Chapter 1: The Office's Unspoken Rules...

  "My name is Du Juan, I'm a 3-year nursing student, what about you?"

  "We? Socialites." Yang Zongbao joked indifferently.

  "So, where do you work? Do you live together? How long have you been together?"

  Machine gun-like rapid-fire questions left Yang Zongbao unable to parry.

  "Alright, I'm fed up. Go away." Bao Guo waved his hand and shooed away Du Juan, then pulled Yang Zongbao along: "Let's go drink."

  "It's really so charming." Du Juan was stripped to one side, but she was still indulging in her dirty imagination.

  "The students in your school all have terrible personalities." Baoguo said discontentedly.

  "It's okay, don't you think it's cute?" Yang Zongbao deliberately teased Bao Guo.

  "Alright, alright, I don't like those compact ones, probably not even 1.6 meters tall, I wouldn't want people to say that's a father with his daughter."

  "You're overthinking..." Yang Zongbao didn't say anything after that. Du Juan thought of herself and Baoguo as a pair, guessing that this straightforward Baoguo wouldn't be able to come up with such profound topics.

  Wanfan Bao decided to treat himself to a good dinner. He found a high-end seafood hot pot restaurant that looked very upscale.

  "This is quite expensive." Yang Zongbao estimated that this meal might cost him half a semester's living expenses.

  "It's nothing, I still have this little money." Baoguo's heart was bleeding, how did his brother fall to this point?

  Because they weren't sitting in a private room, one waiter was taking care of a row of tables. Of course, the waiter's stay at Yang Zongbao's table was still relatively shorter.

  "Go on eating, don't be polite, just eat." Bao Guo enthusiastically urged Yang Zongbao.

  Yang Zongbao didn't say a word, he just kept eating with great vigor and at a steady pace. He didn't seem to be in any hurry, it was just a normal meal, and his table manners were good too. To put it accurately, only his hands moved while his head remained still.

  When I was a kid, Bao Guo always couldn't figure out why Yang Zongbao's eating posture was so strange. It turned out that it was because he didn't move his head. Most people will slightly lean their heads towards the bowl, but Yang Zongbao would rather lift the bowl up instead. This is a very different posture from others. Eating like this keeps one's back straight.

  "Eat, eat, have some more..."

  Bao Guo hadn't finished speaking when he suddenly discovered that the table had been swept clean, with only a few leaves of vegetables left behind.

  "Brother Bao, you really know how to eat."

  Only then can one sincerely exclaim: "Long live our great nation!"

  "Ah, such opportunities don't come often, so eat as much as you can."

  "How about some more?"

  "Can I have some?"

  "Uh..."

  Yang Zongbao never touches wine, in his words, alcohol will numb one's nerves, so unless it's a social engagement, he hardly drinks.

  Ordered some more vegetarian dishes, as meat dishes can be greasy and unappetizing when eaten too much.

  "Would you mind not wearing your gold chain next time? It's tacky."

  After eating his fill, Yang Zongbao had a chance to evaluate Bao Gu's new equipment.

  "What's this? Someone said I'd be better off with some gold this year, I've been really unlucky lately."

  "Then you have this whole detailed thing, like a dog chain."

  "Next time then."

  Bao Guo fully accepted the opinions raised by Yang Zongbao.

  "Have you eaten?"

  "I'm full."

  "Then I'll send you back?"

  "It's not like you're a young girl, old men don't care about this."

  Yang Zongbao refused and slowly walked towards school.

  I ate too much just now, my stomach is aching. I'll take a slow walk and get some fresh air. This month has been really laid-back, Yang Zongbao doesn't know how long he's been like this, doing nothing in particular. It feels like his whole life has been stuck at the age of 12. From 12 years old onwards, he began to understand the coldness and warmth of the world, and also knew that everyone would become cruel.

  In those two years of hardship, if it weren't for meeting his teacher Monk Dofei Langbi, Yang Zongbao might not have survived that period.

  The teacher was a Dutchman who had been locked up himself and was completely disheartened. He witnessed the most despicable thing in this world with his own eyes.

  The mentally ill may be God's favorites, often forgetting their own suffering, pursuing the extreme of a certain aspect of human nature. They are pathological, they are violent, but these are not the most disgusting, what Yang Zongbao cannot bear is those self-proclaimed guardians of righteousness who are normal people.

  There, the mentally ill are themselves sentenced to death row, they have not been given the right to survive since they set foot in that place. Every day is a naked struggle between desires and desires, many of whom die without timely treatment. I also faced despair, hiding my figure as much as possible, just hoping to get through one day at a time. Until the teacher brought hope to myself.

  Even if the teacher is not a normal person, everything he has given to himself has now become his precious life experience. There is still a white soft figure in my heart, I don't know where it is now.

  "Hey, who's there, hey..."

  Someone called from behind, but Yang Zongbao didn't think it was for him and ignored it. It wasn't until his arm was grabbed that he felt the pain.

  "Oh no."

  "Oh, sorry, I didn't notice you had an injury on your hand."

  Yang Zongbao turned his head and looked back, as if he had seen this girl somewhere before. She was petite, like an apple.

  "It's me, it's me, Du Juan, the handsome guy who was with you during the day?" The little girl looked around exaggeratedly.

  "Oh." Yang finally replied to her and then walked away.

  "I said why don't you care about people."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Is all you can say 'uh-huh'?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "You're really boring, that handsome guy during the day is your boyfriend..."

  The question still continues, and the girl follows closely behind Yang Zongbao.

  "You shouldn't have called Du Juan." Yang Zongbao suddenly stopped in his tracks.

  "What should it be called?"

  "Sparrow, you're too noisy. And another thing, I don't want to answer your numerous questions, nor do I have an obligation to answer them. Also, stop following me."

  Watching Yang Zongbao's gradually disappearing figure, Du Juan's surprised mouth corners slowly curved upwards, seemingly discovering an interesting person. It was rare to have a man speak sternly and severely to such a lovely girl like herself.

  Sparrow is fine, then starting from tomorrow, just transform yourself into a sparrow.

  Yang Zongbao doesn't care about other people's petty womanly attitudes right now, his whole body is uncomfortable and he wants to hurry back and lie down.

  In the elevator, he met a woman with large breasts again, but she ignored him and looked up at her nose. Yang Zongbao also didn't dare to strike up a conversation, not wanting to make a fool of himself.

  All the way in silence, finally endured to the floor, pushed the door and went in, then came out again, confirmed that it was his own dormitory before going in again.

  Mei sat cozily on the sofa in the living room, munching on snacks and wearing pajamas.

  It's not that Yang Zongbao is conservative, it's just that he has never been alone in a room with a woman before, except for that one time with Shen Lianlian.

  "You didn't go wrong, all the hotels around school are fully booked today, so I'll just stay here for a night." Mei Wenxin explained.

  "Oh."

  Yang Zongbao is just that, no other words.

  "Zhang Lanfeng is on duty tonight."

  "Oh."

  "Others have something urgent."

  "Oh."

  "It's just the two of us tonight."

  "Oh."

  Yang Zongbao really didn't want to talk today, he ate too much.

  Back in his own room, Yang Zongbao played Mozart's "Requiem" on a cassette tape. This tape had been washed by Yang Zongbao. Because the "Requiem" was not entirely written by Mozart, only part of it was. The latter part was supplemented by others, but the substitute writing had lost its original flavor. Only Mozart, a poor and sickly genius who was depressed and unfulfilled in his life, could write such heavenly music that settled his own soul.

  Yang Zongbao is not quite used to the current portable audio players and the like, he still likes more substantial things. For example, he likes paper books, likes writing with a pen, including liking brush pens and inkstones. In this era of electronic information overload, Yang Zongbao is an outlier, until now he doesn't have his own computer, although he knows how to use it but only to the extent of browsing web pages, far from being able to use the computer as a work tool, thinking about this Yang Zongbao feels like going to sit in some department or other.

  "I said, can you finish playing this piece? You always stop halfway through." Mei Wenxin leaned against the doorframe of Yang Zongbao's room. She had been startled by the "Requiem" in the living room earlier and after listening for a while, it stopped again and started from the beginning. This feeling was like having food stuck in her throat, unable to go up or down, very uncomfortable. So she couldn't help but come over to take a look at this strange man.

  "I only like the first half."

  Although Mei Wenxi was now wearing a relatively cool Bohemian cloak and long skirt, her arms were slender, round, and full of curves. However, Yang Zongbao really didn't have the mood to appreciate it, as there were too many things waiting for him to do, and resting for two weeks was already his limit. Moreover, in his heart, there was always a white figure.

  "You're really weird."

  Mei Wenxin saw Yang Zongbao being very cold and distant, so she didn't bother to try to get his attention and sulkily went back to Zhang Lanfeng's room to sleep.

  Yang Zongbao moved a recliner to the balcony and lay down, taking out "American Anesthesiologist's Handbook" to read. It's not that Yang Zongbao didn't read domestic books, but the saying that China's medical technology is 10 years behind America is not exaggerated at all. Chinese medical schools cultivate technicians, while foreign ones cultivate doctors. He had a deep understanding of this from his teachers.

  When I first contacted the teacher, the teacher spoke English and I spoke Chinese. The two people didn't communicate with each other. However, after two years of contact, we can now communicate very well. Now I can also understand English papers because of my gratitude to the teacher and persistence in learning.

  For the first time in two weeks, Yang Zongbao was very enthusiastic about learning. He hadn't smelled the scent of paper for a long time, and this smell made him irresistible, immersing himself in the unique ink fragrance of books until dawn.

  Mei Wenxi woke up very early, the unfamiliar place made her sleepless all night, plus that strange person named Yang Zongbao, she kept hearing "Requiem" all night, making her feel like attending a funeral, extremely uncomfortable. As soon as she got up, she had two black eye circles and looked haggard.

  Mei Wenxin is a delicate woman. As the saying goes, women, whether beautiful or not, need to rely on maintenance, and Mei Wenxin treats herself relatively well. The cosmetics she uses are luxury brands that girls of the same age can't afford.

  Mei Wenxin knew she was beautiful and was good at using this weapon to get what she wanted. Few people knew that under her innocent appearance, there were also the petty thoughts of a worldly woman.

  There is no simple person in this world.

  Mei Wenxi walked into Yang Zongbao's room, yawning, ready to scold him a few words. But as soon as she reached the door, she saw Yang Zongbao sitting on the balcony, the sky was dimly lit, and the desk lamp beside him was still on. His hair was slightly curled, his profile facing her, with a cigarette in his mouth, holding a small booklet, his skin looked dry, obviously he hadn't slept all night.

  I don't know why this scene gave Mei a warm and intense shock, all the complaints that came to her lips couldn't be spoken. A piercing warmth flowed through her heart, sour and bitter.

  "What's wrong with me? Mei Wenxin gently stroked her chest, and inside, it was actually filled with palpitations. This is too abnormal. The man in front of her wasn't particularly handsome, dressed very plainly, but looking closely, he had some inexplicable charm."