Chapter 3 Is Not Being Able to Forget an Ex-Girlfriend a Disease? Thirst

The lab corridor was dimly lit, and a faint smell of disinfectant lingered in the air. A tall figure sat beside the blood collection device, his right sleeve rolled up, as a white lab coat drew blood from his muscular arm.

Bright red blood flowed into the collection tube. Zong Linhan lowered his eyelashes, lost in thought.

After the test results came out, the researchers, as a matter of routine, asked Zong Linhan a few questions.

Meng Run waited anxiously at the door. When Zong Linhan came out, he quickly went up to him, looked through the report, and breathed a sigh of relief. "I told you everything was fine, Captain. That lowly creature was just making a last-ditch effort and talking nonsense!"

Zong Linhan remained silent.

Under the bright white light, his profile was pale. Because he had just had three vials of blood drawn, his lips were slightly pale, and his slightly pursed lips were straight, giving him a cold and distant feeling.

Meng Run tentatively asked, "Or is it that you, Captain, are actually feeling unwell?"

Otherwise, why would they have come to the guard post immediately for a blood test?

Zong Linhan hummed in agreement. Meng Run's heart leaped into his throat, and a series of short sentences flashed through his mind: "What do we do if the captain is no good?" "The superpower outbreak this year can't be suppressed." "It's over, it's over, the department is being reorganized, I don't want to get a new boss."

Zong Linhan turned his head slightly, his eyebrows and eyes as black as ink, his expression more serious than ever before, "If you fall in love with drinking Chinese medicine, does that count as drinking twenty packets a day?"

Meng Run: "..."

It started raining heavily on the way back, and old houses in the suburbs could be vaguely seen flashing by on both sides of the highway.

The light reflected off the glass by the raindrops refracted onto Zong Linhan's face, as if painting it with obscure and incomprehensible emotions.

He closed his eyes to recall the researchers' questions, and one of them particularly bothered him.

"Your blood sample does show some changes, but it doesn't match existing mutant species, so there doesn't seem to be any major problem for now. But I still want to ask, have you encountered anything unusual in the last three years?"

Narrowing the scope down to the last three years, he thought unhappily, "It can't be that I was dumped, which caused the blood problem, can it?"

The rain was getting heavier and heavier, and the windshield wipers couldn't keep up. Meng Run slapped the steering wheel and said, "Hey, Captain, why don't you come stay at my place for the night? Two grown men can make do. With this heavy rain, it'll be really late by the time I get back."

Zong Linhan didn't care about the address, and the two reached an agreement. After getting off the car, they passed through the closed vegetable market. The rotten cabbages on the ground were wet with rainwater, the fish scales that hadn't been washed clean shimmered with a faint light, and the faint blood and mud lingered around the blocked manhole cover.

Meng Run's home was small but clean and full of life. Perhaps it was the doctor's mention of what happened three years ago that made Zong Linhan dream of his ex-girlfriend.

Her apartment was tiny and shabby. The water heater was too old and the water flow was unpredictable; it would scald her skin at first, turning it lukewarm in less than two minutes, and after five minutes it would only be cold water. Every time he washed his hair, he had to hold onto the showerhead, praying that it would maintain the heat for a little longer, even just one more minute.

The small building is old and noisy. To the left is a bustling vegetable market, and to the right is a construction site. Excavators roar endlessly, disturbing the residents from morning to night, like a savage beast in a science fiction movie. Even when they are not in operation, you can hear the workers banging and shouting, or the bursting sound of water spraying from a hose.

Zong Linhan was once tormented by this noise, with persistent pain in his brain nerves. The fallen timber, piles of broken glass and tiles on the construction site seemed to be working inside his brain.

One night, he was woken up by the sound of an excavator secretly working in the middle of the night. He was so annoyed that he lost his temper. He turned his head and saw the culprit curled up on the sofa, sleeping soundly at a 45-degree angle. The thumping and clanging outside did not disturb her sweet dream at all.

From the floor, looking down at the sofa, you could see the girl's fair face. The hazy moonlight made her sleeping face look sweet, as if she were living in the safest place in the world. Usually at this time, Zong Linhan would angrily turn to the side, pull the blanket over his head, and blame himself for not being able to bear waking her up to suffer with him.

The birds chirped twice at dawn and fluttered away. Zong Linhan opened his eyes, the dream receding like the tide. He clutched the blanket covering him, almost digging his palms until they bled.

-

The aroma of eggs and bacon wafted in from the kitchen, and Meng Run opened his eyes.

The kitchen faces the window, where the warm morning sunlight casts a thin layer of light on the silhouettes of people by the window.

Zong Linhan deftly removed the wok from the heat and poured the bacon and fried eggs into a plate. "These are your favorites, right? I see you order these two every time."

"No, Captain," you're too virtuous. Meng Run pulled up a chair and sat down, looking at the table full of nutritious breakfast. The steaming coffee wafted out a caramelized aroma, the bacon sizzled with oil, and the two fried eggs were heart-shaped with plump, yolks that looked like they might spill out at any moment.

After cleaning up the kitchen waste on the island, Zong Linhan sat down to eat breakfast, while Meng Run had already wolfed down a third of it.

Zong Linhan's expression didn't change much, but Meng Runxian felt embarrassed. He took a sip of coffee and asked, "Did you sleep well last night?"

Zong Linhan said in a low voice, "It's alright."

He recalled his dream from yesterday, and the coffee tasted bitter and astringent.

"I love this so much!" Meng Run suddenly said while taking a bite of toast.

"What?" Zong Linhan looked up.

A melodramatic period drama set in the Republican era is playing on TV. The male lead kneels in the pouring rain, crying and begging his beloved not to leave. His beloved, heartbroken, also cries her heart out but cruelly departs. The flashback ends, and the male and female leads meet again on the street. Countless shots switch between them, showcasing their complex expressions and emotions.

"Hey, Captain, what would happen if you ran into your ex-girlfriend?"

Meng Run, ever the gossip, had barely finished speaking when he remembered that the captain was a lifelong bachelor, and his question was a real sore spot.

Just as he was about to apologize, he saw Zong Linhan frown as he bit into his toast, and with the air of someone drinking alcohol, he downed his coffee in one gulp.

The cup slammed heavily onto the table. Zong Linhan remained expressionless. "A suicide pact."

Meng Run: "..."

Sigh, single people just have unrealistic fantasies about love.

-

"A celebrity is coming to our store tomorrow!"

At 10 p.m., a thunderclap suddenly sounded from the ground: as soon as the store manager released the message, the group chat erupted in celebration of the New Year.

"Really?? Is she an internet celebrity or a star?"

Are you here to film a movie?

"Manager, now that you're rich, you can even hire celebrities for advertising!"

When Wen Zhiling saw the message, she almost dropped the hairdryer on her foot. Brushing aside her wet hair, she squatted down next to the charging cable to read the message.

Everyone started chatting excitedly in the group chat, their phones vibrating non-stop, and their fingertips quickly got hot.

Her first thought was of Zong Linhan; what if she really ran into him...

She casually inquired, "Who is it, store manager?"

"Zhao Jinyao!! I wish for Yaoyao!!"

"The store manager said she's a celebrity, but isn't Yao's status high enough?"

"Yu Yu, my beautiful Yu! A work of art in the modeling world! Ahhhhhh!"

"Family members, it's a celebrity!! I bet it's Xu Chenchen! He's been super popular lately! And isn't he also in Jingnan City? I bet fifty yuan!"

"Look at Xu Chenchen, and then look at our store manager's wallet. He can afford to hire Xu Chenchen, but he doesn't have money to pay our salaries, does he?"

"Who is it?! Shop manager, come out here!!!"

"Left hook, right hook.gif"

“Screaming Chicken.jpg”

The group chat was flooded with names, like a chain reaction. Wen Zhiling's hands were numb from shaking, and her legs were numb from squatting. She stared at her phone screen as if she were waiting for the King of Hell to announce the Book of Life and Death.

Ten minutes later, the store manager, who had been keeping everyone in suspense, finally arrived late.

He made a pretentious comment: "Hey, you guys are getting too excited. He's just a celebrity, what's so interesting about him?"

He deliberately acted sarcastic, "Just arrived in the big city to work and see the world, little chicks?"

The shop assistants ganged up on him, and one of them took a screenshot of the taxi-hailing interface, threatening to come to his home and drag him to the countryside to beat him up if he didn't post it.

The store manager posted a few trembling emojis. To be honest, Wen Zhiling also opened the taxi-hailing interface and considered joining the army to beat up the store manager.

The store manager quoted Wen Zhiling, "Anyway, it's not the one you're criticizing."

This relieved her, and she stopped paying attention to the other shop assistants' excited inquiries.

The next morning, when I checked the messages, I found that everyone had been making a fuss until midnight. The store manager was just playing a game of charades, throwing out possibilities like "thick eyebrows and big eyes," "very tall," and "your guesses are pretty close," but he wouldn't give me the answer.

I sent out red envelopes in the group at midnight, sneakily telling everyone to go to sleep early so they could see them first thing tomorrow morning.

The next day, to match the event, everyone arrived two hours earlier than usual. The lights were brighter than usual, and the bar was nicely decorated with desserts.

Around 10 o'clock, a black minivan stopped at the entrance, and a very thin girl got out, followed by her assistant holding an umbrella. Another car then pulled up and a group of staff members got out.

The answer has finally been revealed: the person who rented the venue for a day to shoot promotional materials was a minor celebrity, someone who would be ranked as low as the 36th level.

Even though she wasn't particularly famous, she was still a very beautiful and elegant girl. After a brief moment of disappointment, the staff were still very happy and were much more proactive than usual in helping out or providing desserts and drinks.

The photoshoot was in full swing, with the girl posing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, but she couldn't seem to achieve the effect the cameraman wanted, and the atmosphere became somewhat dull.

The store manager, noticing this, quietly asked Wen Zhiling and Xiao Meng to make ten iced lattes and deliver them during their break to help ease the tension.

Wen Zhiling placed the latte on the small table. A staff member, who also liked coffee, naturally struck up a conversation with her, asking what kind of coffee beans it was and how fragrant it tasted.

Wen Zhiling smiled as she answered, when she suddenly caught a very familiar scent. She paused abruptly. The scent was unique; it wasn't the sweetness of milk, nor the burnt aroma of roasted coffee beans, but rather a sweet citrus fragrance.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, a black car was parked at the entrance. The door opened, and a tall, slender man stepped out. A white shirt accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist, giving him an air of ascetic elegance. The cuffs were slightly rolled up, revealing a section of his forearm, which was fair and bright in the sunlight. His legs, encased in jeans, were particularly long, straight, and handsome.

People with outstanding looks are naturally radiant, possessing an amazing attraction that makes them instantly noticeable in any scene, even from afar.

He walked into the store. The familiar scent that gripped Wen Zhiling's nerves grew closer and closer, and she was almost overwhelmed by the strong citrus aroma.

Wen Zhiling bit her tongue, drawing a little blood, and quickly hid in the kitchen.

A note from the author:

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The previous chapter had some plot revisions; those interested can reread it.

It's been a long time since I've written anything. I'm having so many writer's block, and I'm always dissatisfied with it, wanting to go back and revise it. quq