Le Huan had just woken up early in the morning when Zhao Yan took her to the base’s research institute for a medical checkup. Le Huan didn’t mind—after all, with 66 around, she couldn’t die.
Zhao Yan was nervous and anxious all the way there, his mind in turmoil. He feared that Le Huan might be beyond treatment, and many dark thoughts flashed through his mind. Seeing Le Huan carefree slightly eased his tension.
Upon entering the research institute, they met Chen Youyu. Chen Youyu, a researcher at the base, led them to an examination room equipped with instruments that could provide a detailed assessment of Le Huan’s health.
A female doctor conducted the checkup while Chen Youyu and Zhao Yan waited outside.
Watching Zhao Yan’s panicked and worried expression, Chen Youyu didn’t know how to comfort him and could only wait alongside him for the results.
Soon, Le Huan came out, insisting on going to Wu You’s home to see how the clothing designs were progressing.
Zhao Yan, however, focused solely on the examination results, asking the doctor about her condition. His pale face looked more like a patient than Le Huan did.
The female doctor, staring at the report, was shocked. “Her heartbeat is very slow, and some of her bodily indicators are irregular. Normally, this would lead to organ failure rapidly, yet Miss Yu shows no such symptoms.”
The doctor discussed this anomaly with Chen Youyu. Both were astonished and planned to take the report to their mentor for further research.
Zhao Yan’s heart seemed to stop at the first half of the sentence, making it hard to breathe. Only the second half allowed him to breathe again, feeling as if a life sentence had been lifted.
He carefully asked about Le Huan’s condition and precautions for her daily life.
Along the way, Zhao Yan was distracted. Le Huan tugged at his hand. “Zhao Yan, I want braised chicken wings for lunch.”
Zhao Yan snapped back to reality and forced a smile, responding, “Okay.”
Seeing Zhao Yan so distraught, Le Huan felt a rare pang of sympathy. But she couldn’t tell him about the system, so she said flatly, “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
Zhao Yan furrowed his brows, unwavering. His eyes betrayed deep unease; the report felt like a ticking bomb—once it exploded, Le Huan would die.
Le Huan placed her hand over his brow, touching the scar. “If you keep frowning, you’ll look like an old man. That wouldn’t be handsome at all.”
Zhao Yan relaxed slightly. He didn’t want to infect her with his bad mood. Beside him, Le Huan only needed to be carefree and happy.
“I’ve never been handsome anyway,” Zhao Yan admitted. He was self-conscious about his appearance; aside from his team, no one ever complimented him. His brow scar made him look fierce and unattractive.
Le Huan looked at his face carefully. Honestly, she didn’t think he was ugly. Having seen too many modern “pretty boys,” she found his rugged style more appealing.
Moreover, the scar over his brow seemed increasingly sexy. Knowing Zhao Yan blushed and grew shy easily around her, even the scar appeared cute.
“I think it’s very handsome… very sexy,” Le Huan said sincerely, her eyes sparkling.
Zhao Yan’s heart melted. Ten compliments from his team wouldn’t compare to this one from Le Huan. The gloom in his mind dissipated—Le Huan had a unique ability to control his emotions.
When they reached Wu You’s building, Wu You happened to come downstairs. “Team Leader! I was just about to find you. Youyu sent a message asking us to come for a meeting.”
Unlike other bases, theirs had no single leader. The base’s management relied on meetings held by the Research Institute and the top three teams.
Zhao Yan nodded and said he would take Le Huan upstairs first before the meeting.
“Team Leader… are you serious? Going upstairs to my place is just a short elevator ride.”
“No. I’m not comfortable leaving her alone.” Zhao Yan insisted on escorting Le Huan. The residential building was crowded, and many people kept sneaking glances at Le Huan. As long as she had someone by her side, he couldn’t relax.
Wu Lü opened the door and saw a bright, smiling face. Behind her stood Zhao Yan, still imposing, his gaze fixed firmly on Le Huan.
Le Huan was excited to see Wu Lü’s clothing designs. Wu Lü often added small details to her clothes that Le Huan loved. Though the outfits wouldn’t be ready so quickly, just seeing the sketches made her happy.
“I’m here again! Sister, are the clothing sketches ready?” Le Huan’s voice was sweet as honey when she spoke, and her smile could overshadow everyone around her.
Zhao Yan watched her beam at Wu Lü and felt a twinge of jealousy. His chest tightened as he stepped forward, partially shielding Le Huan with his body.
“I’m going to the meeting with Wu You. Huan Huan, you stay here and play for a while.”
Wu Lü looked at the lively Le Huan, then at Zhao Yan, who was clearly jealous. She twitched her lips. “Alright, come in.”
Le Huan bounced forward, but Zhao Yan grabbed her briefly.
“Huan Huan, I’ll be back to pick you up soon. You behave and stay here, fifteen minutes—no wandering off…”
Zhao Yan reminded her like a worried parent, as if she were a kindergartener.
“Okay, go quickly,” Le Huan said, eager to see the sketches.
Wu Lü closed the door with a “click” under Zhao Yan’s reluctant gaze, rolling her eyes. Then she met Le Huan’s gaze.
“….”
“Hahaha… Sister, you have so much fun! Can I flip another one? Hahaha…”
Le Huan’s flushed, playful face looked like a blooming peach in March. Wu Lü’s usual stoic expression contrasted sharply with her laughter.
1066 laughed as well. 【Zhao Yan is something else too—look at Wu Lü’s expression toward him.】
After Le Huan finished laughing, Wu Lü composed herself and led her into the workspace. Many fabric swatches and clothing items were neatly arranged. A large table was covered with sketches and drawing tools, and a life-sized plastic mannequin stood ready.
Wu Lü was passionate about her work, and many items were provided by Wu You.
Wu Lü handed over several sketches. “See if these styles match what you like.”
Le Huan picked up the sketches. “These…”
Wu Lü looked down, thinking she might not be satisfied. But then she heard Le Huan’s uncontrollable excitement.
“These are beautiful! They’re exactly what I wanted. Thank you so much.” Le Huan’s big eyes curved into crescents, full of innocent joy.
Wu Lü had never received such sincere praise for her designs. In the apocalypse, people often criticized her clothes as flashy and impractical.
People preferred loose, durable garments with large, practical pockets.
Wu Lü could make those clothes, but she didn’t need to design for money. She wanted to create clothing she loved, hoping one day her work would be appreciated.
Clearly, Le Huan was the kind of person who would genuinely admire her designs.
Wu Lü and Le Huan exchanged ideas. Le Huan’s attention to small details impressed Wu Lü, who quickly drew them out and asked if they matched Le Huan’s vision.
Le Huan was delighted. She had seen too many unsophisticated people in the apocalypse. Wu Lü was like a fresh breeze, quick to understand and capable of coming up with creative ideas.
They enthusiastically discussed many beautiful designs. Wu Lü’s lips curved in a smile, her eyes brightening, no longer stern like before.
They were both happy. 1066 was the happiest—it had gained a lot of goodwill, feeling stronger than ever.
Time flew, and it was already midday. A knock came at the door.
When opened, Zhao Yan had come to fetch Le Huan. His face bore a red streak, and his clothes were dirty, splattered with mud.