Chi Mu had mentally prepared herself, knowing her “other self” had saved a life the day before. However, she didn’t expect to walk into the office and find even more people looking at her with newfound respect.
Aside from Qin Zizhen, who was still recovering in the hospital, the rest of the office swarmed her just as they had on her first day.
“Chi Mu, you’re incredible! You spotted Zizhen’s problem in a heartbeat.”
“That was so professional.”
“Please, accept my total adoration!”
Chi Mu offered a stiff, superficial smile. “I studied medicine; I just know a little bit of emergency first aid.”
“No wonder!” Everyone looked as if they had just reached an epiphany.
“Then why aren’t you a doctor?” Jin Yihao, who sat across from her, asked curiously.
“Being a doctor is too exhausting,” Chi Mu said with a yawn. “I’m not cut out for that kind of hardship.”
The group nodded, her blunt honesty leaving them unsure of how to follow up.
Chi Mu waved them off. “You guys get to work. I’m going to take a nap.”
They exchanged puzzled glances. Chi Mu’s attitude was a total enigma to them—intensely professional one moment, completely “salted fish” the next.
Chi Mu didn’t care what they thought, nor was she worried about the jarring contrast between her behavior and Nie Yijun’s. She only cared about her own comfort; when it was time to sleep, she slept, and when it was time to clock out and play, she played.
Yet, as she stood in the billiards hall later that evening, she found herself strangely bored. After a few sips of her drink, she tossed her cue to a nearby waiter and nodded to her friends. “You guys have fun. Put the tab on my account. I’m heading out.”
Ignoring their questions, she left and climbed into her car, only to realize she had nowhere to go. It was still early and she didn’t want to go home. She had plenty of friends, but not one who could soothe the restless irritation brewing inside her.
What exactly was she irritated about? Even Chi Mu didn’t know.
It wasn’t that she was entirely without options. At the very least, there was one person whose fate was currently tied to hers even if that person was incredibly annoying.
Chi Mu pulled a U-turn and headed toward the hospital.
Truthfully, while Nie Yijun was irritating, bickering with her and teasing that older, low-EQ, single doctor was actually quite entertaining.
Chi Mu parked right next to Nie Yijun’s car, knowing the woman wouldn’t dream of going home before bedtime.
She pushed open the office door and found Nie Yijun hunched over her computer, fingers flying across the keyboard.
“What is it?” Nie Yijun asked, barely glancing up.
Chi Mu closed the door and walked over to peer over her shoulder. Nie Yijun was writing a thesis, something Chi Mu couldn’t make heads or tails of. She used her toe to hook the chair from across the desk and dragged it over, sitting with her back against Nie Yijun’s chair.
“Keep writing,” Chi Mu said, propping her legs up on a small side table by the window. “I’m just bored. Also, just a reminder: Zhao Tongtong’s dance performance is tomorrow night at 7:30. I’ve sent you the e-ticket.”
“I’m not going,” Nie Yijun said.
Chi Mu clicked her tongue. “According to our 48-hour rule, we’ll be swapping again by 8:00 tomorrow night. If you don’t go, how am I supposed to watch?”
Nie Yijun kept typing. “Understood.”
“And don’t worry,” Chi Mu added. “We’ll kiss our way back tomorrow night. I have no desire to stay in your body and experience that ‘near-death’ headache again.”
“Mm. I feel the same way.”
Chi Mu yawned, leaning her back against Nie Yijun’s. “I’m going to squint for a bit. Let me know when you’re heading out.”
“If you want to sleep, go home,” Nie Yijun countered.
Chi Mu’s eyes drifted shut as she slipped into a daze. “It’s too early to go back.”
Nie Yijun’s fingers paused. She turned her head slightly; Chi Mu was already breathing steadily, clearly fast asleep.
Nie Yijun rubbed her own temples. Though her pain threshold was high, she was still feeling the effects of her flare-up. Occasionally, it became difficult to bear.
She shook her head, tossing aside distracting thoughts to focus. Concentration was Nie Yijun’s greatest strength; once she locked in, she was nearly impossible to interrupt.
It wasn’t until she felt truly fatigued that she finally shut down her computer. As she stood up to leave, she heard a loud thud behind her.
She turned to see Chi Mu sitting on the floor, looking dazed and bleary-eyed.
“What happened?” Chi Mu asked, confused.
“I’m sorry,” Nie Yijun said, having completely forgotten she was there. She reached out to help Chi Mu up. “Did that hurt?”
“Of course it hurt!” Chi Mu rubbed her backside. “Did you do that on purpose?”
“I forgot. I’m truly sorry.”
Chi Mu rolled her eyes and checked her watch. “Crap, it’s 3:30 AM?”
“Yes.” Nie Yijun checked the time as well.
“You’re only just finishing?” Chi Mu limped toward the door. “Careful you don’t drop dead from overwork.”
Nie Yijun followed her out. “It’s not usually like this. I had a new study to write.”
Chi Mu glanced back at her. “Nie Yijun, are you actually a freak?”
“Hmm?” Nie Yijun locked the office door.
“Does your head really not hurt?”
Nie Yijun didn’t answer. Seeing her silence, Chi Mu seemed to realize the truth. “It hurts, doesn’t it? You’re definitely in pain, but you act like nothing’s wrong. That is beyond ‘freak’ status.”
They walked out of the building together. The autumn wind made Chi Mu shiver. She rubbed her arms. “It’s freezing. I’m going home. Meet me at the theater entrance tonight, don’t be late!”
“Wait,” Nie Yijun called out, taking off her own coat. “We’re about the same height and build. Wear this.”
Chi Mu took the coat with a look of utter disdain, shaking it out. “Your taste is honestly, if it weren’t for the cold, I wouldn’t be caught dead touching your clothes.”
Despite her complaints, she wrapped herself in it and walked off.
Nie Yijun watched her limping figure, then called out impulsively, “Chi Mu.”
Chi Mu turned around, looking annoyed. “I’ll give the coat back, okay?”
“I really didn’t sabotage your graduation thesis,” Nie Yijun said. “But I can help you investigate who did.”
Chi Mu, still heavy with sleep, took a long moment to process that.
Nie Yijun continued, “It’s not just about clearing my name. More importantly, you should know who tampered with your work. There has to be someone, right?”
The two stood a dozen paces apart. The night wind tossed Chi Mu’s long hair. She brushed it back slowly and walked toward Nie Yijun. Standing before her, Chi Mu smiled. “Nie Yijun, I never thought the day would come where we’d be this civil.”
The faint, floral scent of Chi Mu’s crabapple blossoms pheromones drifted into Nie Yijun’s less-than-sensitive nose. She managed a small smile of her own. “Chi Mu, back in university, I never intended to be at odds with you. You were the one who always had a problem with me.”
“It’s because you were so annoying,” Chi Mu said.
Nie Yijun thought back. “Impossible. I barely even spoke to you back then. I’ve actually wanted to ask—I never did anything to you, so why were you always gunning for me?”
Chi Mu shoved her hands into her pockets. If she had heard that years ago, she would have thrown a punch. Now, she just wanted to laugh.
“Back then, we were paired for a group project,” Chi Mu recalled. “You were always late consistently over thirty minutes late. You’d waste nearly half the session. But when you finally arrived, the professor never said a word to you, and he never docked your participation points. Don’t you think that’s a bit hateable?”
Nie Yijun was unfazed. “Even if I was late, my topics always ranked first. Why would he dock points?”
“Tsk,” Chi Mu clicked her tongue. “So, being late makes you right?”
“That’s not it,” Nie Yijun said. “I was wrong to be late. But I still don’t get it. I carried our group to first place every single time. Why did you hate me? The other members didn’t hate me as much as you did.”
Chi Mu faltered. Her eyes darted around as she changed the subject. “Then why were you late? And always so consistently late? The ‘Number One in the Department’ Nie Yijun almost never made it to class on time. What was that about?”
“I was working while studying,” Nie Yijun said simply.
“Working.” Chi Mu’s mouth hung open. She remembered how Nie Yijun used to dress—simple, plain, almost rustic and how she had looked down on her for it. “Oh. I see. Why didn’t you just say so back then?”
“At that time,” Nie Yijun chuckled softly, “did you ever listen to a word I said? Besides, you were always tripping me up. I found you genuinely annoying and didn’t want to talk to you.”
Chi Mu shrugged. “Fine. Let’s call it even.”
She let out a long yawn and tilted her chin up at Nie Yijun. “For the record, it wasn’t you ‘carrying’ me to first place. I had plenty of talent myself. We were neck-and-neck back then.”
“Mm,” Nie Yijun conceded. Aside from her personality, Chi Mu’s academic prowess was something Nie Yijun had always secretly admired. “Then why did you become like this?”
“Sss.” Chi Mu’s expression soured. “You really have a knack for saying the one thing that annoys me. Forget it, I’m going.”
As she turned to wave goodbye, her hand brushed against something in the coat pocket. She pulled it out; it was a milk candy.
“Childish,” she muttered.
Despite her disdain, she unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth.