Neither Yan Suizhi nor Gu Yan were people who were easily alarmed. Even if their hearts started to race, their expressions didn’t show the slightest change.

The moment Yan Suizhi read that line of words on the poster, many conjectures had flashed across his mind. 

Was that power failure an accident?

Did Dr Lin have a hand in all that?

Was the data from his genetic test already uploaded to the cloud? What information had been uploaded? How detailed was it, exactly?

But regardless, this viral screening had to be shelved for now. There was no reason for them to go forward without making the least bit of preparations when they clearly knew that there was an issue. 

He wanted to check first—did the data from the previous test get out?

Quite a number of days had passed since that genetic test. If the power failure and data upload was premeditated, then it was impossible that his past few days had passed this quietly and smoothly. Something ought to have happened.

Dr Lin seemed to be answering a communication call from a patient’s relative and was talking calmly to the other end of the line.

“Yes, that’s a normal reaction.”

“Are you referring to drug dependency? There hasn’t been a reaction like that so far; the likelihood isn’t high.”

“It’s okay. If you’re still worried, you can bring him over for another check-up.”

“Yes, that’s right. Some patients will…”

As he spoke, he even turned his head to look over at Yan Suizhi and Gu Yan, apologetically gesturing at them again to wait a moment more, that he’d be done soon. 

Yan Suizhi rested his fingers on the office desk, tapping it gently, thinking of an idea.

He lowered his head to project his smart device screen, first typed a few lines into his memo, then switched to the communications interface and fiddled with it a bit.

Two seconds later, the ring on Gu Yan’s little finger started to vibrate.

He was initially looking at the poster, lost in thought, and froze for a moment before reacting to the new incoming communications request. 

The moment he opened his screen, the communications interface popped out. The contact name set for the incoming request leapt before his eyes, one word written with extraordinary clarity—

Intern.

Gu Yan, “…”

He looked at the comms, then mutely at Yan Suizhi, expressionlessly choosing to accept it. He put on his earpiece and said without the faintest undulation in his tone, “Hello.” 

At critical moments, Lawyer Gu was very reliable. They had a chemistry that went beyond words.

Most importantly, his expression was perpetually frozen over. No matter how he acted, it always seemed like the real deal, because he didn’t even have to change his expression at all.

Professor Yan was very satisfied with this.

He winked at Gu Yan and projected those few lines on the memo for Gu Yan to read. 

The memo looked like this:

-Hello?

-Miss Li?

-You’re arriving? 

-I still have to do a test. I’ll take around twenty minutes.

-You’re rushing for time?

-Okay. I’ll let the doctor know and come down in a while.

Gu Yan, “…” 

Where did this dramatics come from? And who was Miss Li?

Yan Suizhi seemed to think of something again, and he swiftly added underneath:

-There’s a notary office nearby. Miss Li is a notary.

Gu Yan, “…” 

Yan Suizhi’s eyes crinkled, silently urging him to quickly start acting.

Xe · Dfra Cmabg · Tjc’r tjcvrbwf ojmf kjr qjgjisrfv. Llr vbkcmjrafv ujhf mbbiis ijcvfv bc atf tbibugjw, jcv la kjr tjgv ab afii lo tf kjr qgbafralcu bg wbmxlcu atf rmglqa.

Gg Olc kjr jigfjvs kjixlcu yjmx ab tlr boolmf vfrx, tlr mbwwr mjii cfjais qeiilcu lcab atf ajli-fcv:

“Cigluta, pera atlr?” 

“No problem. It’s my job.”

“Bye.”

When Dr Lin came over, Gu Yan’s finger moved. With a calm expression, he deleted Director Yan’s script.

He pressed a hand to the earpiece, indifferently uttering, “Mn.” 

A moment later, he spoke again. “Alright. See you soon.”

Then, he directly cut off the comms.

“…”

The Dogmatic Director Yan had some comments about his discriminatory behaviour towards the script, but he had to admit that the other’s improvisation did seem more natural than his script. 

After Gu Yan cut the line, he took off his earpiece and said to Lin Yuan, “Sorry, I have to go downstairs to meet someone. Will you still be around later?”

Lin Yuan gave a start. “Ah? Oh, yes, I don’t have much on now; I’ll be on this floor. Why? You can’t make time for the test?”

Gu Yan darted a look at the clock on the wall and spoke in a calm, businesslike tone, “I made an appointment with a notary before this. She’s rushing for time, so she came by earlier.”

Having had some understanding of how lawyers worked, Lin Yuan suddenly saw the light. “I see. You have to collect evidence, right? In our hospital?” 

“Yes. I need to access the diagnosis records of that client of mine,” Gu Yan said, patting Yan Suizhi’s shoulder, motioning for him to leave.

Yan Suizhi wanted to drop a reminder or two at first, but hearing him finish, he immediately set his mind at ease and let himself be invited out of the room.

“Diagnosis records?” Lin Yuan gave a start when he heard this, then nodded, saying, “Nevermind then, go on. You can leave the slip with me and just come back when you’re done. Don’t take too long; after all, it can be quite worrying to have an invalid test result.”

When saying that last bit, the gaze he directed at Gu Yan was foreboding, strikingly like he was looking at a modern-day exploiter. It was as if he was saying it is still unclear whether or not that intern of yours has contracted the virus, but you’re still hauling him downstairs to do labour. 

And as if there was something or other still.

This look made Gu Yan feel wronged.

In all honesty, he was even more concerned than anyone else as far as Yan Suizhi’s health status was concerned. But the current situation was rather awkward; Lin Yuan had landed into their list of suspects. It was hard to say which was worse between ‘putting off the test for the virus’ and ‘leaving Yan Suizhi here to do the test alone’.

He already had one foot out the door when he heard Lin Yuan’s words, and he paused in his step. 

Where they couldn’t be seen from the office, Yan Suizhi tugged his finger in a calming gesture. Then, he smiled at Lin Yuan and said, “It won’t take much time; after all, if I’ve really contracted the virus, this small pocket of time won’t matter. We’ll come back up in a bit.”

Gu Yan looked at him with his brows furrowed.

Lin Yuan half-jokingly said, “Bah, how can you jinx yourself like that?”

His lack of concern towards himself was, in truth, rather vexing, such that even after entering the lift, the tension between Gu Yan’s brows had yet to relax. 

Yan Suizhi stood shoulder to shoulder with him. Without having to turn his head, he could feel Gu Yan staring fixedly at him, possibly even entertaining thoughts of disciplining him. He endured the sear of those eye beams for a while, but when he was finally unable to hold up, he reached a hand up to cover Gu Yan’s eyes. “Alright, alright. Stop looking, I can’t take it anymore.”

He smiled. He originally wanted to tide the topic over with a joke, teasing Gu Yan a bit. But just before he opened his mouth, he suddenly recalled some little details of the past, such as those black beddings that had been stuffed back into the closet, and the white flowers that the latter refused to take at the cemetery for the life of him.

And then, he suddenly felt that if he really joked about it, he would be letting down this person in front of him, who would worry for him.

Fortunately, the genetics building wasn’t busy at this time. They were the only two in the lift, so he could coax him with confidence. 

“I won’t speak like that next time; stop staring at me.” Yan Suizhi smiled warmly and went on to say, “If you don’t believe me, I can write it into a contract tonight.”

He was going to take his hand away, but when he heard this, he clasped the other’s wrist and didn’t move.

Yan Suizhi carried on, “I’m also afraid that I’ll be infected. This virus is so contagious; if I really catch it, you can’t run off either.”

He didn’t know which of these words defused Gu Yan’s temper, but he felt that the grip on his wrist had lightened. 

After a moment more, Gu Yan’s thin and attractive lips moved. He said, “Why would I run?”

“You’re missing the point,” Yan Suizhi said snappishly. “With the way that I’ve been fooling around with you all day, since you didn’t contract the virus, how could I have contracted it?”

Gu Yan, “…”

Now he was being unreasonable; how had they been fooling around? 

But Yan Suizhi wasn’t daunted by that, continuing to comfort, “I feel that it might be my previous genetic modification surgery that caused some interference.”

This conjecture did sound plausible.

In actuality, Gu Yan had also thought of this. It was just that… he cared too much.

In the span of these few sentences, the elevator descended to the ground floor and gave a chime. The doors were about to open. 

“We’re on the ground floor already.” Gu Yan held Yan Suizhi’s wrist, implying for him not to cover his eyes and impede him from walking.

When drawing his hand back, Yan Suizhi was finally unable to suppress the urge, teasing, half in earnest, “Why didn’t I realise your eyelashes were so long before? One blink and they grazed my palms; say, are you harbouring wicked thoughts?”

“…”

Open his mouth and slander would come. With a throbbing head, Lawyer Gu directly pushed the shoulders of a certain someone, ushering him out of the elevator. 

There were query facilities linked to a cloud database in the lobby of every Spring Ivy building. Of course, its database wasn’t only limited to Spring Ivy Hospital’s records but synchronised across all hospitals in the alliance. Such kiosks were available in every hospital to ease patients’ being transferred between hospitals and other follow-up actions.

Theoretically, access to patient records was only possible under the pretext that the identity number was known. But this would only impede the ordinary masses. If someone had ulterior motives, they could uncover everything they wanted to check with just a little bit of effort.

After getting out of the elevator, Yan Suizhi dialled a comms.

“Are we really finding a notary?” Gu Yan asked. 

“Of course.”

If you’re going to act, you’ve got to sell the whole charade.

Yan Suizhi was without any misgivings. “The type of medical tests that that unpleasant client took during these days in the hospital and its findings are important information. It’s only normal to look for a notary.”

Before the notary arrived, they were already standing next to the query kiosk. 

A hospital staff member was stationed next to the kiosk, all smiles, looking exactly like a guard on sentry duty. The moment anyone needed to look up something, he’d be there to help them work the machine.

“What do you need to check? Which department?” The young man in the white coat asked courteously.

Yan Suizhi glanced at the security camera not far away and said to the young man, “We’re here to collect evidence.”

“Collect evidence?” the young man gave a start. 

Gu Yan showed him his lawyer’s identification.

Because Horace Lee was hospitalised here during this time, the higher-ups had notified the hospital staff that there would be a need for evidence collection for a legal case and hoped that everyone in the hospital would do their utmost to cooperate. However, both the prosecution and the defence lawyers had to show proof of their identity.

The young man reacted very quickly, still showing the same level of politeness. “Got it. Um… do you need me to do anything?”

Gu Yan said, “No hurry. Wait for the notary to come first.” 

“Alright,” said the young man.

Gu Yan studied the kiosk and asked, “Are a patient’s diagnosis results uploaded in real time? Is it possible that there would be omissions?”

He asked this in a very offhand manner. The young man wasn’t able to detect anything at all, assuming that the lawyer was worried the patient’s records were incomplete and had simply asked in passing.

The young man said, “Don’t worry, there won’t be any omissions.” 

He didn’t normally have much to chat with others over here, usually only reciting the same spiel about how to work the kiosk in a businesslike manner over and over again. So, given that they were killing time waiting for someone, he went into a bit more detail for his explanation, “Actually, it’s not really uploaded to the cloud in real time. In general, all the medical records of the hospital would be automatically backed up by the instruments and apparatus after each test, and this backup is kept in the database of each department. Thereafter, at midnight, it will be transferred to the cloud according to each department. After all, the doctors have to clear the medical conditions first to ensure that there aren’t any machine errors.”

“I see,” Yan Suizhi nodded.

The young man in a white coat, possibly out of boredom from just standing around, went on to ask, “Aside from the evidence, is there anything else you want to look up? You can search for anything here.”

Yan Suizhi internally praised this young man for his thoughtfulness, offering him a ladder right before he was about to lift his foot. 

He said with a smile, “Really? Are there records from several decades ago as well?”

“Yep, there are.”

“Then let me check mine,” Yan Suizhi continued naturally. “I came by for a check-up a few days ago.”

The young man didn’t sense any oddities with that and got down to work the kiosk, then showed them the interface. “Fill in your identity number here, then select the date range and tap on the search button.” 

Yan Suizhi reached over to tap the blinking cursor, and paused right after inputting the first two digits.

The young man in a white coat was puzzled. “Why? Did the interface freeze?”

Professor Yan said in his head, No, my brain froze.

Though he adapted quite well to this fake identity, he’d never made a deliberate effort to memorise his ID number. All of the cases he had handled previously were already bound to his ID number, so there wasn’t any need for him to fill it in digit by digit. 

Yan Suizhi whipped his head over and looked at Gu Yan. “Teacher, help me?”

It wasn’t convenient for him to call Gu Yan casually in front of outsiders. However, before, he had always either spoken this honorific as a casual drop or in jest. This was a first that he was properly, even with a touch of docility, using this honorific.

Gu Yan silently digested it for two seconds before wordlessly going through his smart device. He quickly pulled up the registration document Yan Suizhi used at the beginning, and let him look at the screen.

This time, Professor Yan finally took it seriously. 

His memory was always good whenever he was serious. With a single glance, he memorised that ridiculously long string of numbers.

Then did the young man in a white coat understand why he had frozen up. He chuckled next to them, saying, “That’s nothing. I had to remember my ID number from middle school to university, but I’d still forget it once every few days. Whenever it comes to times like this, I’d be really envious of people born in Wine City or Helan. I heard that the ID numbers over there are particularly short.”

“It’s only expected; they have a lower population,” Yan Suizhi flippantly answered, hitting search after inputting the digits.

The interface took a few seconds to load before a record popped up, right smack in the middle of the screen. 

His test results from that day were, indeed, uploaded.

Name: Ruan Ye | Item: Genetic Testing | Views: 6

Beneath it was the time stamp and some irrelevant information.

Yan Suizhi’s expression didn’t change in the slightest, but his gaze paused for a while on the number ‘6’. 

A moment later, he then raised his hand once more to click on the record. The interface changed, with the detailed test results page popping up.

It was obvious from a quick glance that the information was even more detailed than what was on the screen of the testing apparatus back then, with a lot of supplementary notes on the side. The page number at the bottom indicated that this document was six pages long in total. From the level of detail alone, if someone really looked up his test results, they’d essentially find everything that they had set out to find.

Yan Suizhi expressionlessly swiped down to the bottom, and suddenly sensed something wrong, then turned back to the fifth page.

Most of the contents on this page were related to his genetic condition, and the lines of data were densely packed together, reading like divine scripture. 

Near the end of the page, there was a line that led on to the next part.

History of genetic modification surgery:

Below this line was the blank space of the end of the page. The answer was separated on the next page.

Yan Suizhi slid his finger, and the page gently turned. 

And so he saw that there was only one word stated, point-blank, at the head of the sixth page.

None.

Yan Suizhi gave a start.

He flipped back the two pages again. 

Plain as day, it was stated ‘None’.

This time, he didn’t continue to conceal anything, but turned his head to look at Gu Yan, then carried on reading from that line.

The data on the last page was extremely simple. While it was still incomprehensible to non-professionals, he was still able to extract a few scattered but useful lines from it.

Efficacy period of genetic modifications: No traces detected. 

Presence of genetic modifications: None.

Yan Suizhi stared at it for a while, then silently switched back to the previous interface.

The name was Ruan Ye. The time was correct as well, and his ID number matched up.

There was no mistake. 

The result was obvious. His data had been edited before it was uploaded.