toward Shangguan—probably sentenced him to life imprisonment. I’m making a last-ditch appeal on Shangguan’s behalf, seeing if she gets jealous.”
Cong Rong frowned, “That’s a dirty trick!”
“By the way, I want that big guy, Dazhuang.”
“Sure.”
“Why don’t you compete with me for him?”
“Because the cases I’m handling recently are quite gruesome. He’s still young, and I’m worried he can’t handle it.”
Tan Size thought about it and nodded before walking away.

Near the end of the day, Shangguan Yi came to ask Cong Rong for help.
“How is Xiong Jingjing doing under your supervision?”
Cong Rong didn’t even look up, tossing him some of her recent work schedules. “She looks like a delicate girl. Won’t exposure to this stuff give her nightmares?”
Shangguan Yi rubbed his forehead in frustration, “Then what do we do?”

Suddenly Cong Rong’s mind moved, and she cautiously said, “If a man likes someone, but another woman who likes him shows up, and the two women often interact because of some things, and the man hasn’t clearly rejected the second woman but is ambiguous with her—what do you think that man means?”
Shangguan Yi didn’t understand right away, “Are you indirectly calling me out? I have clearly rejected Xiong Jingjing.”
Cong Rong glanced at him, “I wasn’t talking about you!”
Shangguan Yi thought seriously for a moment, “There are two possibilities. Either the man is a scumbag, or the woman he likes and the woman who likes him are actually the same person.”
Then he stretched out his hand to Cong Rong, “Consultation fee.”
Cong Rong kicked him out of the office and carefully considered Shangguan Yi’s words.

The second possibility was basically ruled out, which meant the first possibility was true—Wen Shaoqing also had the typical male flaw: not turning anyone away.
Thinking this, she started feeling annoyed again.

The result of Lawyer Cong’s annoyance was that after dinner with Zhong Zhen, she didn’t want to go home and instead went to his place to pass the time.
Zhong Zhen, unlike usual, sat down at the computer as soon as he got home to write his thesis. Looking at the messy room, Cong Rong suddenly thought of Wen Shaoqing’s clean and tidy home. She looked at Zhong Zhen and felt that perhaps Wen Shaoqing’s neat aura wasn’t just because he was a doctor—it was part of his nature. Whether or not he was a doctor, he was clean all over: the home, clothes, voice, gaze—everything was clean.

Zhong Zhen had been stuck on a problem for several days and tried consulting Wen Shaoqing on QQ.
After a brief explanation, Wen Shaoqing sent him a line that made Zhong Zhen so happy he almost cried:
“I remember I organized this before. I’ll find it and send it to you.”
Zhong Zhen sent a surprised emoji but soon went offline, then Wen Shaoqing got a text:
“My cousin unplugged the router while cleaning. It’s rebooting now. Teacher Wen, please send me offline messages.”
Cleaning?

Wen Shaoqing frowned, recalling Cong Rong’s polite refusal that morning—so she had plans with Zhong Zhen.
He quickly moved the mouse off a document, closed the folder, and replied: “I can’t find it. Look it up yourself. It must be submitted this week!”
Then he closed the chat window and went offline.

Zhong Zhen stared at the two short lines feeling a chill.
Cong Rong watched him sit at the computer motionless for a long time and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“My boss is hunting me down…”
Cong Rong paused, “What kind of person do you think Wen Shaoqing is?”
Zhong Zhen immediately changed expression. Cong Rong knew from his admiring look what he was about to say, but she cut him off: “Not as a doctor or teacher—what kind of man is he?”
Zhong Zhen was confused, “A man?”
“Yeah…” Cong Rong hinted, “Men have flaws. I bet a lot of people at your hospital like him. Like, does he not turn anyone down?”
Zhong Zhen grinned and waved his hand, “No way. Everyone knows the ‘beauty’s knife’ only treats and saves people or cuts off beautiful distractions. If you dare challenge him, he’ll cut off your illusions with one blow. Lots of people like him at the hospital, but don’t say he accepts everyone—my boss probably hasn’t even glanced at them.”

Now Cong Rong was the confused one. Was this guy the same as the one who flirted with her all the time?
Or was Wen Shaoqing a gentleman by day and a beast by night?

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