Irregular heartbeat
Zhou Jianxing almost staggered out of the magnificent exit of Lanyue Bay.
The security guard at the door gave her a slightly surprised look, which made her even more embarrassed and unable to raise her head. She almost ran towards her weathered second-hand electric scooter parked on the side of the road.
The afternoon sun was scorching, sending up waves of heat as it shone on the scorching asphalt road.
The inexplicable heat in Zhou Jianxing's body and the burning sensation on his face became more and more intense.
"Buzz--" the electric scooter started and carried her into the bustling city traffic.
The image of Wen Lingyi's pale pink fingertips resting on her fair chest appeared in her mind again.
A storm brewed within me.
Her heartbeat was like an out-of-control drum, pounding against her chest and causing her chest to ache.
He shook his head violently, trying to get rid of the white skin with swaying light spots and the seductive outline from his mind, but his cheeks burned even more.
"Zhou Jianxing! What are you thinking about! That's the owner! A married woman! Are you sick?" She scolded herself harshly.
·
Zhou Jianxing's home is in an old staff family compound in the old city.
Magnolia Garden, because the main greening tree species in the community are magnolia trees.
The gray cement exterior walls bear traces of time, and the corridor is filled with the smoky aroma of dinner from every household.
Pushing open the familiar green iron door with slightly peeling paint, the warmth and sense of security of home hits you.
"Xingxing is back? Why is she a little late today?" Zhou Shufen, wearing an apron, poked her head out of the kitchen with a spatula in her hand.
"Yeah, Mom, we went to a community farther away." Zhou Jianxing responded vaguely, put down the heavy tool bag, and changed into slippers.
In the living room, Zhou Jianjun was wearing reading glasses and concentrating on repairing a kitchen faucet that was leaking a little.
He is a skilled worker in an old machinery factory. He is taciturn but dexterous and meticulous. If something breaks at home, he can always find a way to fix it.
Zhou Jianxing's choice of career as a maintenance worker was largely influenced by his father.
When Zhou Jianxing was still unable to reach the workbench, Zhou Jianjun repaired various "struck" objects at home, such as squeaking benches, poorly contacted lamps, and leaking faucets - these became her most fascinating "performances."
When she was little, she would bring a small stool and sit quietly by the side, supporting her chin with both hands, staring at her father's big hands that were covered with motor oil but extremely dexterous with her big amber eyes without blinking.
The air was filled with a faint smell of engine oil and the rosin of solder.
Zhou Jianjun doesn't talk much, he is always silent and focused, his calloused fingers either turning wrenches, fiddling with tiny parts, or carefully soldering circuits.
Zhou Jianxing always felt a wonderful sense of satisfaction when he watched those cold, broken instruments being disassembled, inspected, repaired, and reassembled bit by bit by his father, and finally coming back to life, making smooth sounds or emitting warm light.
Gradually, she was no longer satisfied with just watching.
Her father handed her an old alarm clock to "study" or asked her to help hold a part that needed to be fixed.
When her little hands actually touched the gears, screws, and springs, a strange sense of connection arose spontaneously.
As she concentrated on trying to tighten a stubborn screw, or held her breath while picking up a tiny resistor with tweezers, the whole world seemed to quiet down.
The hustle and bustle outside the window and my mother's nagging seemed to become distant.
In her eyes and heart, the only thing left under her fingertips was the thing that needed to be "healed".
Feeling the cool touch of the metal, observing the exquisite structure, and thinking about the crux of the problem.
In this kind of undivided concentration, time seems to lose its scale.
When she finally fixed a stuck drawer slide or got a broken fan working again, she would often look up to find that the sunlight outside had quietly crept over the window frame, casting long shadows.
She was deeply fascinated by the pure sense of accomplishment of solving a problem and the sense of immersion in the work, where time slipped by without her noticing.
For her, repair is not just about restoring items, but more like entering a wonderful little world that requires patience, observation and ingenuity.
In this world, focus is the only pass.
Successfully bringing something back to life is the most direct and practical happiness.
·
"Wash your hands and eat." Zhou Jianjun said in a steady voice without even raising his head.
There were three simple dishes and one soup on the table: scrambled eggs with tomatoes, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, braised pork ribs, and seaweed egg drop soup.
Zhou Jianxing buried his head in his food, trying hard to suppress the mess in his mind.
"Which restaurant did you go to today? Is the problem serious?" Zhou Shufen asked habitually while picking up a piece of pork ribs for her daughter.
"Lanyue Bay... I need to repair a crystal chandelier because of poor contact." Zhou Jianxing tried his best to make his voice sound calm.
"Oh, Lanyue Bay? That's where the rich live!" Zhou Shufen exclaimed. "Crystal chandelier? Be careful with that."
"Yeah, I know." Zhou Jianxing responded sullenly, and the dazzling light of the crystal chandelier and the figure of the woman under the chandelier emerged uncontrollably again.
"Xingxing," Zhou Shufen's conversation naturally shifted to the same old topic. "Your Aunt Zhang from next door asked me again today. She said there's a new guy assigned to their unit. He's quite honest and from the local area. Would you like me to introduce you to him?"
"You're 24 years old this year, not a kid anymore, it's time to think about your personal problems. Look at you, dealing with wrenches and screws every day, interacting with uncles, when will you be able to..."
"Mom!" Zhou Jianxing interrupted her mother in a panic. "I just want to work hard, learn some skills, make some money, and find a girlfriend... There's no rush."
She felt a little uneasy.
It’s not that she doesn’t want to, but... she seems to have never had that kind of heart-racing feeling described in novels towards anyone.
She was tall and well-proportioned, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, and a cheerful personality. When she was a student, many people secretly gave her love letters.
But she simply thought it was boring and declined them all.
After I started working, the company basically consisted of old hands or rough young colleagues. We got along like brothers and I never thought about it in that way.
In Zhou Jianxing's opinion, figuring out how to fix a tricky problem is much more interesting than pondering those illusory emotions.
Her emotional experience is like a brand new blank sheet of paper, clean and clear.
The first time she met a strange married woman, she felt an unprecedented feeling.
It made her scared and confused.
What does it feel like to be fluttered? Like today... your heartbeat is so fast it feels like it's about to explode? Your face is so hot you could fry an egg? All you can think about is that person's face and voice?
But…but that’s Mrs. Wen! She’s a woman! And a wealthy, married woman!
This isn't right... This is so weird...
The next second, Zhou Jianxing was stunned. She realized that she had actually connected her strange feeling towards Mrs. Wen with her heartbeat.
What was she, a repairman, thinking about her employer?
No! This is very wrong!
·
At night, Zhou Jianxing lay in his simple but tidy little room.
There were posters of her favorite bands on the wall, and on the bookshelf were professional repair manuals and martial arts novels.
Outside the window is the familiar noise of the family compound, the sound of the neighbor's TV, and the sounds of children playing.
These voices that had made her feel at ease in the past were now unable to calm the turmoil in her heart.
She tossed and turned, and everything about Mrs. Wen played over and over in her mind like a movie.
The moment the door opened, Wen Lingyi's sexy silk suspender dress...
Peach blossom eyes filled with tenderness and sweetness, gentle as water...
The elegant yet subtly alluring scent of perfume...
His scorching gaze made her back feel hot...
The unintentional touch of fingertips when handing water, the strange feeling of ice and fire...
A glimpse down from the ladder... beneath the open neckline... that piece of white skin and undulating curves swaying in the crystal light...
Wen Lingyi was so white, so white that she seemed to be glowing, making her dizzy.
Whenever these images flashed through her mind, a strong throbbing accompanied by a heat would sweep through her body, making her mouth dry and even her breathing difficult.
Something strange seemed to be awakened deep inside her body, with a desire that made her panic.
The last time I felt this way was in high school.
"What's wrong with me?!" She covered her head with the quilt in annoyance.
Wen Lingyi's words, "It suddenly started beating very fast... just like... right now..." echoed in her ears like a spell.
It sounded so blunt and almost explicit, something she had never encountered in her twenty years of conventional and simple life.
It was not just a shock, but also a huge impact on her cognition.
She felt a strong sense of shame, for having been so aroused by those images and touches, for having recalled them... and even... for having a shameful physical reaction.
At the same time, a small voice deep in my heart asked: What does that feel like?
Why... does it make people so... distraught?
In the chaos, she turned over and was pricked by something hard in her trouser pocket when she lay on her side. Then she remembered the stack of money she had stuffed into her pocket during the day.
It was given by Wen Lingyi. It was brand new but wrinkled by Zhou Jianxing.
She counted them carefully one by one: three 20-yuan bills, two 10-yuan bills, a total of 80 yuan, 30 yuan more than the 50 yuan she should have received.
Gave too much.
Zhou Jianxing held the extra thirty yuan tightly in his hand.
This is not right. It’s not your money, you can’t take it.
She was taught from a young age to be an honest person and to earn money in an honest way.
Zhou Jianjun often said: "Craftsmen rely on their real skills to make a living, and every penny they earn must be lived up to their conscience."
The extra money made her feel very uncomfortable.
Got to give it back to her.
She carefully flattened the thirty dollars and placed them separately in a small box in her desk drawer.
·
After taking a shower and changing into pajamas, I lay down again and turned off the lights. The room fell into darkness, with only a faint light coming in from the window.
However, when he closed his eyes, Wen Lingyi's smiling eyes, plump lips, and seductive whispers stubbornly emerged again.
The strange throbbing deep within my body had not completely subsided, and it surged like an undercurrent.
"I must pay back the money tomorrow, and then stay away from Ms. Wen, the farther the better." She said to herself, turned over and buried her face in the pillow.
Zhou Jianxing had an extremely shameful dream at night.
I dreamed of those captivating eyes... I dreamed of snow-white and delicate skin... I dreamed of a sexy and lazy voice that turned into a snake's tongue and drilled into my ears.
Wen Lingyi clung to her like a water snake, and her heartbeat was completely out of control.
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