Zhou Mi was initially confused, but after understanding Zhang Lian’s meaning, she wasn’t particularly surprised.

Zhang Lian had always been an attentive person. He had once deduced her personal preferences from the style of her hair tie, and during their second encounter, brought her a dessert along with a short wallet adorned with cherries.

The wallet was indeed cute, a style Zhou Mi had long coveted, but it came from a brand with prices that weren’t exactly friendly.

Her first reaction was to refuse.

She was still a student with limited personal income, clearly unable to afford equivalent expenditures, so she cautiously declined: “I’m afraid I can’t accept this, because I can’t give you a gift of equal value.”

Zhang Lian broke into a smile. His pupils had a brownish tint, and when his eyes curved, they appeared particularly gentle, like a cup of plum wine that had been warmed for a long time—swaying, rippling, easily intoxicating people in this subtle feeling of affection.

He seemed somewhat helpless: “Why do you view our relationship as some kind of transaction?”

In the end, Zhou Mi only accepted the dessert, and mischievously smeared cream on his lips, then pressed her palms together sweetly, squeezing out an awkward Japanese phrase: “I’m going to dig in,” naturally transforming the transaction into a connection.

At that time, she could never have imagined the current scene.

Connection turned back into a transaction.

The ultrasound report in her hand had also become an important part of the agreement.

The hospital corridor was like a long gray-white oil painting, encompassing all the complexities of human existence. They were two brush strokes within it, standing face to face.

Zhou Mi tore open the mask packaging and concealed herself once more.

Zhang Lian asked her: “What next?”

Zhou Mi said, “Take the report to the doctor.”

Zhang Lian finally lowered his head to examine the report he hadn’t been paying attention to, then pointed at a small shadowy area in the image on the right, casually asking: “Is this the baby?”

His wording was too bizarre, and Zhou Mi felt strangely embarrassed: “What are you talking about?”

She frowned uncomfortably, unconsciously adopting an impatient tone: “It should be that sack thing.”

An older woman near them heard this and laughed, turning to look at this “heavenly couple” she had already noticed, and helpfully explained: “That’s the gestational sac.”

She continued: “First pregnancy, right?”

She leaned closer to examine the report in Zhang Lian’s hand: “Oh? There’s no fetal heartbeat yet. Don’t worry, go back and wait a week or so, and it’ll be there.”

Zhang Lian thanked her in response but didn’t continue the conversation.

Zhou Mi placed the back of her hand against her forehead, turning her face away to exhale.

Suffocating awkwardness was steaming, spreading.

Zhang Lian promptly broke the stalemate: “Let’s talk outside.”

Zhou Mi followed him step by step, stopping at a position near the door in the hospital lobby. The rain’s moisture seeped in faintly from behind the heavy door curtains, diluting that indescribable atmosphere from before.

Zhou Mi exhaled lightly as if liberated: “Aren’t we showing it to the doctor?”

Zhang Lian asked: “And then what?”

Zhou Mi shrugged: “Don’t you know what happens next?”

Her attitude had returned to a kind of indifference that was hard to distinguish as genuine or fake, completely different from her tearful, helpless demeanor on the phone earlier.

Zhang Lian was too lazy to analyze this and simply clarified the purpose of this trip: “If you don’t mind, I’ll take you to another private hospital. The deputy director is my friend, and the experience should be better than here.”

Recalling the scene in the ultrasound room, Zhou Mi’s heart skipped: “Which one?”

Zhang Lian said, “Chenghe Medical.”

Zhou Mi had heard of this one. It was quite famous in Yi City, with a reputation no less than public tertiary hospitals.

After a brief consideration, she nodded in agreement.

“Let’s go,” Zhang Lian took the lead, lifting the door curtain, waiting for her to pass under his arm before following.

It was still raining outside. Zhou Mi stopped on the steps and took out her umbrella from her bag.

Her umbrella was completely transparent, wrapped in a plastic bag with text on it. Zhang Lian glanced at it a couple of times, determining it was a shopping bag from a roadside supermarket.

He imperceptibly curled his lips.

Much earlier, he had roughly figured out Zhou Mi’s temperament and family background, even though their time together could be considered quite brief.

This girl unconsciously revealed some rather commonplace details about herself, yet contradictorily possessed an unaffected romantic innocence. He guessed she was still studying, majoring in humanities, a native of Yi City, living in an old residential complex with some history, with a standard middle-class living standard, probably having a good relationship with her parents, and having received appropriate care since childhood.

All of these were confirmed through Zhou Mi’s resume on the day they met in the elevator.

Her introduction wasn’t a formulaic template, but rather a very nice PDF with clear, powerful content that wasn’t boring to read.

These were enough to show that she was a confident, beautiful girl full of thoughts and energy.

Subsequently, he patiently followed up for several days and discovered more of her merits: sensibility, adherence to rules, and knowing how to assess situations.

These qualities were rare for someone her age.

But now it seemed quite the contrary.

Still just a young girl after all.

The pop of Zhou Mi opening her umbrella interrupted his thoughts. Zhang Lian’s gaze returned to her, raising his hand to indicate he would hold the umbrella.

But in the next moment, Zhou Mi walked down the steps, ignoring him completely, head held high, transforming from an ostrich burying its head in sand to a proud little peacock.

Zhang Lian laughed inwardly and quickly stepped to her side, pulling her arm: “Where are you running off to?”

Zhou Mi stopped in her tracks, her eyes dark and shiny under the umbrella, looking at him uncomprehendingly.

Zhang Lian said, “Are you planning to take a taxi to Chenghe by yourself?”

He tilted his head, gesturing towards where they had just been standing: “Go back up the steps and wait. I’ll go get the car.”

Zhou Mi froze, immediately turned and retraced her steps, then closed her umbrella.

Zhang Lian also followed back, handing out the ultrasound report. Zhou Mi reached for it, but he didn’t let go, pulling back and forth a couple of times until Zhou Mi lost patience: “Give it to me.”

Zhang Lian proposed an exchange: “The umbrella.”

Zhou Mi withdrew her now effortless fingers: “Forget it, you keep it, your precious baby.”

Zhang Lian stared at her, perhaps due to the backlighting under the eaves, his gaze darkened somewhat, like facing a bottomless well in the black night. The next second, he forcibly pulled the umbrella away, with a calm tone that concealed a warning: “Zhou Mi, I am your boss.”

“Huh?” Zhou Mi’s hand was suddenly empty. She was first shocked by his threatening words, then pointed at him across the space: “How can you abuse your authority like this?”

Zhang Lian glanced at her harmless gesture, with a half-smile: “Before saying such things, first clarify whether you’ve already tacitly acknowledged having special privileges.”

Zhou Mi was speechless, her chest heaving rapidly, unable to think of any words to refute him. She slowly lowered her hand, making no further sound.

Zhang Lian stopped this self-admittedly boring confrontation, restored his attitude, and took up the umbrella: “Don’t run off, wait for me here.”

Zhou Mi made a sound like “Oh,” so low it was almost inaudible, as if she had merely made a perfunctory lip movement.

A few minutes later, Zhang Lian drove the car over.

He glanced sideways out the window, one hand resting on the steering wheel, smiling wryly.

As expected, on the steps of the outpatient department’s main entrance, there remained only rain and crowds, with no sight of Zhou Mi.

—

On the way back, Zhang Lian connected his Bluetooth earpiece and returned a call to a friend.

After hearing the whole story, the other party burst into laughter: “I’ve already arranged things for you twice, and it’s this difficult to bring her over? Three strikes and you’re out—if you don’t come next time, I’m not handling this matter for you anymore.”

Zhang Lian also laughed helplessly: “Just think about how many times I’ve been stood up.”

His friend said, “You shouldn’t even bother with her. From what you’re saying, you don’t even know if it’s yours. Don’t be someone’s fall guy.”

Zhang Lian slowed to a stop at a red light, his gaze growing distant: “I honestly don’t care much whether it’s mine or not. I just want a clean break.”

After returning to the company, he arrived unprecedentedly early, looking around to see barely any heads.

Before going to his office, Zhang Lian took a detour and, sure enough, saw Zhou Mi’s head sticking up. She was wearing a mint green cardigan, curled up at her workstation, half her body hidden by surrounding green plants and stacked files, looking very much like a quiet kingfisher beneath dense leaves.

She stared intently at her computer, but wasn’t doing anything, completely motionless, as if in a daze.

Zhang Lian withdrew his gaze, looked down at the umbrella in the bag, and called over the cleaning lady who was approaching: “Go ask whose this is.”

The auntie hurriedly took it, responding with a “yes.”

Zhang Lian inconspicuously glanced at Zhou Mi again, then walked back to his own office.

—

Zhou Mi was surprised when asked about it, cautiously scanning left, right, back, and forth to confirm no enemy targets within several miles before claiming: “It’s mine.”

Seeing this, the cleaning lady smiled and said: “Mr. Zhang found it.”—In the entire company, only the cleaning lady addressed him this way; everyone else called him boss or by his English name.

Zhou Mi placed the bag with the umbrella in her desk drawer: “Oh.”

By now, it was past ten, and employees were gradually arriving at the company.

As soon as Ye Yan arrived, she hurriedly passed some work to Zhou Mi: “Minnie, help me screenshot this short video, then translate the English into Chinese and put it at the top, using the same color font. When you’re done, package it for me. I need to put it in my PowerPoint, it’s urgent… Oh? You came in today?”

She suddenly realized.

Zhou Mi smiled slightly, lying without blushing: “My roommate got the date wrong, it’s not today.”

Ye Yan didn’t ask further, holding a protein bar between her teeth as she quickly forwarded an email.

After finishing these tasks, she finally had time to take a bite.

With a crisp crunch, Zhou Mi’s stomach growled along with it. She suddenly remembered she had been worried about having a blood test requiring fasting, so she hadn’t had breakfast yet.

Well, she was already full of anger anyway.

After watching the short video and getting a general idea, Zhou Mi went to the break room for a cup of water. Her gaze swept over the nearby counter, which had fruits, tea bags, and coffee capsules.

Being new, she felt somewhat cautious about taking anything to satisfy her hunger, like a guest hesitant to impose. She could only sigh and walk back.

Just as she was about to reach her workstation, Zhou Mi’s phone suddenly rang. Answering, she discovered it was a food delivery call.

She hadn’t ordered anything, and repeatedly confirmed this, but the caller insisted it was for her.

Filled with doubt, she went to the first floor where a delivery person in a red jacket from McDonald’s met her eyes and quickly approached: “Are you Zhou Mi?”

Zhou Mi nodded.

The delivery guy handed her a paper bag: “There’s a drink inside, please be careful carrying it. Enjoy your meal.”

Zhou Mi took it with one hand, still feeling a bit dazed.

With her brows slightly furrowed and a puzzled expression, she went upstairs, sat back at her workstation, and then opened the paper bag to peek inside. It contained a cup of soy milk and a sausage egg burger.

Ye Yan, typing furiously at the keyboard next door, caught the aroma and glanced over: “You’re just having breakfast too?”

Zhou Mi scratched her forehead a couple of times, still somewhat confused, and responded with a delayed “Mmm.”

A moment later, she realized what was happening and alertly straightened her spine, as if an invisible monitoring device had appeared above her head.

A mixture of anger and embarrassment surged from her brain to her face. Zhou Mi puffed out her cheeks, grabbed her phone from the desk, and texted Zhang Lian: You ordered this, right?

After waiting anxiously for a few minutes, he replied, admitting it frankly and casually:

Eat it, it’s not poisoned.