An 80s female translator was spoiled rotten by a rough and jealous man.

Chapter 333 "What is he?"

The room Huo Qingshan is currently living in was where that person lived before the accident. The room is on the third floor of the officers' apartments in the camp, at the south end of the corridor. It is about fifty square meters, with a pure open-plan design, without functional areas for bedrooms and living rooms. It has a simple kitchen area and a separate bathroom, which is the standard accommodation configuration for battalion-level officers.

The patient lay in the hospital room, which had been empty for over a year, its contents untouched. Before he moved in, the team had only given it a cursory cleaning, leaving the furnishings exactly as they were before he left on his mission.

He inserted the key into the lock, gave it a gentle turn, and with a soft "click," the door opened. The man gripped the metal doorknob with one hand and carried his suitcase with the other, pushing the door open and stepping inside. The room was pitch black, so he used the dim light filtering in from the hallway to feel his way along the wall and press the main light switch. The warm yellow light instantly illuminated the entire room.

The balcony window was half-open for ventilation, and the draft carried away the lingering stale air, leaving only a faint dusty smell. The furnishings were all military green, standard style. A metal wardrobe stood against the wall, a solid wood desk sat by the window, and in the center was a hardboard bed with its blankets folded neatly, without a single wrinkle.

To outsiders, Huo Qingshan moving back into the house seemed like "returning the property to its rightful owner," but Huo Qingshan knew in his heart that he was actually "usurping someone else's place."

The man spent more than ten minutes packing up the clothes and supplies he had brought, organizing them properly. After finishing, he glanced at his phone screen; it was 9:40. Noticing that the battery level at the top was almost gone, Huo Qingshan walked to the wooden table by the window and plugged it in to charge.

The phone screen lit up automatically the moment it was plugged in, and the dark blue lock screen glowed. Just before it turned off, a WeChat message popped up.

It was Dr. Wei from the Rehabilitation Department who sent a message asking if his body was still able to adapt to the current work rhythm after he had just returned to the team these past two days.

Huo Qingshan said he felt fine and everything was alright, so the other party could rest assured.

At the end of the conversation, Dr. Wei repeatedly advised him to act within his capabilities, gradually increase the intensity of training, and not to overexert himself or try to do too much at once, but to proceed step by step.

Huo Qingshan simply replied "Okay," then exited the chat window and returned to the chat list. He glanced at it briefly, about to exit the app, when his fingertips suddenly stopped. He was instinctively drawn to a brightly colored WeChat profile picture—a girl wearing a bright yellow tank top that made her skin look incredibly fair and radiant. She casually tossed her ponytail over her head with one hand, exuding a playful charm. Under the red sunset at the beach, she tilted her head and smiled radiantly at the camera, her eyebrows curving into lively crescent shapes, her lips red and teeth white, vying for brilliance with the surrounding sunset, yet winning effortlessly.

This is her new WeChat profile picture; it wasn't like this yesterday. Men's social circles are extremely simple; they don't contact many people online regularly. His contact list is filled with small, monotonous black-and-white square profile pictures, along with a few landscape photos, but this one stands out prominently among them.

A clear, large image unfolded before him, smiling radiantly at him. Huo Qingshan suddenly realized what was happening. When he realized he had actually clicked on the girl's WeChat profile picture, Huo Qingshan attributed his unusual behavior to the photo's overly vibrant and eye-catching colors, and also because they had only added each other as friends yesterday, and her profile picture was positioned relatively high in the contact list.

The man shook his head, clicked the exit icon, and then clicked exit again. Just then, his phone vibrated. As soon as he entered the chat window, a message popped up out of nowhere from the left.

Yoyo: "I just had a dream. In the dream, you said you missed me and told me that the first thing I should do when I woke up was to send you a message, and I did it obediently."

The man's heart skipped a beat when he saw the message, but slowly returned to normal. He stared at the screen for a few minutes before typing, then paused for another ten seconds before finally pressing send: "It's not even ten o'clock yet, the dorm lights are still on." The girl replied almost instantly: "No denial~ So you really miss me?"

The man's eyelids twitched twice the moment he saw the text. Her words and messages were always overwhelming, leaving him completely unable to cope.

To say that you didn't understand her feelings would be a lie. A girl's thoughts are obvious, frank, and straightforward; she presents them to a man without hiding anything, constantly making her presence felt and forcing him to acknowledge her feelings. There's no possibility of pretending to be oblivious or running away.

Faced with her repeated, undeniable ambiguous signals, Huo Qingshan's initial reaction was: Are all girls in this era so bold in their behavior? After a moment of calm, the man took a moment to consider it carefully, and he sensed something was amiss. He didn't dislike her series of abrupt and impulsive words and actions.

What does this mean? Huo Qingshan wouldn't dare say he was an expert, but he was certainly not ignorant. He had no need to deceive himself, nor did he intend to pretend to be confused. He just hadn't figured out what to do next.

The man put down his phone, letting it lie quietly on the table to charge. Huo Qingshan turned around, walked to the wardrobe, found a clean set of clothes, and went into the shower to take a bath.

In less than five minutes, the man, with a white towel over his head and rubbing the water droplets from his short hair, strode straight to the window—the source of the constant dripping sound that had been coming from him while he was showering.

Huo Qingshan sat back down at the table, turned on his phone screen, and the fluorescent light reflected in his deep eyes. The man's gaze was as deep as the ocean as he stared at the chat box filled with new messages from the same person, his fingertips hovering above the screen for a long time without moving.

Huo Qingshan wondered: What is he? What is he really in this world?
An independent and complete individual? It doesn't seem so.

A normal person? He wasn't sure. There were so many things that Huo Qingshan was uncertain about. He wasn't sure if one day he would be suddenly pulled back by something and never belong to this world again.

Does a soul that can't make its own decisions have the right and the means to get involved in love and romance?
However, even when the apartment building's lights went out at the designated time, Huo Qingshan still couldn't figure out how to reply to her message.

As night deepened, Huo Qingshan silenced his phone, placed it aside, and went to bed to rest.

After closing his eyes for a short while, the man suddenly sat up, reached for the phone on the bedside table, and changed her name in the contact field to "Meng Youyou" in one go. Then, without looking at it again, he turned off the phone and put it in the drawer.

Silence fell, the room was dark and empty. The man lay motionless on the bed, his eyes closed. He could no longer hear the incessant, barely audible message notifications, yet his heart grew heavier and heavier. The noise in his chest seemed to protest, low and muffled, transmitted through his bones and tissues to his cochlea, disturbing him all night.