“Sunday, I already made plans with Zou Yan,” He Dongli tried to explain, hoping to negotiate changing the time with him.
Unexpectedly, Zong Chi was stubborn and non-negotiable, “He helped you too?”
He Dongli was left speechless.
The man opposite continued, “Wasn’t he the one asking you out? You still have to go along with him?”
Speechless and running low on energy, she could only nod in agreement.
As for Zou Yan, He Dongli thought to herself—interactions between men can be a bit awkward, and she really didn’t want another social engagement.
Since she had agreed, she’d just have to coordinate with Zou Yan again.
Zong Chi saw the slight compromise on her face and finally felt a little relieved after the whole evening.
Feeling proud and a bit reckless, he asked, “So that pack of cigarettes isn’t his, right?”
He Dongli instantly sobered up.
He had twisted the conversation so much that she only now remembered that with his temper, the fact he was here nagging so much, even being somewhat civil to Zou Yan, was unusual.
“Did you check on Zou Yan?” she asked.
Zong Chi, originally with one hand in his pocket, suddenly took it out and crossed his arms defensively.
He Dongli knew him well—this was either guilt or that she had hit the mark.
Her expression wasn’t pretty as she warned him, “Zou Yan doesn’t smoke. Happy now? Don’t make it hard for him. I met him during my residency training, and the apartment we rent is under his guarantee. He’s a good person. It’s rare for me to have a colleague friend.”
“Zong Chi, I beg you, please leave him alone. I don’t have the habit of mixing romance with colleagues, secretaries, or bosses. On the contrary, it’s a nightmare. Besides, in this world, men’s ‘default’ orientation isn’t always women; they can also love the same sex. The same goes for women. Plainly put, maybe he feels more for men than he does for me or the endoscope in his hands…”
“Wait, slow down,” Zong Chi interrupted before she finished, making a pause gesture with both hands.
Then frowning, he asked, “What do you mean by ‘romantic relations with colleagues, secretaries, or bosses’? Whose secretary? Also, what’s this about men’s ‘default’ not being women, and women being the same?”
He Dongli stood there calmly with an expression that said, “I’ve said my piece; whether you get it or not is your problem.”
Zong Chi muttered inwardly, why did she suddenly mention secretaries?
Could it be her unlucky, meddling bestie thinking nonsense?
And what’s this ‘women being the same’ nonsense?
“He Dongli, isn’t your clinical drudgery enough to produce SCI papers? Now you want to publish on sexual orientation too?”
He Dongli didn’t understand Zong Chi’s misinterpretation at all.
Her topic was still on Zou Yan, as if she had caught a loophole in Zong Chi and seized the chance to confront him: “You still say you didn’t check Zou Yan?”
Zong Chi was angry but wouldn’t admit to his undercover investigation or dragging others down with him.
“Why would I need to do background checks? Ridiculous. He’s not worth me carrying his water. Sorry, it was Liang Jianxing who told me everything. Including all the family matters of the Zou family, nothing is left unsaid.”
While speaking, Zong Chi bent slightly toward her, then straightened his back, looking at He Dongli.
She didn’t seem convinced.
He thought to himself: Stay calm, doesn’t she know I love using every trick in the book?
He Dongli absolutely did not believe Zong Chi would stoop to asking Liang Jianxing about Zou Yan, but on the other hand, if someone offered him something in return, he definitely wouldn’t refuse.
That day at the Liang family, they had been mocking Zou Yan like this.
In short, He Dongli didn’t want innocent people to be implicated because of her.
“Zong Chi, if I know you at all, or if you’re still the Zong Chi I know, you should hate more than anything others using your family affairs against you. So you should understand ‘Do not do unto others what you don’t want done to yourself.’ Zou Yan’s sexual orientation, please…”
“How well do you know me?”
Zong Chi suddenly asked her back.
Both seemed stung by the other’s words, locking eyes.
Zong Chi felt relieved he made the right choice but couldn’t help wanting to retort, You don’t know me at all.
Next moment, he asked, “You think you’re so smart, but actually hopelessly stupid. Let me ask you first, what’s your criteria for judging someone’s sexual orientation? You saw them kissing, or what…”
“Enough!”
He Dongli instinctively stopped him as a pedestrian passed by.
Before the pedestrian had gone far, Zong Chi vaguely indicated the subject and objectively told her based on his background check, “His orientation is female. It’s nailed down.”
He Dongli took nearly a minute to digest her own misunderstanding.
She looked up at Zong Chi, who stared back with a look of supreme mockery as if saying, How can you make such a basic mistake?
Even the chickens raised by your ancestors in the village have deserted you.
He Dongli’s lips moved slightly as she tried to defend herself, “Every time he talks about ‘friends’ it’s so vague, even in WeChat chats it’s always third-person singular ‘he.’ Clearly, going through family connections would be more effective, but he’d rather seek help from insignificant colleagues. The hospital has seniors backing him too. Just now at the convenience store, he said he can’t easily appear in places for dine-in…”
Hearing her list all these details, Zong Chi felt a strange relief throughout his body.
He really wanted to correct her on his “insignificant” status but had to play ignorant, logically going along without understanding her, “What friends? What’s wrong with not going to dine-in places? I don’t go to those places either.”
“You’re you; who can compare to you,” He Dongli said matter-of-factly, though she hadn’t brought up “friends” again.
After speaking, she reached out again to take back her bag, but Zong Chi didn’t budge.
He Dongli, easily outmatched, suddenly had a thought, “What do you mean by nailed down?”
“You tell me.”
He Dongli’s greatest strength was quick understanding, a sign of strong learning ability.
Zong Chi had just said the hard evidence for determining orientation was either kissing or…
She didn’t want to ask further—this topic ended here.
Because Zou Yan was Zou Yan, whether he liked men or women, to He Dongli he was just her colleague Zou Yan.
Zong Chi regretted saying too much.
He Dongli had an impressive memory.
When they studied together, even if Zong Chi didn’t make mistake notes, she could precisely recall what he missed and on which test.
Besides, at this moment, he dared to say what the “nailed down” meant—
“A kissing photo. Why he and his friend got caught on camera, I won’t say. When you meet them, you’ll understand…”
Before he finished, momentarily off guard, He Dongli grabbed his arm and quickly yanked the bag off his shoulder.
She walked all the way to the bike shed, took out her keys, and retrieved her electric bike.
The motor vehicle parking was across the street.
Zong Chi followed quietly.
Both knew: she already understood he had done a background check on Zou Yan.
When she pulled out her “little donkey,” Zong Chi pressed his hand on its handlebars, “I drove here. I’ll drive you back.”
“No need. I have to take it back so I can respond to urgent calls and get to the hospital immediately.”
“I promise there’s only one kissing photo, already deleted. I’m not interested in anyone else’s private photos.”
He Dongli stayed silent but the bike was already starting to move forward.
Zong Chi reached out, “Don’t lock your bike. Leave it at the hospital. If I bring my car in, I have to pay for parking, so I need to drive out and then send you back.”
“Zong Chi, your car is yours. My bike is a necessary commute tool. If there’s an emergency call at night, I have to get there first. Understand?”
“I get it, I never said your bike isn’t necessary. I know some surgeons I work with even have small cars behind their big cars for a driver—just in case they’re stuck in traffic and need to rush back to the hospital.”
He Dongli looked at him silently again.
The third time Zong Chi gave up asking her to abandon either her work or commuting vehicle.
He took off his suit jacket, looking for somewhere to put it, and casually draped it over her shoulders.
He Dongli almost instinctively protested, “Don’t go crazy!”
Zong Chi, rebellious to the core, repeated her words, “Me crazy? Look, would I go crazy enough to crash into a tree? You, though—whoever heard of a driving instructor scolding someone into depression, self-abandonment, saying it doesn’t matter if you never learn to drive for life?”
That was He Dongli.
She was one year younger and learned to drive one year later.
When they video-called back then, she quietly said she was upset about not having a license.