After going downstairs, Chu Menghan walked over to Zhou Hai and sat beside him. Watching the endless stream of people coming and going through the hospital, she suddenly seemed to understand why her father had insisted that she return home.
“The case is over, so why do you still look so depressed? Don’t tell me you and Lu Xi have been having problems lately? Did you two fight?”
Zhou Hai glanced at the irritatingly smug Chu Menghan beside him. He really wanted to smack her for that comment—but only in theory. If he actually tried, he probably wouldn’t even qualify as a punching bag; she’d disable him in seconds.
“When are you leaving?”
Chu Menghan’s expression stiffened. She shot him a cold glare, brushed the loose strands of hair from her forehead, then burst out laughing.
“We’re both terrible at making conversation. Everything we say sounds annoying.”
“Maybe. But I’m still not as annoying as you. Tell me before you leave. I want to give you a gift.”
Chu Menghan lifted a hand and patted Zhou Hai on the shoulder.
“Forget the gift. If you came with me, I might actually consider it. Stop looking so troubled. You already have two beauties at home—one big and one small. What more do you want?”
Zhou Hai looked at her, trying to determine whether she had been joking with that earlier comment or whether she had actually meant it.
But Chu Menghan avoided eye contact entirely. She probably had just said it casually.
“I’m serious though. What’s wrong with you? Did Vice President Ye remind you of your mother?”
For once, Chu Menghan’s instincts were surprisingly sharp. Zhou Hai glanced at her. If one ignored her violent tendencies, she really was a decent friend.
“As a doctor, she wasn’t a very good one. But as a mother… it’s enviable to have a mother who loves her child that much.
My mother was also a doctor. She was always busy and rarely paid attention to me. Whenever she looked at me, there was endless coldness in her eyes. She spoke harshly to my father too. I didn’t understand it when I was young, but as I grew older, I began to understand why.
Still, whenever I see other mothers holding their children, I can’t help feeling a little jealous.”
Chu Menghan had heard about Zhou Hai’s parents before. Looking at him staring into the distance, she lightly nudged his shoe with her foot.
“Stop acting sentimental, okay?
We’re complete opposites. I grew up under twenty-four-hour surveillance. My parents and brother were all military personnel. I never even knew what sleeping in meant.
Starting at age three, I had to run fifteen hundred meters every single day. I’d come home exhausted like a dog, and then I still had to wait for everyone to gather and finish singing before we could eat.
No snacks. Meals, exercise, studying—everything followed a strict schedule. It was like living with twenty alarm clocks. If I missed even one scheduled time, the punishment was no dinner plus twenty laps around the compound.
Luckily, I had my brother. He took the blame for me plenty of times. My parents and family also had huge expectations for him.
But after he died, everything fell onto my shoulders. Sometimes I really wish I wasn’t part of the Chu family. Why do I have to carry all these expectations?”
Her words pulled Zhou Hai back from his thoughts. He remembered Captain Liu mentioning something about it before, though he had never asked further.
“Your brother died?”
“Mhm. His name was Chu Xiangyang. He was six years older than me—the pride and hope of the Chu family. Following my father’s wishes, he joined the submarine forces in the southeast. A year ago, there was an accident during a mission, and he never came back.”
Zhou Hai patted her shoulder.
“Did your brother have children?”
Chu Menghan nodded.
“A pair of twins. That’s at least some comfort. Otherwise, my old man probably would’ve gone insane.”
“It’s time for you to go back. You can’t keep hiding in the southeast forever. Having family members who need your protection… that’s also a kind of happiness.”
Chu Menghan smiled at him, though there was a trace of bitterness in that smile.
“Soon. Probably around the middle of the month.”
“When you took Vice President Ye away, did everyone else see it?”
Chu Menghan thought for a moment and nodded.
“Even without explanations, I think everyone understood. Once the police escorted her away and the entire department’s restrictions were lifted, what else needed to be said?”
“You should investigate Shang Lei’s car accident from before. No matter what the result is, it still needs to be looked into. Otherwise, Ye Xin will never escape that shadow. She’ll spend her whole life trapped in it, and even if she manages to crawl out one day, she’ll probably walk the path of revenge again.”
Chu Menghan nodded.
“I’ll handle it before I leave. Alright, I’m going. Get me the autopsy report quickly.”
Zhou Hai’s face darkened.
“I didn’t drive here, you know.”
“I know. Take a taxi back. Besides, don’t you have a girlfriend? Call her to pick you up. It’s not like she doesn’t know where the center is. Bye-bye!”
As she spoke, Chu Menghan headed toward the hospital entrance, waving an arm at him while walking away. She really was infuriating.
Zhou Hai checked the time. It seemed perfect for inviting Lu Xi out for lunch. He stood and headed toward the hospital gates.
Half an hour later, at the teaching and research building of Southeast University, outside Lu Xi’s office.
Zhou Hai’s sudden appearance completely caught Lu Xi off guard. Seeing him leaning casually against the doorframe, her cheeks instantly flushed red. It was as though today was the first time she truly realized she had a boyfriend.
She glanced nervously back into the office.
“What are you doing here?”
Seeing her reaction, Zhou Hai also looked into the office. It was full of male teachers, all pretending not to stare toward the doorway.
He stepped forward, took the sky-blue trench coat from Lu Xi’s hands, shook it open, and draped it around her shoulders, wrapping her inside it before pulling her close.
“Do I need to file a report in advance just to go on a date with my girlfriend?”
As he spoke, he lightly kissed the corner of her lips.
Lu Xi’s already rosy cheeks instantly turned scarlet. She tried to push him away, but Zhou Hai gave her no opportunity whatsoever. He held her tightly just as music began echoing across the campus.
The teachers all started walking toward the doorway.
Zhou Hai tugged Lu Xi farther down the corridor, but his possessive grip never loosened. He wanted all those men to know exactly what relationship he had with Lu Xi. The longing looks in their eyes needed no explanation—they were pure jealousy mixed with envy.
Lu Xi looked anxious and glanced behind her.
“I’m telling you, I only found out this morning—”
Before she could finish, an elegant-looking man walked up behind them. His hair was streaked gray-white, and he wore black-rimmed glasses. Though age had left traces on his face, it was easy to tell he must have been very handsome when younger.
The man reached out and patted Zhou Hai on the shoulder.
“You’re Forensic Doctor Zhou?”
The sudden question caught Zhou Hai completely off guard. He finally loosened his hold on Lu Xi and turned toward the man in confusion.
“That’s right. And you are…?”
“I’m Lu Xi’s father—Lu Zhengfei.”
Zhou Hai blinked rapidly. (@_@;)
He looked at the refined and scholarly Lu Zhengfei, completely baffled, until Lu Xi jabbed him sharply in the ribs.
Only then did it finally register in his brain.
So this was the real father-in-law!
Zhou Hai quickly gave a slight bow while secretly grabbing Lu Xi’s wrist and squeezing it hard, the meaning obvious:
Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!
“Hello, Uncle. Just call me Zhou Hai! When did you return from Hainan?”
Lu Zhengfei nodded, the expression on his face softening slightly.
“Since you’re here, let’s have lunch together. There are some things I’d like to discuss with you.”
What could Zhou Hai possibly say to that?
He hurriedly forced a smile onto his face.
“Sure… let’s have lunch together…”
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