The Zou Family and the Liang Family used to live in the same staff compound, and later bought villas in the same neighborhood.
Zou Yan’s parents had also received an invitation from the Liang Family.
“Rumor has it, he’s lazy, can’t tell grains apart, ignores relatives, always involved in lawsuits—put simply, Liang Lao Er is not someone you can handle. Their family is like a heated kang bed-stove—once you’re in, you can’t get out.”
He Dongli picked up some stir-fried crown daisy with her chopsticks, smiled indifferently, “You and the Master are saying completely different things.”
Zou Yan shot her a disdainful look, “You trust Zhao Zhenzhen? She and Liang Lao Er’s mom are practically glued to the card table, and besides, she’s seen plenty of his bad habits.”
He Dongli calmly argued back, “Have you seen them yourself?”
Seeing her so impervious, Zou Yan’s face flashed with annoyance.
“Do you think I’m joking when I talk to you before surgery?”
He Dongli became serious in an instant.
“Don’t worry. If what you say is true, then he won’t be interested in me anyway.”
Zou Yan was frustrated that He Dongli still didn’t get it.
“I think you shouldn’t waste time on people who are clearly not your type.”
He Dongli smiled.
She wanted to argue, but with someone like Zou Yan, a second-generation doctor, he probably wouldn’t understand—not everyone can do as they please.
In the end, she could only vaguely admit that this wasn’t her first arranged date.
During her doctoral studies, she’d been introduced to someone as well, the wife of her advisor’s cousin, which was even more closely connected than with the Master.
Fortunately, the other party wasn’t interested, and nothing came of it.
Zou Yan still didn’t understand.
In his eyes, someone as independent and even a bit solitary as He Dongli shouldn’t be passively going on blind dates, let alone repeatedly.
He set down his chopsticks, peeled an orange, and spoke his mind: “Seriously, have you ever been in a relationship?”
A drop of juice from the orange got into He Dongli’s eye.
She squinted, but before she could answer, Zou Yan continued, “You haven’t, have you?”
He Dongli kept eating, still unconcerned, and asked, “What’s it supposed to be like if you have?”
Zou Yan realized he’d overstepped.
“It’s not about what it’s like. I just mean, Liang Lao Er isn’t your type.”
The next second, someone confessed, “I have.”
“Hm?”
“I said I’ve been in a relationship. Boyfriend.”
Zou Yan was stunned, not expecting it.
But after a moment, he felt that with He Dongli’s aloof yet forthright nature, it made sense.
“What was he like?”
“As you said, not my ideal, so we broke up.”
Zou Yan was stunned again.
He couldn’t picture what kind of man could make He Dongli fall in love or even like someone.
In the end, as they cleared their trays and prepared to return to their departments, Zou Yan earnestly asked, “He Dongli, what is your ideal type?”
She gave an irrelevant answer, maybe just being playful, not wanting to be serious, but still not ignoring him: “Neither gathering into droplets, nor flowing in a stream.”
Saturday was the Winter Solstice.
He Dongli finished her weekend outpatient shift on time.
To get to the Liang Family’s villa, she had to transfer once on the subway and then take a taxi after getting off.
Zou Yan, dressed in formal wear, was waiting for her in the cold, dark, windy night.
On her way, Zou Yan messaged her that he’d be attending as well that evening.
He Dongli joked, “Going to look for your ideal type too?”
Zou Yan scoffed, claiming he was just there to watch her make a fool of herself.
Like a meditating monk, she seemed never to be internally conflicted.
Well, let him watch if that’s what he enjoys.
As she got out of the ride-hailing car, He Dongli wore a single-breasted blue long-sleeved shirt, casual straight trousers, and a gender-neutral sweater vest over her shirt, with a windbreaker draped over her arm.
Her long hair was tied in the most convenient low bun for commuting.
It was clear she’d made a bit more effort today, but not gone all out.
Her crisp, androgynous style fit the stereotype outsiders had of female surgeons.
But Zou Yan could see through appearances, at least enough to tell that He Dongli’s coolness was partly an act.
She rarely put on full makeup so seriously.
When they met, Zou Yan didn’t hesitate to praise her, “Our Affiliated Hospital No. 1’s belle, just as she should be.”
He Dongli knew what people said about her behind her back, but she didn’t get smug.
She adjusted the pearl earring on her ear—she hadn’t worn these in ages.
She was hesitating about whether to take them off when Zou Yan called out, thinking she was annoyed at his teasing, “Don’t take them off, they look great.”
After she said so, Zou Yan helped her carry her bag and coat, watching as she took off her earrings.
Then, getting a bit closer under the streetlight, he pretended to check for her, “They’re a bit red, didn’t you notice you’re allergic?”
“Haven’t worn them in a long time.”
“Why so serious today, even did your makeup so meticulously?”
A woman’s love of beauty is something men need to be corrected about.
“We wear makeup to even out our complexion and please ourselves.”
“What if he ends up liking you?”
He Dongli didn’t ask who “he” was, responding coolly and calmly, “I’ll refuse.”
Zou Yan pressed on, “Dr. He, you don’t seem like someone who’s good at socializing.”
As he spoke, he handed her coat and bag back.
He Dongli casually stuffed the two pearl earrings she’d taken off into the pocket of her sweater vest.
Just as she did, before she could say anything, a car zoomed past her.
On such an inner loop road, that kind of speeding was really out of line.
Zou Yan got a mouthful of dust, grumbled, and brought up how last month in their neighborhood, a car hit an old lady and fled the scene.
Finally, the two of them walked together to the Liang Family’s gate, and saw that the “Ah Fei” car from earlier was parked right in front of the house.
Liang Lao Er himself came out to greet guests.
The grand Liang Family home was ablaze with lights and full of noise.
So many guests had arrived tonight that there was no more parking by the loop road, and the lawn across the way was off-limits by the property management—they had to park in the underground garage.
The guest in the car wasn’t in a hurry, instead bantering with Liang Lao Er, “It’s not easy for me to come here, and you’re putting on airs. I wanted to meet you, but you dragged me to your old man’s place.”
While they chatted, several more cars arrived behind them.
Liang Lao Er and the person in the car were clearly close.
“Stop joking, just go park the car. If you won’t, I’ll do it for you, alright?”
On He Dongli’s end, she and Zou Yan walked side by side toward the house.
She hadn’t planned to eavesdrop, but as they approached, she noticed the blue license plate was indeed Chen Xiangyang’s, but the person talking in the car wasn’t Chen.
As she walked up the Liang Family’s steps, she heard someone in the car say, “Take Zong Xiansheng inside first, I’ll go park.”
Then came the sound of car doors opening and closing, followed by the most formulaic polite greetings.
He Dongli never turned back.
But from the car and the voice behind her, there was no mistake—it was Chen Xiangyang.
He Dongli paused for a few seconds, and someone behind her overtook her.
Zou Yan had walked some distance before realizing He Dongli hadn’t caught up.
Before he could call out, two men in suits, one turned back.
In the bright lights, there was a long silence.
Even against the light, just by his height, build, and the cologne he’d worn all these years, He Dongli could tell.
Liang Jianxing saw Zong Xiansheng suddenly stop and was puzzled.
Then he noticed the girl in the blue shirt standing nearby.
He glanced at both sides, and as Zou Yan doubled back, he called out the girl’s name, “Dongli, what’s wrong?”
Liang Jianxing heard the name clearly but hadn’t reacted yet when Zong Xiansheng withdrew his gaze and walked inside without a word.
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