Ji Chang’s stare made Nie Yijun incredibly self-conscious. She tried to pull away, but Chi Mu reached out and pressed a hand firmly against the back of Nie Yijun’s head. Their lips crashed together with enough force that Nie Yijun could feel her own teeth.
She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but finally, the hand behind her head vanished, and the sensation on her lips followed suit. Nie Yijun’s unfocused eyes finally regained their clarity.
The face she saw before her wasn’t her own reflection—it was Chi Mu, sitting in the passenger seat.
They were back.
Chi Mu rolled down the window and stuck her head out. “What are you doing?”
Ji Chang, having witnessed the entire kiss, closed his mouth and clicked off his phone’s flashlight. “I forgot my bag. I came back to get it.”
He walked over to the driver’s side and tapped on the glass.
Snapping out of her daze, Nie Yijun rolled down her window.
“You two.” Ji Chang leaned down, peering inside at them. “Are you together?”
“None of your business,” Chi Mu cut in. She found Ji Chang utterly intolerable tonight; if he dared to ask one more question, she might actually lose her temper and hit him.
“Right,” Ji Chang scratched his head. “I just didn’t expect it. I thought you two always hated each other, and besides, you’re both Alphas.”
“Rich people’s twisted hobbies,” Chi Mu snapped. “Got a problem with that?”
At those words, Nie Yijun turned her head to look at her in surprise.
Ji Chang rested both hands on the window frame. “Chi Mu, are you in a bad mood or something?”
“Yes!” Chi Mu gritted her teeth. “Now that you’ve noticed, get lost.”
“Alright, alright,” Ji Chang said. “I’ll treat you to dinner another time when you have a chance.”
Before leaving, he reached in and patted Nie Yijun’s shoulder.
Nie Yijun rolled up the window. “Why are you taking your anger out on the class monitor?”
Chi Mu didn’t know how to explain it. She let out a heavy sigh. “Do you know why he wanted to have dinner with you tonight?”
“Why?”
“He wanted you to talk to your Director Lu and pull some strings for him. He wants to start some kind of medical team with those other classmates,” Chi Mu explained.
“Impossible,” Nie Yijun refused flatly. “I won’t get involved in helping with something like that.”
Chi Mu blinked. The frustration she’d been harboring suddenly vanished at Nie Yijun’s blunt refusal. Sometimes, Nie Yijun’s low-EQ way of shutting things down was incredibly refreshing.
“Then tell him yourself next time.” Chi Mu’s mood finally brightened a little.
Nie Yijun pulled out her phone, intending to clarify things with Ji Chang, but saw several WeChat messages sent ten minutes ago by Lu Nianyun.
Lu Nianyun: Dr. Nie, which of these two dresses do you think looks better?
Below were two photos of Lu Nianyun wearing the dresses.
Nie Yijun frowned slightly and showed the screen to Chi Mu. “What is this about?”
Chi Mu took a look, tapped on the photos to compare them, and said, “The pink one is better. It suits her.”
“I’m asking you what happened.” Nie Yijun retracted her phone.
Chi Mu shrugged. “How should I know?”
She couldn’t be bothered to tell Nie Yijun too much. Let this dull person figure it out for herself.
“Don’t have any contact with her outside of work,” Nie Yijun said, choosing to ignore Lu Nianyun’s messages.
“Let’s put that aside for a second,” Chi Mu said. “Do you think we’ve switched back for good this time, or is it just temporary again?”
Nie Yijun looked up from her phone at Chi Mu. “It’s currently 9:53 PM. We swapped back around 9:40.”
Chi Mu looked at her, understanding exactly what she meant. The clock was starting.
Since they hadn’t found a pattern for the soul-swapping yet, it was essential to keep track.
Chi Mu leaned back in her office chair the next morning, deep in thought. If this was only temporary and she and Nie Yijun were going to keep switching indefinitely, what would she do?
Nie Yijun’s job was no joke, it was a matter of life and death at any given moment. Chi Mu didn’t dare shoulder that kind of responsibility.
It was irritating. Her own life was supposed to be carefree.
“Did the draft pass?”
“The new winter line was rejected several times. Zizhen’s should have passed though.”
Voices drifted from behind her, followed by the scent of pheromones. Chi Mu raised a hand and waved. “Good morning!”
The two women walking in stopped dead in their tracks.
Chi Mu swiveled her chair around to face them. She glanced at their ID badges: Li Rui and Pan Yuyao. She pointed to a small diamond hairclip on the Omega, Pan Yuyao. “Nice clip. It matches your dress today.”
Pan Yuyao touched her hairclip and managed a forced smile. “Thanks.”
The two sat at their desks. Pan Yuyao’s station was to Chi Mu’s left. Chi Mu turned her chair that way and stared at her intently.
Pan Yuyao became incredibly uncomfortable. “Is, is there something on me?”
“No, I’m just looking at you,” Chi Mu said. “By the way, I should apologize. On my first day, I was so busy sleeping that I didn’t get a chance to say hello properly.”
As she spoke, the remaining colleagues walked in. Chi Mu greeted each of them one by one.
Everyone was flattered and responded with smiles, except for the Omega on her right.
Chi Mu swiveled her chair to the right. It was a very beautiful Omega with long, black curly hair and a cool, aloof aura.
She checked the ID badge: Qin Zizhen.
“Hello,” Chi Mu reached out a hand. “I look forward to working with you.”
Qin Zizhen didn’t even spare her a glance. She remained busy with her work, completely ignoring Chi Mu’s extended hand.
OK, so she’s one of those ‘ice queen’ Omegas.
Chi Mu retracted her hand. In any other setting, Chi Mu’s competitive streak would have kicked in, and she’d have felt the need to win her over. But at work, she couldn’t be bothered.
She had enough problems on her plate without trying to entertain someone who wanted nothing to do with her. Besides, who knew how much longer she’d even be at this job?
Team Leader Han was the last to arrive. As she passed the workstation, she beckoned to Chi Mu. “Come here.”
Chi Mu followed her.
Team Leader Han opened her office door and said, “Same as yesterday: sort the drafts, label the samples, and take the rejects to the warehouse.”
Same as yesterday? So Nie Yijun actually did real work yesterday.
Chi Mu wasn’t having it. She spread her hands and said, “Can’t do it. I have a headache today.”
“Is your head still hurting?” Nie Yijun asked a patient.
The patient nodded. “Since last night. The medicine isn’t helping at all.”
Nie Yijun examined her gland and instructed the nurse, “Schedule a CT scan for her immediately.”
“Right away,” the nurse noted.
“Doctor,” the female patient said, lying face down on the bed. “Can I have some painkillers or a shot? It hurts too much.”
“I can only arrange that once the scan is done and I see what the situation is,” Nie Yijun said. “Try to bear with it.”
“How long will that take?”
“Two hours.”
“What?” The patient looked pained. “It really hurts, Doctor. Isn’t there anything you can do to make it stop?”
Nie Yijun shook her head. “Just hold on a little longer.”
The patient buried her face in her pillow, silenced by the pain.
Nie Yijun urged the nurse to move quickly. As she walked out of the ward, she glanced back. The patient was clutching her blanket tightly, biting the pillow. You could see the sheer agony on her face.
Nie Yijun suddenly thought of Chi Mu, who was terrified of pain—the kind of person who would wail as if the world were ending over a minor scrape.
Not everyone had a high pain tolerance like she did.
“Xiao Lu, give the patient in Bed 089 half a tablet of Phos-Morphin,” Nie Yijun told the nurse.
“Painkillers?” The nurse was surprised. “Before the scan is finished?”
“Half a tablet won’t interfere with anything,” Nie Yijun said.
In Nie Yijun’s worldview, as long as it wasn’t life-threatening, any pain was endurable. That was how she lived her own life, and she did it well. Doctors could cure diseases, but they couldn’t always “cure” pain; often, pain was a necessary part of the healing process.
She pushed open her office door to find Lu Nianyun standing by her desk.
“You’re very early today,” Lu Nianyun smiled. “The nurses said you were already doing rounds at dawn. By the way, I bought you breakfast. I tried a different coffee today; guess what it is.”
A brown paper bag sat on the desk.
Nie Yijun moved the bag aside. “I’ve already eaten. You don’t need to buy me breakfast anymore.”
“Oh?” Lu Nianyun blinked, stunned.
Nie Yijun took off her white coat. “Go change into your scrubs. You’re coming into the operating room with me.”
Lu Nianyun remained in a daze. Today’s Nie Yijun was like a completely different person from yesterday’s.
“You don’t want to go into surgery?” Nie Yijun glanced at her.
“Oh, no, no,” Lu Nianyun grabbed the paper bag. “I’ll go change right now.”
She hurried away clutching the bag. Nie Yijun’s lips were pressed thin. If she and Chi Mu had truly swapped back for good, then fine—but if this was temporary, she was going to have to have a serious talk with her.
She took off her wristwatch and checked the time.
9:30 AM. Exactly twelve hours had passed.
By 6:30 PM, the forty-fifth hour had just passed. Chi Mu, having spent another day loafing around at the company, yawned as she clocked out.
As she entered the elevator, she saw Chi Xi and her assistant.
She stood at the far edge of the elevator, scrolling through WeChat to decide on tonight’s activities. Should she go bowling? Play pool? Or maybe just go watch Zhao Tongtong’s dance practice?
Chi Xi watched Chi Mu through the reflection in the elevator doors. “How was work today?”
“No idea,” Chi Mu said. “I played games all day.”
Chi Xi, who already knew the truth, gave a subtle nod. “Not coming home for dinner?”
Ding.
The elevator reached the first floor just in time. Chi Mu stepped out quickly, leaving Chi Xi without an answer. Chi Xi braced herself against the elevator door, stepping out on her prosthetic leg to follow.
By the time she made it outside, Chi Mu had already driven off. She was moving so fast it made Chi Xi’s heart leap in fear.
Only after she was a mile away did Chi Mu finally slow down. She placed a call to Zhao Tongtong.
“Sis!” Zhao Tongtong’s voice chirped happily through the car’s audio system, instantly lifting Chi Mu’s spirits.
“Are you busy?”
“Yeah! I’m out of town actually; I won’t be back for a few days.”
“How come you’re out of town?”
“A last-minute performance,” Zhao Tongtong explained. “Were you looking for me, Sis?”
“Yeah, I haven’t seen you dance in a few days and I missed you,” Chi Mu said, hitting the brakes. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a show?”
“It’s in Yuecheng—it’s too far away,” Zhao Tongtong giggled. “I’ll definitely let you know ahead of time for the upcoming show in Fenglan City.”
“Alright. Good luck with the performance. Let me know when you’re back.”
Chi Mu hung up. With Zhao Tongtong away from the city, she suddenly felt aimless. She began scrolling through WeChat to see which Omegas she could ask out tonight.
Buzz. Her phone vibrated with a new message.
Nie Yijun: We might swap tonight. You’d better not be in any situation I wouldn’t want to deal with including your Omegas.
Tsk. Honestly, Nie Yijun had a real talent for killing the mood.
Chi Mu abandoned her plans to go out and made a U-turn for home.
No matter. Even if I end up in Nie Yijun’s body, it won’t stop me from having fun.
When she arrived home, the family was just sitting down for dinner. Chi Xi let out a mock “Yo” when she saw her. “I thought you were eating out again tonight.”
Chi Mu gave Aunt Gao a sweet smile. “Auntie, could you grab me a bowl of rice?”
She picked up her chopsticks, stuffed a rib into her mouth, and added, “I never said I was eating out.”
“Oh,” Chi Xi said, ladling a bowl of soup for Chi Zhe. “I suppose spending two days playing games at the office is exhausting work, isn’t it?”
Chi Mu knew she was doing it on purpose to provoke their father.
Sure enough, her father shot Chi Mu a look that could kill. Chi Mu set her chopsticks down, putting on her best “good girl” act. “Father, I really don’t know anything about design, and I’m not interested in it.”
Chi Zhe put his chopsticks down as well, his face reflecting a helplessness that had moved past anger. “Then tell me, what are you interested in? There are so many companies under the group—pick one. I don’t expect you to reach General Manager like Xiao Xi, but I want you to hold down a proper, professional job.”
“I don’t know how to do anything.” Chi Mu said, cautiously gauging her father’s expression. “And I’m not interested in anything.”
Her father’s face darkened, and her mother, Shi Ya, added fuel to the fire. “She’s only interested in eating, drinking, and playing.”
“That’s right,” Chi Mu smiled at her mother across the table. “Mom knows me best.”
“Presumptuous!” Chi Zhe slammed his hand on the table. Terrified, Chi Mu instantly wiped the smile off her face.
“Father, please don’t be angry,” Chi Mu whispered. “I’ll be good. Haven’t I been going to work every day lately?”
“Sleeping and playing games, that is what you call ‘being good’ at work?” Chi Zhe’s voice was icy. “I’m embarrassed to even call you my daughter.”
Chi Mu fell silent, knowing further talk would only ignite his temper. She picked up her chopsticks and ate small, quiet mouthfuls of rice, barely daring to move.
Once she finished, she didn’t linger, heading straight upstairs as soon as she put her bowl down.
She spent some time on the third floor hitting a punching bag until she was drenched in sweat, finally collapsing onto the floor to catch her breath.
The chandelier above stung her eyes, so she closed them, soaking in the silence. The entire third floor was her domain; aside from Aunt Gao coming up to clean during the day, no one else ever came up.
It was deathly quiet, the only sound the rhythmic rise and fall of her own breathing.
After lying there for a long time, she got up and used her fingerprint to unlock her bedroom. The darkness of the room felt like a sanctuary.
She navigated through the dark to the desk and turned on the speakers.
“Don’t tell me it’s not worth trying for.”
As the music drifted through the air, Chi Mu rose onto her tiptoes, lifted a leg, pirouetted, and landed steadily.
A smirk played on her lips; it felt as though she had found her true self again.
Suddenly, a familiar surge of pain flooded her head. Chi Mu collapsed against the desk and hurriedly shut off the music.