Chapter : 08
A sunflower doll from Plants vs. Zombies was stuck to his helmet, swaying as he ran.
Zhou Qingluo jogged up in front of him, pulled off the helmet, tidied his messy hair, and smiled.
“Sorry to bother you. My name is Zhou Qingluo. Two weeks ago, I got drunk at a bar and passed out. You called 120 and took me to the hospital, right?”
The person opposite kept a cold expression, not looking at him, staring elsewhere.
His eyes were sharp at the corners, the iris slightly higher than normal, and lighter in color. They looked like a wolf’s eyes, carrying a strange, chilling hostility.
He didn’t answer, so Zhou Qingluo took it as a silent confirmation.
Zhou Qingluo glanced at his helmet.
For some reason, everyone seemed interested in what was on delivery riders’ helmets. Zhou Qingluo had already had a few snatched by others.
He quickly pulled off the suction cup and handed the sunflower doll to him. Generous and bold, he said:
“Do you like this? Here, take it.”
Chapter 4
Zhou Qingluo handed over the sunflower doll, but the other person didn’t take it.
His hand hovered mid-air, neither retracting nor reaching out. The sunflower in his hand seemed embarrassed and froze.
Zhou Qingluo wasn’t willing to give up. He nudged the doll’s big smiling head, and it immediately perked up.
Trying to lighten the mood, he said:
“This thing can move too.”
Zhou Qingluo could draw. In his free time, he would make clay or play-dough versions of his drawings, bake them hard, then color them. Sometimes he’d send them to fans on Weibo. Sweet fans called him a “treasure boy.”
No one had ever refused his gifts. Never.
“Here’s another suction cup. It can stick well, won’t fall off.”
But now, the “treasure boy” hit a wall. The other person seemed like a statue, completely unresponsive.
Zhou Qingluo thought, This kind of no-interaction feeling is scarier than being ignored.
He had come to give a gift, and it turned into a product pitch.
He took a deep breath, endured the awkwardness, and slowly took back the doll. With a soft plop, he stuck it back on his own helmet.
There was an atmosphere he couldn’t liven up? Zhou Qingluo felt very displeased.
If interaction didn’t work, praise might. Who doesn’t like compliments?
“You’re really good with computers.”
Still no reaction. It was like the other person had built a wall between himself and the world.
Forget it. Zhou Qingluo gave up.
He cleared his throat, stepped back, and sincerely said:
“Anyway, thank you for taking me to the hospital that day. Saving my life is a great kindness. If you ever need help, just call me.”
He then pulled a pen and paper from his pocket, wrote his phone number, and handed it over.
As a creator, Zhou Qingluo always carried a small notebook and pen to draw or record inspiration when he saw something interesting.
Maybe I can draw the face of the person who saved my life.
Finally, the other person reacted, raising a hand to take the number.
Zhou Qingluo looked at his hand and sighed in relief. Maybe I can draw the hands too.
Maybe even a full-body portrait.
This kind of boy must be liked by many girls—cold, handsome, carrying a natural distance.
Though cold, he also seemed kind at heart.
Zhou Qingluo waved with a smile:
“I’m going to work now. Bye.”
He turned to leave but heard the other person speak:
“Zhou Qingluo.”
“Ah~” Zhou Qingluo replied warmly, only to be met with a mocking look:
“What exactly do you want?”
Zhou Qingluo was confused and scratched his flattened hair.
“Was my way of saying thanks really that subtle?”
The other person shook the note in his hand, coldly:
“I’m not interested in you. Don’t waste effort trying to get my attention.”
Zhou Qingluo: “???”
Why is he so domineering?
“Don’t think just because you’re a little attractive, you can imitate others and expect attention, got it?”
“…”
Wait—imitate others?
Zhou Qingluo wasn’t foolish. He paused, thought carefully, and came to two conclusions:
- When you have nothing to do, spend a few dollars on novels, or you won’t understand the story if you transmigrate.
- Never think with a fixed mindset; surprises and unexpected things always come first.
For example, maybe that night Song Ling was being merciful and personally sent him to the hospital.
Or maybe the person in front of him is Song Ling himself.
Though the answer seemed obvious, Zhou Qingluo wanted confirmation.
He cautiously asked:
“Song Ling?”
Song Ling, whose eyebrows and eyes resembled Jiang Shiyan’s, nodded:
“Mm.”
Zhou Qingluo froze, then adjusted his mindset.
He had been jogging after the person, giving the doll, handing over his number, and promising to help anytime.
I didn’t try that hard to get his attention, he thought.
After scolding himself mentally, he calmly retrieved his number from Song Ling’s hand.
Song Ling’s hand emptied, slowly lowered, still coldly looking at him.
Zhou Qingluo’s mind raced. How could he cover up that Song Ling didn’t recognize him?
After thinking, he realized he couldn’t, so he decided to let it slide.
He composed himself, showing a sad expression, lowered his head, and said politely:
“Okay, I understand. I won’t bother you again.”
Song Ling looked at his sudden change in attitude within a minute and sneered.
Sure enough, just someone fickle, doing this for money, pretending on the surface. How can they be compared to Shiyan?
