Forget it, Eric Bennett thought, when soldiers come, generals will block them; when water comes, earth will hold it back. As long as I’m not embarrassed, it’s others who will be.

So he took a deep breath, opened Brian Sullivan’s chat window, and sent a message: “I’ll be waiting for you in the office at nine tonight. /smile.jpg.”

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Author’s note:

Next chapter will be posted the day after tomorrow~ Thank you for your support, bow!

Chapter 12: Time to Come Clean

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At a street stall outside Jihua Hospital, Brian Sullivan was holding a skewer in his left hand and a cold beer in his right, having dinner with friends from his department. When he heard his phone ring, he hurriedly put down his beer to check it.

This is almost a universal habit among doctors: the phone is on 24/7, never set to silent, and every little message is checked immediately—just in case it’s something to do with a patient.

He opened the chat with Eric Bennett and was momentarily stunned.

He scrolled up in disbelief, confirming that all his previous chats with Eric Bennett were file transfers or strictly business notifications—there had never been an invitation like this.

But he was sure it was really Eric Bennett, because he had a habit: every message ended with a little yellow smiley face, the kind that looked especially sarcastic, a bit cold and a bit careless.

Because of this, Brian Sullivan often complained in his heart that Eric Bennett was like an old man, not even knowing that among young people, that emoji was used to mock others.

But today, for some reason, a sudden inspiration struck him, and he asked the colleague next to him, “Does Eric Bennett send you guys smileys when he messages you?”

“Nope.” His colleagues all looked baffled.

Brian Sullivan didn’t believe it. He showed them his chat with Eric Bennett, “This kind of little yellow face.”

“Really not, see for yourself if you don’t believe it.” A colleague pretended to pull out their phone.

After confirming that only Brian Sullivan received this special treatment, his colleague’s expression became a bit odd. “Maybe he’s… mocking you?”

“No way,” Brian Sullivan calmly put his phone away, “He only sends me smileys, which means he only wants to smile at me.”

“……” Fine, you’re thick-skinned, you win.

“But why did he ask you out?” a colleague asked curiously. “Is it another fight?”

“Who knows,” Brian Sullivan shrugged, “Ever since last time when Brother Wright treated us and I joked about whether he was pregnant, he hasn’t spoken to me.”

He took a bite of his fried skewer. “Before, when we ran into each other, he’d at least glare at me. Now he just treats me like air. Last time I saw him throwing up in the bathroom, I kindly gave him a pack of tissues, but after using them, he just turned and left without even a thank you. I asked if he had any manners, and he even turned around and glared at me—”

Brian Sullivan looked a bit frustrated. “You guys don’t know, the way he looked at me was like I really got him pregnant, like he wanted to tear me apart the next second.”

His colleague laughed, “Looks like you really pissed off Dr. Bennett when you got that conference spot.”

“He’s so petty. Last year it was their team who went,” Brian Sullivan grumbled inwardly.

A colleague pointed at his phone, “So, are you going to see him?”

Brian Sullivan snorted, “No way. He acts like the Queen herself, always giving orders. Why should I listen to him?” As he spoke, he grabbed another handful of skewers. “Who does he think he is?”

His colleagues were used to their bickering. One clinked glasses with him and said, “Drink up, forget about it.”

The meal was lively and cheerful. By the time it was almost nine, Brian Sullivan finally put down his last empty skewer stick.

He took off his gloves, used some hand sanitizer, took a sip of beer, and after a moment, glanced at his watch.

“Got a date?” a colleague asked. “You’ve checked your phone so many times in just a short while. In such a hurry to leave.”

“Hey, weren’t you and Eric Bennett both chasing after Laura Clark before? Why haven’t we heard anything lately?” someone else gossiped. “Something new going on?”

“No, nothing new,” Brian Sullivan retorted, not explaining further. Outing someone isn’t right, and when his colleagues kept pressing, he just said, “It’s not suitable.”

He was always easygoing and approachable, the kind of person everyone felt close to. Finally breaking free from his colleagues’ questioning, he glanced at his phone and, half to himself and half to the others, said, “Forget it, I’ll go check. What if he really needs something?”

As he spoke, he stood up, and his colleague suddenly realized, “Oh, so it’s Eric Bennett after all! Didn’t you just say you weren’t going?” He teased Brian Sullivan, “You sure change your mind fast.”

Brian Sullivan put on his jacket and sprayed a bit of cologne. “What can I say, I’m just too kind.” He sighed, “How can there be someone as kind as me in this world? Facing Eric Bennett’s dark/evil forces, not only do I refuse to give in, I even step up to help in times of trouble.”

Finally, under the gaze of his colleagues who could barely stand to watch, Brian Sullivan coolly put his hands in his pockets and headed back to Jihua Hospital.