Trending topic alert: The mysterious fan site administrator of a top celebrity has been exposed.

Zhou Ai's fingertips hovered over the WeChat contact card sent by Cheng Yingzhi for a few seconds. The smile that had appeared in her eyes because of the "meteorite" and the dachshund avatar had not completely faded. Instead, it transformed into a deeper interest with a clear purpose.

Without hesitation, he clicked the button decisively.

The screen then redirects to the "Add Friends" screen.

The words "meteorite" and his silly dog ​​avatar munching on snacks came into clear view again. Below was only a simple input box, waiting for him to enter verification information.

Zhou Ai's fingertips tapped on the virtual keyboard, typing out a line of text:

[The stitches were removed; they were given to me by Cheng Yingzhi.]

Simple, direct, stating the purpose and source, consistent with his usual dislike of nonsense, and... sufficiently businesslike, without appearing overly deliberate.

But he stared at the line of text for two seconds, his brow twitching almost imperceptibly.

Isn't that tone too harsh? Like giving an order.

A subtle urge to do something swept over me.

He deleted that line.

His fingertips landed on the keyboard again, and after a moment's thought, he typed again.

This time, he added a punctuation mark, and his tone seemed to soften in some inexplicable way.

[The stitches were removed, provided by Cheng Yingzhi :)]

The little smiley face at the end of the sentence, like a casual and friendly tail, instantly softened the awkwardness and purposefulness of the first half.

Hmm, this looks much better.

Zhou Ai examined the verification message with satisfaction, and then clicked the "send" button without hesitation.

A notification pops up indicating that a request has been made.

Zhou Ai turned off her phone screen, tossed it onto a cushioned chair next to her, leaned back into the sofa, and closed her eyes again.

The recording studio remained quiet, with only the low hum of the equipment.

But almost imperceptibly, the corners of his mouth seemed to turn up slightly more than before, forming an extremely subtle yet real curve.

It's like waiting for the start of a game where the ending is already known, but the process might be interesting.

He could even imagine the reaction of that serious Dr. Chu when he received the friend request—probably a slight frown, followed by a blank "accept" out of professional ethics and out of consideration for his brother.

As for that smiley face emoji...

Zhou Ai closed her eyes, and a barely audible chuckle escaped her throat.

Meanwhile, Chu Yi's phone vibrated in his hoodie pocket as he was cooking. He opened WeChat and saw the red dot notification for adding friends at the bottom of the screen. He instinctively knew it was a friend request from Zhou Ai.

Verification message: [Stitches removed, provided by Cheng Yingzhi :)]

Chu Yi raised an eyebrow and turned the screen around before she could see that there was a smiley face at the end.

It's kind of cute in contrast to Zhou Ai's cool and stylish silver hair.

Chu Yi clicked "agree" to add the phone and put it in her pocket without paying any more attention to it.

Chu Yi only took out her phone after she had finished cooking and served the dishes.

[Dr. Chu, the wound seems a little itchy.]

The message was followed by an emoji: a fluffy little dog tilting its head, looking innocent.

Chu Yi's gaze lingered between the puppy hair clip in the meme and the trending image, her fingertips pausing for a moment before she replied in a businesslike manner:

Mild itching is normal during the wound healing process. Avoid scratching and keep the wound dry and clean. If redness, swelling, oozing, or increased pain occurs, please seek medical attention promptly.

The message was sent out and received a reply almost instantly.

【Oh. 】

"So, you'll be the one removing the stitches, right?"

Even through the screen, Chu Yi could almost see the other person's eyes, which always held a somewhat aggressive glint, staring intently at the phone, waiting for his reply.

He remembered that day in the clinic, when this person refused to lie down because of a hairstyle, and in the end, he had to wear a childish hair clip.

[According to hospital regulations, appointments are assigned through the registration system.] Chu Yi's reply was impeccable.

There was silence for a few minutes. Just when Chu Yi thought the conversation was over and was about to turn off her phone and continue eating, a new message popped up.

A screenshot.

It's a screenshot of the trending topics list, specifically #ZhouAiPuppyHairClip#. The hashtag is prominently featured.

Then another text message appeared:

[Dr. Chu, your hair clip seems to be causing me trouble.]

Chu Yi paused for a moment after looking at the message.

So, Zhou Ai knew where the hair clip came from, and might even have... deliberately clipped it to her clothes before going out?

The thought flashed through his mind, but Chu Yi suppressed it.

He had no interest in speculating about the thoughts of top celebrities.

He replied in text: "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. That was indeed my personal item, borrowed temporarily due to the situation. If it has negatively impacted your public image, I can provide a statement clarifying that it was an accident during a medical procedure."

This response was polite and distant, and it completely took responsibility on his own, which is in line with the standard procedure for a doctor to handle unexpected disputes.

Zhou Ai's reply, however, completely deviated from his intended course.

【clarify?】

[So, how does Dr. Chu plan to explain this? Will he say that you personally pinned it in my hair?]

[And then tell everyone that we're in the emergency room dressing room...?]

The sentence was incomplete, but the ellipsis at the end was full of dangerous and suggestive implications.

Chu Yi's fingers tightened slightly as she gripped her phone.

He could almost picture the wicked yet amused smile on Zhou Ai's lips as she sent that message.

Therefore, this person doesn't care about any trouble at all, and may even be happy to see it happen.

He took a deep breath and decided to stop following the other person's lead.

Mr. Zhou, if you feel it's necessary, you can contact the hospital's publicity department through your team. I'm just a doctor, and my job is to treat your wound. Regarding suture removal, please make your appointment on time. If there are no other medical-related questions, I have to go now.

This cold, hard response finally calmed things down for a while.

Just when Chu Yi thought she finally had some peace and quiet, her phone vibrated again.

This time it's a voice message.

Chu Yi clicked on the receiver, and Zhou Ai's voice, which fans called "human bass cannon," came through the earpiece. It had a lazy, magnetic smile that was enhanced by the static, as if it were whispering in his ear:

"Okay. Then on the day the stitches are removed... Dr. Chu, I'll be waiting for you."

After the audio recording finished playing automatically, the consultation room returned to silence, with only the faint sound of traffic coming from outside the window.

Chu Yi put down her phone and looked back at the bowl in front of her, only to find that a piece of vegetable she had picked up had fallen to the edge of the bowl at some point.

He unconsciously raised his hand and touched his earlobe with his fingertips, where a faint vibration from the voice message seemed to still linger.

On the phone screen, the trending topic #ZhouAiPuppyHairClip# was still glaringly displayed.