Perhaps because the lab was so vast and the interns’ chores outnumbered their real tasks, requiring constant movement, even a one-week spring break internship wore Li Shanqing out.
Every day, he would come home and collapse into sleep. Not just his parents, even Mary voiced concerns, asking with worry and dissatisfaction, “Shanqing, are you really going to intern for so long this summer?”
Truthfully, Li Shanqing was not sure anymore. He had noticed interns only accessed low-risk lab areas, and the work’s intensity was high, making his effort outweigh the rewards. He feared it might harm his health.
Yet, he liked the lab’s atmosphere, leaving him unusually hesitant.
That night, after Zhuang Xu suddenly asked for his medical reports, he had not updated Li Shanqing on any progress, and their chats had been sparse this week.
It was not that Zhuang Xu was not replying. Oddly, he seemed to respond faster than before. Rather, Li Shanqing, after satisfying his urge to banter, often fell asleep clutching his phone, waking to find it missing, let alone keeping up with Zhuang Xu.
Plus, Li Shanqing kept asking, “Has clinical operations responded?” and saying he wanted to visit Weiyuan Biotech’s headquarters to see Dr. Zhuang’s prototype sustained-release device. Zhuang Xu, likely unwilling to take him, always replied with dull refusals like “No time” or “Not convenient,” stalling the scoreboard.
Finally, on the last morning of the internship, Li Shanqing got a call from Zhuang Xu: “I will be at the lab this afternoon.”
“To see me? So kind,” Li Shanqing teased, typing at a keyboard, helping a researcher with a simulation rate program. “I saved some data for you to analyze.”
“Routine inspection,” Zhuang Xu said, not taking the bait, warning coldly, “When you see me, try not to come talk to me.”
“Huh?” Li Shanqing’s fingers slowed, pondering code, so his reply was brief, “Got it.”
He thought Zhuang Xu’s perception of his social awareness was far off. He was not an idiot or acting in one of Mary’s dramas. Why would he randomly approach Zhuang Xu?
Zhuang Xu paused for a few seconds. Not wanting more etiquette warnings, Li Shanqing said considerately, “See you this afternoon, big boss,” and hung up.
That afternoon, Li Shanqing and the other interns gathered in an empty meeting room, writing their reports. Sensing movement outside the glass, he looked up. Lab managers were escorting Zhuang Xu and two other men past nearby.
Zhuang Xu, catching his gaze, glanced over. Fearing this overly sensitive man would misread it as provocation, Li Shanqing quickly looked down. Zhuang Xu now held power over the sustained-release implant’s fate, so it was best to avoid trouble.
After finishing the report, they had little left to do. Li Shanqing checked his phone and saw a message from Zhuang Xu: “What time do you get off?”
Confused, he replied, “Five, I guess. Why?”
“Inspection ends around five. I am free tonight and can take you to the group to see the prototype you mentioned.”
Li Shanqing had not expected Zhuang Xu to remember his offhand request. Going out with him tonight was tricky. It was nearly four, his driver might already be on the way, and Mary had likely cooked.
To go to Weiyuan Biotech, he would need at least three calls and might go hungry, as Zhuang Xu would not account for his allergies.
But the prototype’s allure was strong. Without much thought, Li Shanqing replied, “Great, thanks, big boss,” and started making calls.
Mary, hearing he would not eat at home, worried about dinner. Li Shanqing fibbed kindly, “Zhuang Xu said he will have someone cook for me; he has my allergy list.” Mary relaxed.
At quitting time, the four interns left together. The others headed for the subway, parting at the gate.
Following Zhuang Xu’s instructions, Li Shanqing went to the campus parking garage, slowly taking the elevator to the second floor. Unable to spot the white sedan Zhuang Xu mentioned, he looked around, puzzled, about to call him.
While staring at his phone, a car sped down from above, braking and honking upon seeing him. Startled, Li Shanqing stepped back, noticing a flash behind him. Zhuang Xu’s car was parked right there.
“Li Shanqing,” Zhuang Xu said, getting out, his tone sharp, striding toward him.
Zhuang Xu wore an unfamiliar black suit, tall and thin, looking too young, like a fresh graduate. Even Li Shanqing, a seventeen-year-old, thought such a youthful appearance would not easily command respect.
Fortunately, Zhuang Xu’s handsome looks, steady demeanor, and calm, reasoned speech, rarely emotional, let people overlook his actual age.
But with Li Shanqing, Zhuang Xu was different, often harsh, assuming the worst. Now, too, his tone was poor: “Do you always stand in the middle of the road playing with your phone?”
He grabbed Li Shanqing’s arm, pulling him to the car and opening the door. Though gentle, it felt like a kidnapping.
Inside, waiting for Zhuang Xu, Li Shanqing explained, “I could not find you, so I was going to call.”
Feeling a bit wronged, he added, “I did not know your license plate. Why did not you wait outside? I almost got hit by a car.”
“Why not stand to the side to call? I told my team I had something to do,” Zhuang Xu glanced at him, softening slightly. “With so many cars passing, how could I stand outside?”
“Got it, Mr. President, big star,” Li Shanqing said, miffed, shutting up after his retort.
Zhuang Xu went quiet, starting the car, and they left the research campus.
Bored, Li Shanqing’s eyes wandered, noticing Zhuang Xu’s hand on the steering wheel. Perhaps due to his thinness, the knuckles protruded, gripping tightly.
Zhuang Xu’s skin was fair, not as pale as Li Shanqing’s but clearly that of someone raised in privilege, still not quite adult-like.
For some reason, Li Shanqing felt an itch where Zhuang Xu had grabbed him, touching it. Seconds later, Zhuang Xu asked, “Does it hurt a lot?”
It took Li Shanqing a moment to realize what he meant.
It did not hurt. Zhuang Xu’s grip was light, and even Li Shanqing’s sensitive nerves felt nothing, but he said, “Yeah, it hurts! Were you trying to break my arm?” It sounded more justified.
Zhuang Xu fell silent.
After a bit, he said softly, “I thought I did not pull hard.” Then, “Next time, I will wait outside.” That was likely his apology’s limit.
Li Shanqing, magnanimous, accepted, “That’s more like it.”
The research campus was in Bingang’s suburbs, while Weiyuan Biotech’s headquarters was downtown, far away, especially during rush hour’s heavy traffic, making the drive stop-and-go.
Li Shanqing, exhausted, slept most of the way, dreaming of swimming until utterly drained. Zhuang Xu woke him, calling his name softly in the underground garage. Sitting upright, Zhuang Xu avoided touching him, perhaps fearing he would “break” him, looking helpless, likely having called for a while.
Seeing Zhuang Xu’s expression for the first time, Li Shanqing mentally awarded himself fifty points, then said, “We are here?” yawning.
Getting out, he trailed Zhuang Xu closely, hearing him ask, “Hungry? If you are, we can eat in the cafeteria first.”
“Your company cafeteria probably does not have anything I can eat.”
Zhuang Xu paused, glancing back.
The building, newly built a few years ago, had a clean, bright underground garage. Cars occasionally passed as they neared the elevator hall’s glass doors.
Years later, Li Shanqing often recalled Zhuang Xu’s gaze then, pure, untainted, impossible to replicate even with the finest tools. Though he could not grasp its meaning, he longed for Zhuang Xu to look at him that way again. Forcing, provoking, sweet-talking, or taunting never recreated it.
But at the time, Li Shanqing just asked, “Why are you staring?”
“I gave your allergy list to the cafeteria chefs,” Zhuang Xu said. “They can make a few dishes you can eat.”
Li Shanqing, wary of unclean pots causing allergies, a past issue, declined, “Nah, I am not hungry. Mary cooked; I will eat at home.” Zhuang Xu led him upstairs.
They took the executive elevator. Seeing Zhuang Xu swipe his card, Li Shanqing teased, “Worthy of a CEO!” But the elevator’s fragrance made him sneeze twice, shaking his head to clear his dazed mind.
Zhuang Xu asked, “Is the scent too strong?”
Li Shanqing nodded, pulling a new mask from his pocket and putting it on, then inching closer to Zhuang Xu. New places made him anxious, and sticking to someone familiar felt like having support.
Zhuang Xu did not move, so he boldly grabbed his arm.
“You really tired?” Zhuang Xu asked, looking down, not pulling away.
“Yeah,” Li Shanqing said, seizing the chance to ask, “Zhuang Xu, I am not sure if I should intern this summer. This week’s been kind of too much.”
Zhuang Xu did not reply. Li Shanqing nudged him, and he answered coldly, “Your call.”
The prototype was on the thirtieth floor in a large exhibition room for VIP visits. Detailed texts explained parts and implant methods, with magnifying glasses over some intricate components for close inspection.
Li Shanqing wandered inside for a while, marveling as he looked. Zhuang Xu accompanied him, explaining occasionally, like a seasoned guide.
At the final display for new implant techniques, Zhuang Xu said, “The consulting professor for this design is coming to teach at Bingang University soon.”
“Huh?” Li Shanqing, unsure of his intent, looked up.
“I attended his lecture last year; it was insightful,” Zhuang Xu said. “If you are interested, you could take his class later.”
Li Shanqing froze, understanding but unsure how to respond, feeling uneasy. He could not stay in Bingang for college. He regretted his earlier nonsense and wondered why Zhuang Xu remembered it so well.
“Really?” he dodged, changing topics. “Where’s your office? Can I check it out?”
Zhuang Xu took him to his office upstairs. Unlike Li Shanqing’s imagination, the CEO’s office was not huge, just a guest sofa set, a large desk, and two bookshelves packed with various books, reminiscent of Zhuang Xu’s home study, but with a dazzling city night view.
Li Shanqing looked around, his point-scoring itch flaring. He sauntered to the big chair, sat, and grinned at the exasperated Zhuang Xu nearby, ordering, “Xiao Zhuang, print a file for me.”
“Which file?”
“You are asking me? What kind of secretary!” Li Shanqing got into it, pointing. “I will fire you tomorrow.”
Zhuang Xu laughed, walking over but not pulling him up, asking, “Done acting?”
Li Shanqing ignored him, examining a family photo on the desk, two of Mrs. Xu, and Zhuang Xu’s elementary school and high school graduation photos. In elementary, he wore a blue uniform; in high school, a suit, always thin and aloof, like a painted figure.
“Zhuang Xu, how were you so good-looking since childhood?” Li Shanqing sighed. “Have you ever dated? Anyone had a crush on you?”
Zhuang Xu flipped the photos face-down, cutting him off. “Office tour’s over. I am driving you home.”
“So stingy,” Li Shanqing said, looking up. “What, your office has a curfew? Or do I have to pay to view your photos?”
“You need to eat dinner, right? It’s eight,” Zhuang Xu said, sounding truly helpless, picking up the photos and setting them back in front of him.
Li Shanqing sensed pushing further would genuinely anger him, so he stood, feigning compliance: “Fine, I am being evicted.”
On the drive home, they chatted. Li Shanqing bragged about the program he had written that day to show off his smarts, but Zhuang Xu suddenly said, “If you minor in computer science, the course load might be heavy.”
Li Shanqing could see his community’s entrance arch, its bushes wrapped in red and white lights, leftover New Year decorations.
Rarely speechless, he stalled for seconds, muttering, “Nah, forget it,” glancing at Zhuang Xu to see if he had bought it. Zhuang Xu, eyes forward, said, “You could just take courses you like.”
Li Shanqing’s head ached, trying to dodge again, joking, “Maybe with the implant, I will get strong enough to take extra classes. Help me out, okay?”
Such talk did not win Zhuang Xu’s promise. At the community gate, Li Shanqing got out, saying bye. Oddly, as he turned toward the path home, he saw Zhuang Xu’s car still parked, not leaving immediately.
Li Shanqing did not think much of it, going home and pestering Mary about being hungry, asking her to cook plain noodles. After eating, he washed up and slept, selectively forgetting Zhuang Xu’s assumption he would attend Bingang University, deciding to deal with it later.
Zhuang Xu, three years older, would not care that much, would he? He would know people prioritize themselves. For Li Shanqing, living day-to-day, making choices for his own good was only natural.
He did not like Bingang’s climate anyway. Unless it transformed completely, he had no intention of staying.
