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Xiang Ge had indeed learned how to make seaweed rice rolls from Gong Mo.
However, because her rolls turned out so unsightly—burnt egg crepes, oddly shaped cucumbers, and unevenly rolled sushi—they were all unceremoniously dumped into the trash.
Compared to the time she once managed to burn scrambled eggs into something resembling popcorn, this was undeniably progress. Xiang Ge was rather pleased with herself.
Though the final product was made by Gong Mo, Xiang Ge had personally arranged it in the box. With its elegant presentation, her statement, “Of course I’m amazing,” didn’t seem entirely off the mark when rounded up.
Xiang Ge held chopsticks between her teeth, propping her chin on one hand as her thoughts wandered aimlessly.
Out of the corner of his eye, Zhou Xingyan glanced at her and then at the chopsticks dangling from her mouth. His first instinct was to pull them out.
His fingers twitched slightly, but he restrained himself.
Xiang Ge bit the tips of the dark bamboo chopsticks, which wobbled precariously, looking as though they might fall at any moment.
Zhou Xingyan’s jaw tightened slightly, and suddenly, he called her name: “Xiang Ge.”
She was lost in thought, pondering something unknown. Hearing him call her, she turned her gaze toward him, instinctively responding with an “Ah?”
The chopsticks slipped from her mouth, clattering faintly against the marble floor.
Xiang Ge froze, staring down at the fallen utensils for a moment before sighing mournfully and bending down to pick them up.
In doing so, she missed the fleeting curve of Zhou Xingyan’s lips.
The woman retrieved the chopsticks and tucked them into the edge of the cloth bag that had carried the lunchbox. She looked at him, “What is it?”
Zhou Xingyan: “Nothing, I forgot.”
“…”
You owe me chopsticks!
Xiang Ge deflated, looking at him: “I’m still hungry.”
Zhou Xingyan nodded, feigning ignorance: “Then eat. I’m full.”
Xiang Ge fell silent, her beautiful eyes fixed intently on him.
Zhou Xingyan suddenly noticed that she wasn’t wearing eyeshadow today. On closer inspection, her eyes seemed to shimmer with a faint, sparkling brown hue.
Her eyeliner was drawn short, slightly flicked upward, making her look different from the past two encounters.
Zhou Xingyan was utterly captivated.
Xiang Ge remained motionless, locking eyes with him. Suddenly, she extended her tongue, licking her upper lip teasingly.
Leaning forward slightly, her forearms nudged the lunchbox closer: “Can I borrow your chopsticks?”
Zhou Xingyan paused mid-action, placing the chopsticks on the lunchbox and leaning back into his chair.
Before he could say anything, a commotion erupted outside—muffled shouts, soft pleading voices, growing louder and clearer by the second.
Zhou Xingyan reacted swiftly, standing up and heading toward the door.
Xiang Ge, startled, followed suit.
The man, already two steps ahead, suddenly turned back, his dark eyes shadowed: “Sit down.”
Xiang Ge froze, rooted to the spot.
Zhou Xingyan pressed his lips tightly, lowering his voice slightly: “Stay here and wait for me. Don’t come out.”
The shouting grew closer, accompanied by the dull thud of something hitting the ground, the shattering of glassware, and a woman’s scream.
Realizing it was likely a medical dispute, Xiang Ge quickly nodded.
Zhou Xingyan turned and opened the office door, stepping out. Xiang Ge immediately pulled out her phone to call the police, standing by the door and peering through the glass.
Outside stood four men. Everything in the nurse’s station had been overturned, and a young nurse lay on the ground, being helped up by others. Her forearm was bleeding.
The leader wielded a steel pipe, pounding it against the nurse’s station. Seeing Zhou Xingyan emerge, he strode over, dragging the pipe across the floor with an eerie scraping sound, shouting loudly and menacingly: “Are you a doctor? Get your director out here!”
Xiang Ge’s knuckles whitened as she gripped her phone, turning sideways to lean against the wall while dialing. Outside, Zhou Xingyan’s voice mingled with the cacophony of yelling. Xiang Ge covered one ear with her hand and reported the address and floor to the police.
Just as she finished speaking, before she could hang up, the man’s roar suddenly intensified. Amidst the chaos, Zhou Xingyan’s voice rang out, calling her name.
Instinctively, Xiang Ge turned her head just in time to see the man swing the steel pipe high into the air. The cold metallic end gleamed under the hospital corridor’s harsh lighting, descending swiftly and violently toward the glass—
Reacting instantly, Xiang Ge threw herself backward, tossing her phone aside and raising her arms to shield her face.
Her hipbone struck the cold marble floor with a dull thud, surrounded by the shattering sound of glass raining down.
Eyes squeezed shut, she remained still, feeling the burning pain on her arms but not daring to move, fearing stray shards might cut her face.
Amidst the women’s screams, men’s roars, chaotic footsteps, and dull thuds, she stayed frozen in this position for about six or seven seconds until a pair of icy hands touched her wrists.
Xiang Ge lifted her head, opening her eyes.
Zhou Xingyan crouched beside her, his clothes disheveled.
Xiang Ge scanned him from head to toe, ensuring he wasn’t injured, before exhaling in relief.
Pain twisted her nose as she shook off two shards of glass from her white shirt. Flipping her arm over, she saw two deep gashes on her forearm, bleeding profusely.
Zhou Xingyan’s thin lips were pressed into a rigid line, his voice slightly hoarse: “Can you stand?”
Xiang Ge looked up at him, her eyes wet: “My butt hurts…”
Without a word, Zhou Xingyan hooked his arm under her knees, carefully avoiding her injured arm, and lifted her horizontally. He exited the office.
Hospital security arrived, temporarily restraining the troublemakers. Zhou Xingyan nodded to another doctor nearby and headed straight for the stairwell, ascending to the next floor.
Xiang Ge’s hand rested around his neck, her gaze fixated on the pale skin of his nape, trailing upward to his taut jawline, and finally sliding to his rolling Adam’s apple. Somehow, the pain in her arm seemed to lessen.
Her gaze was too brazen. As Zhou Xingyan hurried upstairs, he lowered his lashes to look at her, his pupils black and emotionless, his voice cold: “Done yet?”
His expression and tone were somewhat intimidating, and Xiang Ge obediently withdrew her gaze.
Ascending one floor, Zhou Xingyan carried her into the duty room, where a man sat at a desk writing something.
Hearing footsteps, he casually looked up, stunned for three seconds upon seeing Zhou Xingyan cradling a woman in his arms. Spotting the bloody gashes on Xiang Ge’s forearm, he quickly reacted, standing up and leaving.
Zhou Xingyan placed her on a nearby single bed. Just then, the other doctor returned, carrying a tray and approaching, “What happened?”
Zhou Xingyan pulled up a chair and sat beside her: “Glass.”
The man nodded, bending down. Just as his hand reached out, he paused, turning his head to glance at the person beside him, raising an eyebrow: “You want to do it?”
“…”
“Too attached?”
Zhou Xingyan wanted to kick him: “Hurry up.”
The man shrugged, pulling over Xiang Ge’s arm and disinfecting a small pair of tweezers from the tray. He carefully extracted several tiny shards of glass embedded in her skin.
Some fragments were deeply lodged, and blood gushed as the tweezers dug in. Xiang Ge winced, her entire body recoiling.
One by one, the tiny shards were plucked out, the tray filling with blood-soaked gauze and cotton. By the time the wound was disinfected and bandaged, Xiang Ge’s eyes were red-rimmed, yet she hadn’t uttered a single sound throughout the process.
Zhou Xingyan watched silently from the side, his jaw tightening slightly, his eyelids twitching spasmodically.
The man glanced at him, then at the girl sitting on the bed. Politely excusing himself, he quietly left the room with the tray.
Xiang Ge’s pain hadn’t subsided yet, and Zhou Xingyan remained silent. For a moment, the room was engulfed in silence.
The woman raised her arm slightly, wincing as she drew her shoulders inward. Her delicate features crumpled pitifully, her eyes moist.
Xiang Ge felt like she had become more sensitive.
It was just a few cuts from glass—why did she feel as though she were mortally wounded and in urgent need of rescue simply because he was there?
With this thought, she raised her head, glancing at the man seated beside her.
Zhou Xingyan happened to be looking at her as well.
Sitting on the bed, she was lower than his chair and had to tilt her head slightly to meet his gaze.
Zhou Xingyan’s gaze was steady, his pupils dark and intense, his lips pressed tightly together. After a long pause, he softly called her name: “Xiang Ge.”
His deep, slightly hoarse voice lacked its usual cold detachment.
Hearing him call her name, Xiang Ge was momentarily stunned before breaking into a smile.
“I’m here.” She tilted her head, leaning forward slightly, gazing directly at him from below, “What does Dr. Zhou want to say?”
Zhou Xingyan remained silent, only pressing his lips together as he stared at her.
Xiang Ge fluttered her long lashes and smiled, “Dr. Zhou won’t speak? Then let me.”
Standing up, she took two steps forward, closing the distance between them. Bending low, she brought her lips close to his ear, her breath brushing against his earlobe.
Her lips parted slightly, just as she was about to speak—
The sound of a doorknob twisting interrupted them. The doctor who had bandaged Xiang Ge earlier walked in, raising his head as he called out: “Ah Yan, I brought—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
In his duty room, Zhou Xingyan sat in his chair, while the girl he had earlier carried in with a tense expression was now bent low, their heads close together, engaged in some unknown activity.
Upon hearing the sound, both turned their heads simultaneously.
Expressionless, the man nodded in apology, retreating two steps and closing the door behind him.
Author’s Note:
Dr. Zhou was interrupted, internally: You f***ing— [raises knife]