Lin Chu forced herself to calm down. She walked to the instrument table, picked up a medical mask and put it on, then took a disposable ECG electrode and its lead wires. Only then did she nod and answer as steadily as she could, “Mm, that’s fine.”
Zhou Chengze said nothing more. He raised a hand and began unbuttoning his shirt.
Lin Chu’s gaze fell helplessly on his fingers as he undid the buttons one by one, revealing the lean, solid chest beneath. Her breath caught.
He was in far better shape than she had imagined: broad shoulders and a narrow waist, clearly defined collarbones, and smooth, well-proportioned pectoral muscles. His abs were neatly defined, extending from his chest down to his waist, their healthy sheen catching the light.
They weren’t exaggerated muscles built through deliberate training, but the balanced firmness that came from exercising regularly. Every inch of him radiated strength.
Her gaze settled on his waist and abdomen, and she suddenly remembered that night. In the darkness, her hand had accidentally touched him there.
Back then, dazed by his kisses, she had instinctively pushed against his chest. Her fingertips had met that same sensation—firm and hot, with a distinctly masculine hardness.
At the time, she had thought she’d imagined it. But now the sensation seemed to return, exactly the same as before.
Lin Chu’s ears turned scarlet. She hurriedly looked away and lowered her head to fiddle with the ECG leads in her hands. Her fingers trembled slightly as the wires wound around them several times, refusing to untangle.
Zhou Chengze looked at her flushed earlobes and the tiny mole on one of them. One eyebrow lifted slightly.
He’d seen plenty of doctors, including plenty of women, but she was the first to blush like that over an ECG.
At last, Lin Chu managed to straighten out the wires. She drew a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She was a doctor. This was her job. There was nothing to be nervous about.
She raised her head, trying to keep her gaze strictly professional, and went over to him. “Lie down, please,” she said, doing her best to sound steady.
Zhou Chengze cooperatively lay down on the examination bed, resting his hands naturally at his sides.
Lin Chu held the electrodes and positioned them on his chest. The moment her fingers touched his skin, warmth met her fingertips, and her heart began to race again.
She could feel his body heat, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, even the pulse beating beneath his skin.
Too close.
At this distance, she could smell the faint, clean, woody scent on him, mixed with a trace of tobacco. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it was rather nice.
Chu pressed her lips together and placed the electrodes where they belonged, trying to touch only the electrodes and not his skin. But when she attached the chest leads, her fingertips still brushed against him.
Every touch seemed to kindle a flame inside her. Her breathing grew unsteady, and even through her mask, she could feel how hot her breath was.
Zhou Chengze lay there, his gaze fixed on her.
Her head was bowed. The mask covered most of her face, leaving only her eyes and the bridge of her nose visible. Her lowered lashes trembled faintly, betraying her nervousness.
Her fingers were cool. As she attached the electrodes, her icy fingertips occasionally brushed his skin, sending a faint shiver through him.
The sensation was strange, as if something passed from her fingertips and spread along the surface of his skin. It reminded him of the soft body he had held in his arms that night, which had felt the same.
Especially when she leaned closer, a sweet fragrance drifted faintly from her. Zhou Chengze frowned.
It was very light and sweet, like a blend of flowers and milk—not a strong perfume, but a subtle scent that seemed to come from within her.
He had smelled it before.
That night, in the pitch-dark living room, when he had held Jiang Nai in his arms, this was the scent he’d noticed.
At the time, he’d thought Jiang Nai had switched to a new body wash. But later, he’d paid special attention and learned she used a different brand altogether, with a completely different scent.
He’d assumed Jiang Nai sometimes used different ones and hadn’t thought much of it.
But now Lin Chu had the same scent. Exactly the same.
Zhou Chengze’s brow furrowed more deeply. His gaze lingered on Lin Chu, tinged with curiosity.
Lin Chu was leaning over to attach the chest leads, her body tilted forward, very close to him. The sweet fragrance was even more noticeable now, wafting into his nose in delicate wisps.
Watching her profile, Zhou Chengze noticed her focused eyes and brows, and he suddenly felt something flash through his mind—too quickly to grasp. Before he knew it, he had called her name. “Lin Chu.”
“Hm?” Lin Chu’s fingers paused. She looked up, and their eyes met.
They were so close they could almost see their reflections in each other’s pupils.
Lin Chu’s heart skipped a beat.
They held each other’s gaze for several seconds. An indescribable feeling filled the air between them.
Zhou Chengze’s eyes moved from hers to her earlobes. Seeing how red they were, he suddenly asked, “Are you nervous?”
Lin Chu came back to herself and quickly shook her head, though her voice betrayed her with a stammer. “N-no.”
As she spoke, she instinctively looked away and lowered her head to check the ECG monitor, adjusting its settings.
Watching her deliberately avoid his gaze, Zhou Chengze let out a soft laugh. “There’s nothing between us. Can you act professionally?”
The examination room fell silent for a moment.
Lin Chu stiffened, her fingers tightening around the lead wires.
He was right. There was nothing between them.
That night had been a misunderstanding, an accident. She had no reason to feel guilty. The more she avoided him, the more it would look as if she had something to hide.
She was a doctor, and he was here for a medical examination. That was all.
Lin Chu closed her eyes. When she opened them again, most of the panic had faded, replaced by a thin veneer of composure.
Zhou Chengze’s brow shifted slightly at the sudden change in her manner.
Her movements as she attached the electrodes were precise, her touch just firm enough. With her brows faintly knit in concentration, she looked serious and focused—not like the nervous, evasive Lin Chu, who was as skittish as a little bunny, but like a calm, competent doctor who inspired confidence.
She was almost like a different person from the Lin Chu he remembered: always keeping her head down, speaking softly, and barely making her presence felt.
A few minutes later, Lin Chu’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “The ECG is done. The readings are normal. We’ll just wait for Doctor Fang to come back and review the report.”
As she spoke, she removed the electrodes briskly, without any unnecessary contact.
Zhou Chengze had already sat up on the examination bed. He picked up his shirt and put it on one piece at a time, unhurried and composed, as though the unspoken tension of the past few minutes had never existed.
He fastened the last button and looked at her. “What about the other tests? There’s still blood pressure and a blood draw, right?”
“Those are next door. You can go straight there, and the nurses will take care of you,” Lin Chu explained evenly.
Zhou Chengze nodded, but kept his gaze on her, waiting for her to finish.
Zhou’s gaze made Lin Chu a little uncomfortable, but she continued with what she needed to tell him. “Once you’ve finished all the tests, the report should be ready by Monday. You can come to the hospital to pick it up then, or check the electronic version on your phone.”
“Mm.” Zhou Chengze nodded, then abruptly changed the subject with a completely unrelated question. “What body wash do you use?”
Lin Chu froze, thinking she must have misheard. “What?”
“Your body wash,” Zhou Chengze repeated, his tone casual. “I like the scent on you. I smelled it on Jiang Nai once, too. I meant to ask her, but forgot. I thought I’d buy the same one.”
Lin Chu’s heart sank. She thought again of that night, but now that Zhou Chengze had asked her outright, she didn’t know how to answer.
She always bought whatever body wash happened to be on sale at the supermarket. She never stuck to one brand. The one she was using these days was lavender-scented; in a few days, she might switch to something else.
Lin Chu’s fingers curled slightly. She thought fast and casually named a brand. “L’Occitane. Cherry blossom.”
Zhou Chengze nodded, seeming to believe her, and didn’t ask anything more.
Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID. It was Jiang Nai.
“Mm, I’m done with the checkup. Everything looks fine. Lin Chu helped me,” he said, his gaze brushing over Lin Chu.
Jiang Nai’s voice on the other end had a coaxing, affectionate lilt. “Then will you come pick me up? I just landed, and I’m exhausted.”
The corner of Zhou Chengze’s mouth lifted slightly. “Sure. Where are you?”
Jiang Nai gave him a location. Zhou Chengze acknowledged it and hung up, then instinctively looked up at Lin Chu.
Lin Chu had already lowered her head. He had no idea what she was looking at; all he knew was that she wouldn’t look at him. She acted as if they had done something shameful and were afraid someone might find out.
Zhou Chengze frowned slightly. That strange feeling rose in him again.
But he couldn’t put his finger on what was wrong, so Zhou set the thought aside and said to Lin Chu, “See you Monday.”
At that, Lin Chu almost instinctively looked up and blurted, “You don’t need to come see me on Monday, Zhou…”
(End)