"Yeah, I’m the one who gave it to him." Lu She crunched loudly on an apple, shooting a sidelong glance at Jiang Tong. "I haven't even asked you yet—what does Young Master Xiao want with your WeChat?"
When the call had come through, Lu She almost thought he’d been bedridden so long he was starting to hallucinate. Xiao Fengtai’s tone had been flat as he claimed he had some questions to ask Jiang Tong. Lu She desperately wanted to say, *'As if anyone would believe that,'* but in person, he found it impossible to utter a single word of refusal.
It seemed the kid was dead set on tangling with Jiang Tong. Lu She set his phone down, feeling a wave of worry. He considered whether he should discharge himself early just to set Jiang Tong free.
Before he could act, however, Jiang Tong showed up at his door.
"He only sent a friend request; he hasn't said anything yet." Jiang Tong gathered the peeled apple skins into his hand and tossed them into the bin, then pulled out a tissue to wipe a stray water droplet off the nightstand.
Lu She stared at him and let out an exaggeratedly long sigh.
"I wonder which girl is going to have all the luck," Lu She said sourly. "Look at you—good-looking, smart, even-tempered, and so domestic! Your future wife is going to have it way too easy."
"Stop trying to set me up with girlfriends," Jiang Tong said with a shake of his head and a smile. "I don't want to waste anyone's time."
Lu She looked at him like he was a hopeless cause. "It’s the girls who are begging me to set them up with you, okay? Big brother, get a grip on your self-image! Those girls don't care if a guy is currently poor, yet here you are, writing yourself off. Honestly, are you being pretentious or just difficult?"
"What did Young Master Xiao say when he looked for you?" Jiang Tong forced a change of subject.
"Just said he wanted to ask you some questions—hey, I’m talking business here, don't try to distract me with idle chatter!" Lu She’s Beijing accent flared up the moment he got anxious.
Jiang Tong began packing his bag. "The lab has been busy lately. I won't be coming to see you for the next few weeks. Focus on your recovery."
"Hmph! I don't have an ungrateful brother like you!"
Jiang Tong was indeed busy. Every morning the moment he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, Pei Jing’s "coffin-lid" face would float into his mind. He knew Pei Jing was a man of his word.
Professor Gu’s lab was a gathering place for top talents. Jiang Tong spent his days quietly scrubbing test tubes, not in any rush to show off. Once the tubes were clean, he didn't leave the lab; instead, he lingered, wandering around to help with odd jobs—changing pipette tips, organizing slides, or even taking out the trash and wiping down tables. He quickly integrated himself with the rest of the group.
Jiang Tong was particularly popular with the female graduate students. Life in the ivory tower was lonely, and having a handsome young man hovering around every day was a treat in itself. Moreover, this young man worked fast, did a good job, and maintained a grounded, humble attitude.
The "revolutionary situation" was excellent, with Pei Jing being the only discordant note. Ever since their group experiment had ended on a sour note, Pei Jing ignored Jiang Tong entirely whenever they crossed paths. Knowing he was in the wrong, Jiang Tong continued to greet Pei Jing with a smile.
the female grad students felt the injustice on his behalf.
"Pei Jing has been like a walking corpse since his undergrad days. Tong-tong, don't take it to heart." Senior Sister A had intended to comfort him, but the topic quickly veered off course into a personal roast of Pei Jing.
"When he becomes a boss in the future, he’ll definitely be the harshest, most demanding kind!"
Jiang Tong didn't know whether to agree or disagree, so he could only offer an awkward yet polite smile.
Senior Sister B tried to salvage the situation. "Sigh, you can't really blame him. The project the professor assigned him isn't going well. Haven't you noticed? Lately, he looks like he wants to live in the lab."
"What’s not going well?" Jiang Tong asked cautiously.
Senior Sister B answered nonchalantly, "The cell cultures aren't doing great, I think. I haven't heard him go into detail, but apparently, bone marrow cells are quite hard to keep alive in vitro."
"Stop talking about him, it’s bad luck." Senior Sister A’s anger came and went quickly. "Tong-tong, come to karaoke with us this weekend. If you sing for us, we'll let you follow us on our experiments."
"We'll see when the time comes," Jiang Tong laughed.
The lab machines hummed incessantly seven days a week, with Friday nights being the only exception. It was the end of a long week of toil, yet the weekend had not quite arrived. Caught in the gap between old exhaustion and new pleasure, people tended to slack off. Even if they had to come back for overtime on Saturday and Sunday, Friday night was the immovable "happy hour" for the lab's "migrant workers."
Amidst this festive and peaceful atmosphere, only Pei Jing remained unmoved, his heart entirely preoccupied with his ill-fated bone marrow cells. He had held preliminary discussions with his supervisor and tried several methods, but once removed from the body, the bone marrow cells became like eggplants hit by frost—quickly withering, then shrinking and dying.
If this continued, he would have no choice but to ask the patient to undergo another bone marrow aspiration.
He wondered if the patient's family would come to the lab to smash things up.
The observation results under the microscope were unsatisfactory. Pei Jing took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose, silently enduring the throbbing pain at the back of his head. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to find Jiang Tong.
Pei Jing immediately stood up to pack his things.
"I have a suggestion," Jiang Tong said hurriedly. "The bone marrow cell culture might be failing because the medium environment doesn't match the real conditions. Could we try to simulate the human environment by co-culturing the bone marrow cells with stromal cells?"
Pei Jing stopped moving.
"Who told you that?" he asked in a low voice, his face expressionless. Only someone extremely close to him could have discerned a trace of near-invisible excitement in his cold eyes.
"I looked up some literature," Jiang Tong said confidently. "Though it wasn't about bone marrow, it involved a similar experimental design. I don't think we have any better options besides this."
"Oh," Pei Jing said, continuing to clear his desk.
"I'll go discuss it with the professor." They walked out of the lab together. While waiting for the elevator, Pei Jing suddenly spoke.
"If the plan is feasible, you'll assist me. We'll do this part of the experiment together."
It was a stroke of luck—a "meat bun falling from the sky"—and Jiang Tong was so stunned he was momentarily speechless.
Pei Jing was harsh, but he was incredibly fair. Assisting him and having the experiment go smoothly would give Jiang Tong a chance to shine right under Professor Gu’s nose.
He was so happy he wanted to shout. Unable to calm down, he decided to walk home. Singapore was planted everywhere with Poinciana trees, and it was currently their season. Vast clusters of orange, scarlet, and vermilion flowers bloomed silently in the night, looking like burning red clouds in the darkness.
Jiang Tong’s heart was racing; everything looked beautiful to him. On a whim, he took a photo of the scenery and posted it to his WeChat Moments. He rarely ever posted anything, and thinking it might be inappropriate, he planned to delete it—only to find that 'ftx' had already liked the photo.
When he refreshed again, 'ftx' had unliked it.
Jiang Tong found it amusing and tapped into the chat box: "You didn't like that photo?"
This time, the reply was instantaneous: "it’s not me."
Jiang Tong felt a sudden urge to tease him: "Speak Chinese."
"My cousin stole my phone."
"No using Google Translate."
The message sank into the sea; there was no further reply.
Jiang Tong imagined the young boy with his delicate brows knit in anger, letting out a cold huff as he tossed his phone onto the bed. He didn't even realize there was a smile playing on his own lips.
***
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