"There's still no news," a man's robust voice sounded, full of energy. "We've checked over a dozen mental hospitals near Jingdi for patients discharged in the past year, and haven't found the person you're talking about."

"Expand the search," a flicker crossed the girl's brow. "Also," she paused for a few seconds, adding, "that person is likely accompanied by a fatty."

"A fatty?" the man replied, then as if realizing something, he chuckled wryly. "That's not exactly special, there are fat people everywhere."

"But this fatty is different," the girl's mind flashed to the fatty's surprising coordination, so at odds with his physique. She took a deep breath, slowly exhaling, and finally said, "This fatty is particularly agile. Keep an eye out."

There was a clear pause on the other end of the line, before a perfunctory agreement.

The man couldn't fathom how agile a mere fatty could be.

The girl hung up the phone.

The large bedroom instantly fell silent again.

Casually tying her scattered hair into a simple ponytail, the girl jumped out of bed, not even bothering with slippers, walking barefoot to the wide French window.

She pulled open the light-colored curtains, and the afternoon sun shone on her face.

The girl squinted slightly, looking out the window.

She was only wearing a thin, wine-red nightgown. Her fair, almost translucent skin, was as someone had described, a delicate body that wasn't exactly shapely.

Standing here, she wasn't worried about being spied on, because all she could see was a vast expanse of blue lake water.

A few minutes later, feeling fully awake, she slowly shifted her gaze. About two meters away, stood an easel, the hardwood floor covered with an entire animal skin of unknown origin.

There was a sketch on the easel.

Simple strokes outlined a young man.

The precise strokes, like those of a sculpture, tested the artist's skill to the extreme. With just a few strokes, the man's spirit leaped off the paper.

His looks were impeccable, the type that rich women would adore.

The girl leaned against the French window, backlit, tilting her head to stare at the painting for a long time, until her eyes gradually turned cold. "Mr. Yin," the girl suddenly smiled, a brilliant burst of radiance, "you better hide well."

......

"Achoo!"

"Achoo!"

The market was bustling with people, and the fatty walked around alone with a shopping basket, looking and touching. By now, he had sneezed no less than 20 times.

Some vendors couldn't help but put on masks when they saw the fatty approaching.

Could the doctor be thinking of me?

That was the fatty's subconscious thought, but then he was frightened by his own subconscious thought. "Holy crap! Why is the doctor the first person I think of?"

The thought was too terrifying. The fatty quickly slung his little basket over his arm and walked away quickly. He thought it was probably because the magnetic field here was a bit off, which affected his thinking.

The vendors were truly terrifying. After the fatty walked away, they all took off their masks in unison, and then loudly hawked their wares.

After wandering around, the fatty first bought some small seafood like shellfish, planning to make spicy stir-fried mixed shellfish, and then bought a fish at the usual place.

This time, buying fish was very smooth. The boss took one look at him, and without any delay, directly scooped out a half-dead fish and said, "Take this one. Don't wait for it to die. I'll sell it to you as if it's already dead."

The fatty was shy, and still wanted to decline slightly. "It's okay," he licked his lips, looked at the boss and said, "I can wait."

"Don't wait, you'll end up stabbing it to death anyway," the boss had already packed the fish while speaking, tossed it on the scale, and handed it directly to the fatty, then earnestly advised, "It's just a fish, it shouldn't have to go through so much."

"Then... thank you, boss."

"Come again after you've enjoyed it."

The fatty carried a basket of small green vegetables, then carried the fish and shellfish in his left hand, and the ribs that the shop had already cut in his right hand, walking on the road back to the studio.

Just him and the doctor, this was enough for a hearty meal.

The sun was setting in the west. He had been wandering outside for a long time, not because the road was long, but because there were too few reasonable merchants in the vegetable market.

They either wouldn't let you bargain, or wouldn't let you pick and choose.

There was also one that didn't accept fake money.

The fatty carefully clutched the fake ten yuan note that Jiang Cheng gave him, thinking about finding a place to throw it away, so as not to harm others by putting it back into circulation.

As a result, he turned a corner and found that he was not far from the studio.

Before he even reached the door of the studio, he saw a sports car pass by him, then slowly back up, and park steadily in a parking space in front of the studio.

Seeing this scene, the fatty immediately trotted over and shouted at the sports car, "This is a private parking space, you're not allowed to park here, please find another place to park!"

Since the fatty first came to this place, he had never seen a car parked here.

Not even temporarily.

Every time Pi Ruan came, he had to look for a parking space for a long time, or have his secretary drive around in circles nearby.

This was the rule.

The doctor told him, the rules were probably set by the doctor.

The purpose... he had too many things to do recently, he didn't have the energy, and he was too lazy to think about it. In short, the doctor said so, so he had to do it, no matter who came.

The fatty frowned, but the person didn't seem to intend to give him face. After parking the car steadily, one of the scissor doors rose up. The next second, the fatty's pupils trembled fiercely.

He saw that the person getting out of the car was a woman.

Not just any woman, but... The fatty searched through all the adjectives that his language teacher had taught him from kindergarten to junior high school, but finally failed.

"Holy crap!" the fatty blurted out.

The woman was wearing a light-colored qipao, with eyebrows like dark ink. The body under the qipao was curvaceous, more would be too plump, less would be too thin. The hand holding the car key was as white as a lotus root, drawing a beautiful arc in the air.

Her long hair was simply tied up, arranged into a bun at the back of her head. A Luo Yun hairpin with a halo of color was inserted into the bun just right, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to the woman.

A faint fragrance permeated the surroundings. The fatty felt like he had returned to the brothels of the Qin Dynasty thousands of years ago, where drunk and dreamlike pleasures called out to beauties in the high towers.

So, the king in the saying "From then on, the king never held court again"... was this happy before he died.

The woman's eyebrows and eyes were like a painting, but there wasn't a trace of seductive charm on her body. The fatty couldn't even imagine what it would be like for the woman to smile, it would probably be soul-stirring.

At this moment, her eyebrows were neither furrowed nor flat, her eyes were neither bright nor obscure, and her face was indifferent as she passed in front of him.

To put it bluntly, the woman directly ignored the fatty who was standing there staring blankly, and then walked along the steps to the front of the studio, without knocking, she entered very naturally.

Pushing the door open casually, as if returning to her own home.