He had a way of speaking that was effortlessly pleasant to the ear.
Chi Zhan sat up straight.
“Doctor Cen, what were you about to say just now?”
“I’m feeling a bit hungry. Would you join me for a meal? There’s a place nearby with pretty good food—we can talk while we eat.”
“Of course.”
Cen Chi and Zhou Yanxing couldn’t have been more different. Zhou Yanxing had an imposing presence and walked like a man with the wind at his back—Chi Zhan often had to trot just to keep up.
Cen Chi, on the other hand, was attentive to him every step of the way. He matched Chi Zhan’s pace, and whenever a car approached or they came to a crosswalk, he would subtly guide Chi Zhan behind him—never distant, never too forward, but always quietly considerate.
He really did feel like an attentive older brother.
Apparently, the restaurant was just around the corner. Cen Chi led the way while Chi Zhan simply followed. But after a while, something felt off. When they reached the entrance, Chi Zhan suddenly realized—wasn’t this the couple’s restaurant he’d booked that time?!
They’d talked business here with Su Ran, and Zhou Yanxing had totally thrown him under the bus.
“The food here’s quite good,” Cen Chi said with a smile. “Have you been here before?”
“I came once with President Zhou.”
At that, Cen Chi’s brow twitched slightly, but he said nothing. He only offered a faint, meaningful smile—one that Chi Zhan completely missed.
It was the lunch rush, mostly office workers talking quietly. Restaurants like this typically required reservations a week in advance. Chi Zhan figured they wouldn’t get a table and was just about to suggest going elsewhere when the manager came over and personally led them to a spot by the terrace.
It was the best seat in the house—lush green ivy trailing down from the whitewashed ceiling, fragrant lilies blooming nearby, and a small garden below that offered a serene view while dining.
But this kind of table shouldn’t still be available at this hour.
Sensing Chi Zhan’s confusion, Cen Chi took the initiative to explain.
“I come here often—I’m a member.”
They sat and ordered. Not long after, Cen Chi’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and excused himself with an apologetic smile.
Left alone, Chi Zhan passed the time playing the Plants vs. Zombies game he’d just downloaded, hoping it would help him survive the boredom of recovery. He was mid-match, collecting sunlight, when a text flashed across the top of his screen.
[Zhou Yanxing: What do you want for lunch?]
Chi Zhan blinked in confusion and replied.
[I’m out right now. Did you need something?]
[Zhou Yanxing: You’re still injured and running around?]
[Just had a check-up. Grabbing lunch.]
[Zhou Yanxing: Location.]
[Zhou Yanxing patted you.]
Maybe it was pure habit—months of following orders—but the moment Zhou Yanxing issued a command, Chi Zhan reflexively sent him his location. By the time he realized what he’d done, Zhou had already responded.
[Zhou Yanxing: Wait there.]
The reply “I’m not running around” was still sitting unsent in draft. Chi Zhan hesitated, finger hovering, unsure whether to send it at all.
[…?]
Wait there… Did he mean what Chi Zhan thought he meant?
But why would Zhou Yanxing come here?
No way… Was he coming to collect medical fees?
***
Sunlight filled the screen, uncollected. A few pitiful sunflowers were devoured completely. Moments later, the game flashed its merciless conclusion: The zombies ate your brains!
Chi Zhan just sat there, watching the undead waltz through his house like they owned the place—until Cen Chi returned and sat down across from him.
He’d taken off the white lab coat, now dressed in a sleek autumn trench coat. He looked every bit the polished gentleman—refined, elegant, and devastatingly handsome. But Chi Zhan was in no mood to appreciate the view.
A waiter in vest and shirt approached to swap out the tablecloth, tea set, and utensils, laying out appetizers and a pre-meal dessert. He finished by placing a fresh bouquet of dewy pink roses in the vase before retreating.
They were beautiful—but felt oddly out of place.
Chi Zhan’s thoughts were in disarray.
“What’s wrong?” Cen Chi had clearly picked up on his mood and said, “I can have them remove the flowers if you’d like.”
Chi Zhan pulled himself together.
“They’re already here. Might as well leave them.”
“Actually, there’s something I should tell you.” Chi Zhan hesitated, choosing his words. “President Zhou called me just now. He said he’s coming by—probably has something to discuss.”
Cen Chi paused for a second, surprised. Then he smiled lightly and continued.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” He chuckled softly, adding under his breath, “Seems like… he really does care about you.”
Chi Zhan didn’t catch the last part.
“I didn’t know he’d be coming. I hope it won’t be a bother?”
Cen Chi shook his head.
“The more, the merrier. But… is he always like this? Even on your days off, does he contact you a lot? I just think you’re working too hard.”
“No choice. It’s the job—twenty-four-seven on call.” Chi Zhan wasn’t about to badmouth Zhou Yanxing. “Doctors are probably the same, right?”
“True enough. Getting called up in the middle of the night isn’t unusual. The patient always comes first.”
It was easy talking to Cen Chi. Their conversation flowed naturally. At one point, he asked Chi Zhan if he’d been playing a particular game recently—he’d been playing too.
Chi Zhan was surprised, and even more so when he realized Cen Chi ranked quite high. They added each other in-game. If Zhou Yanxing weren’t on his way, they probably would’ve started a match right then.
They chatted a while longer. Then Chi Zhan excused himself, claiming he needed the restroom—but in truth, he went to the counter to settle the bill, wanting to treat Cen Chi to lunch. But the staff told him their meal was covered under Cen Chi’s annual membership—no payment necessary.
The food here really was excellent—fresh ingredients, flavorful dishes. The only downside was the price. Out of curiosity, Chi Zhan asked how much it cost to get a membership.
The answer left him frozen.
A single membership cost half a year of his salary.
Doctor Cen… was this rich?
So not all wage slaves were created equal. If Cen Chi was a “working man,” then Chi Zhan was no more than a working dog.
From a distance, Chi Zhan spotted someone arriving at their table. He composed himself, adjusted his expression, and walked back.
