After the breakup, I was taken in by a group of trendy young women.

Lin Ye leaned back on a plastic bench in the hospital corridor, legs crossed, an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

The smell of disinfectant in the corridor was so strong it could choke you, and the incandescent light bulbs made everyone's faces look deathly pale.

The blond-haired man sat to his left, looking down at his phone, a cotton swab he'd swiped from the nurses' station dangling from his mouth, swinging his legs listlessly.

The tattooed arm sat to his right, draped over the back of the chair, his tongue peeking out from between his lips.

Seven girls—one with floral legs, one with green hair, one with pink hair, and one with bangs—sat in a long row on the benches, their brightly colored hair standing out starkly against the pale corridor lights.

I brought them to the hospital today purely for peace of mind.

Last night, Shen Qing's aching body and inability to walk made Lin Ye worry. He was fine, with his titanium alloy kidneys, he could still play three more games, but Shen Qing was a girl after all, and he couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to her.

In addition, these girls usually lead very rough lives and just tough it out when they get sick, so he thought he might as well bring all seven of them for a physical examination and spend money to put his mind at ease.

"Brother, I'm really fine."

Shen Qing sat on the far side, still wearing that oversized white T-shirt, her hands on her knees, her face still flushed from the morning.

Since she left home this morning, every few steps the tattooed woman takes, she turns back to ask her "Do you need help?", making her so embarrassed that she wanted to bury her head in the cracks between the floor tiles.

"Since we're already here..."

Lin Ye took the unlit cigarette out of his mouth, twirled it around, and said in a tone that left no room for discussion.

Just then, a strange, sarcastic voice drifted over from the other end of the corridor.

"Hey, isn't this Lin Ye? What's wrong? You're so young and already impotent, coming to the hospital to see a urologist?"

Lin Ye frowned, turned his head to look, and then laughed.

Zhang Qian.

She stood at the corner of the corridor, holding a lab report in her hand, wearing the floral dress he recognized—the one she wore when he last met her at the mall entrance; the tag had just been cut off, and the creases at the neckline were still there.

Standing next to her was the athletic man, his tight white T-shirt stretched taut across his arms, and the silver chain around his neck reflecting a cold light under the incandescent bulb.

Both of them wore a carefully rehearsed contempt on their faces, but beneath Zhang Qian's contempt lay an undisguised excitement—the excitement of "finally catching you doing badly."

Zhang Qian walked over in high heels, the heels tapping on the tiled floor of the hospital corridor like a woodpecker chiseling at a tree trunk.

She stopped two steps away from Lin Ye, her gaze first sweeping over the seven colorful heads behind him, then returning to his face, a sarcastic smile curving her lips.

"Lin Ye, I thought you were living a comfortable life with so many young girls, but it turns out you've ended up in the hospital?"

She switched the lab report to her other hand, then covered her mouth with her other hand and chuckled.

"What's wrong? Is your body unable to handle it?"

The athletic man behind him let out a sneer, crossed his arms, and deliberately tensed his biceps.

Lin Ye leaned back on the bench without moving, not even putting his legs down.

Looking at Zhang Qian's exquisitely made-up face, he suddenly found it a little funny—did this woman have a tracking device installed on him?

How come I keep running into them wherever I go?

Before he could even speak, the girls around him erupted in cheers.

Huang Mao was the first to stand up.

She slammed the cotton swab she was holding in her mouth onto the bench, took a step forward to block Lin Ye's path, and glared at Zhang Qian with her dark brown eyes burning with fury: "Who said I'm seeing a urologist? Say it again!"

The woman with the tattoo didn't stand up, but she slowly moved it off the back of the chair and placed it on her knees. Her tongue flickered between her lips, and her voice was as cold as a beer just taken from the freezer: "Sister, is that a lab report from the OB-GYN you're holding? When you come to the OB-GYN for a checkup, it's not certain who has a problem."

Zhang Qian's expression changed for a moment under the pale corridor lights—the tattoo on her arm was right, the lab report in her hand was indeed from the obstetrics and gynecology department.

She subconsciously hid the test results behind her back, a move that did not escape the eyes of the woman with the tattoo.

Hua Tui stood up from the bench, walked to Zhang Qian's side, tilted her head to examine the test results in her hand, and said in a light tone as if chatting casually, "What's wrong, sister? Did your ex, whose hairline is receding, leave you some souvenir? Or is it this one—"

She gestured with her chin towards the athletic man, "What's the problem with that too?"

"What did you say?!"

Zhang Qian's voice was so shrill it cracked, and she took a half step back in her high heels.

"Haven't I made myself clear enough?"

Hua Tui blinked, her expression as innocent as a high school student just out of school.

"You came to the OB-GYN and said my brother is seeing a urologist—let's get checked together and see who's sick."

Green Hair and Pink Hair sat on the bench without moving, but the two of them were whispering to each other, glancing at Zhang Qian every now and then, and then bursting into laughter that they tried to suppress but couldn't quite contain.

Qi Liuhai, holding Wangcai, sat quietly in the corner. He rarely spoke, but his voice was soft, yet every word precisely hit the most painful spot: "Sister, Wangcai was spayed last month. If you need it, I can give you the vet's phone number."

Shen Qing was the last to speak.

She stood up, walked to Lin Ye's side, reached out and took his arm, pressing her whole body against him—she knew Zhang Qian would see, and she also knew that this was what Zhang Qian couldn't stand the most.

She turned her head to look at Zhang Qian, a hint of barely perceptible pity on her exquisitely beautiful face, which could easily be used to smear makeup products: "Sister, my brother is in perfect health, no need for you to worry. But you, remember to get a proper check-up when you come to the hospital, some problems will only get more troublesome if left untreated."

Zhang Qian's face changed from ashen to purplish-red, then to ashen-white, finally settling on a deathly gray that showed she was so enraged that she couldn't speak.

Her lips trembled several times, and the test results were clenched into a ball in her hand.

She glanced at Shen Qing holding Lin Ye's hand, at the blond-haired man blocking their way, at the tattooed arm covered in koi fish stripes, and at the row of colorful girls who were now united in their hatred of the enemy—then she turned to look at the athletic man, as if pleading for help.

The athletic man stepped out from behind Zhang Qian, cleared his throat, and deliberately lowered his voice to try and intimidate her, but he was interrupted by Lin Ye halfway through his sentence.

Lin Ye finally stood up from the bench, patted off non-existent dust from his athletic shorts, put the unlit cigarette back in his mouth, put his hands in his pockets, and took a step forward.

He was half a head taller than the athletic man. When he looked down at the athletic man, the silver chain around the athletic man's neck reflected a cold light under the incandescent light, but no matter how bright the chain was, it could not cover the fine sweat seeping from his forehead.

"Alright," Lin Ye said, uttering only one word.

The volume wasn't loud, and the tone was even, but Zhang Qian and the athletic man both took a half step back at the same time.

Zhang Qian bit her lower lip, glared at him fiercely, and turned to leave.

The athletic guy followed behind her, turned around as if to say something, but after being glanced at by Lin Ye, he swallowed his words and quickly caught up with Zhang Qian.

The two disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

Several nurses pushed a trolley past, glanced at the seven brightly colored girls, and then lowered their heads, pretending they hadn't seen anything.

The blond-haired guy swung his fist hard at the air around the corner, his eyebrows practically flying with satisfaction: "What the hell? Looking for trouble and trying to show off, then trying to run away? Someone like her wouldn't last three episodes in a TV drama!"

The tattooed woman pulled a cigarette pack from her pocket, then put it back. Smoking was prohibited in the hospital. She put a cotton swab in her mouth to satisfy her craving: "Brother, I almost laughed out loud when she said you were coming to the urology department—she doesn't know that anyone who's used your body knows what's what!"

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone's eyes turned to Shen Qing.

Shen Qing, still holding Lin Ye's arm, blushed from her neck to her forehead under their gazes: "Why are you all looking at me like that! We didn't do anything—"

She didn't even believe herself halfway through her sentence.

Everyone in the house saw his limping gait this morning; denying it now is like trying to hide something obvious.

The blond-haired man gave a meaningful "oh," his voice trailing off in a cryptic manner.

Hua Tui whispered something in Shen Qing's ear, and Shen Qing raised her hand to hit her, but Hua Tui dodged it with a grin.

Lin Ye did not turn around.

He took his hand out of his pocket, flicked a cigarette, but didn't light it; he just held it to his nose and smelled it.

He doesn't intend to explain the titanium alloy kidney to anyone.

But he intends to maintain that confident, breezy walk.