My Secretary is a Little Sweet

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The doctor in charge of Jing Zhi’s diet is a dark-haired Asian girl with black eyes. She wears a full set of protective masks and plastic gloves on her hands. She seems to be afraid of being infected.

She handed the hot water to Jing Zhi and said in fluent English: "I haven't seen a virus that is more powerful than the virus in your body. Eat it, you can't die."

Her old-fashioned tone makes Jing Zhi doubt her age.

"How old are you?"

The girl lied without blinking: "It's almost forty."

Jing Zhi didn't believe it. She stepped forward and stared at her transparent protective mask with a hard look: "You are not forty, are you fourteen?"

"Fourteen? I am an experienced doctor in the research institute. Virus culture, bacterial reproduction, human stem cell transplantation. What can I do? Fourteen If I can learn so much, I am the world's first genius!"

Jing Zhi still didn't believe it.

Let's not talk about the doctor's young face, just listen to her voice and know that she must not be forty years old.

However, there is nothing else in the research institute, that is, there are many old monsters.

In order to prolong life and delay aging, they have developed a variety of drugs that can completely maintain their appearance when they are young.

The doctor in charge of his diet may not really be a teenager, but he is definitely not forty.

Forty-year-old woman, no matter how to use botulinum toxin and hyaluronic acid, and how to take anti-aging drugs, the skin condition cannot be the same as that of teenage girls.

Jing Zhi is not really concerned about the age of this doctor, he does not care about it at all.

Anyway, it is possible that the doctor will be infected with the virus and die directly in a few days.

Jing Zhi was a bit strange when he thought of this.

The doctor in front of him seems to have been in charge of his diet for more than a year. Why hasn't he died yet?

The person who took care of him closely would basically be quickly killed by him in a rage. This little doctor was not dead, was his life too great?

Forget it, don't think about it, and it's not surprising that there are occasionally a long time to live. Peter has been with him all the time, it's been several years, and he hasn't died.

He was eating a turkey that was delicious and full of aroma, while enjoying the snow scene and filling his stomach. He took a sip of water and felt very satisfied.

This is the happiest Christmas he has ever had in six years!

Jing Zhi stupidly eliminated a huge turkey, and ate two apples and two oranges.

He thought that it was the group of perverted conscience who discovered it, so he enjoyed a meal, but he did not know how much Jing Rui spent to let him live in a room with a window, and to let him eat these things. How much manpower was mobilized.

After eating and drinking, Jing Zhi lay lazily back on the bed, letting the little doctor reconnect all kinds of instruments for him, and actively extended her left hand to her to let her insert an infusion needle.

He was holding an orange in his right hand and was watching the doctor's skillful injections. He couldn't help asking: "What's your name? Have you been taking care of me before?"

The research projects in the institute are extremely dangerous, so most of the time doctors wear large masks and white doctor hats, only showing two eyes.

The difficulty of recognizing a person with eyes alone is not so high, so Jing Zhi basically cannot remember a person, he remembers people by voice.

He remembered the doctor's voice, but he never saw her full picture.

The girl was silent for a while, and when Jing Zhi thought she would not answer, she said in Chinese: "My name is Shu Yin."

Jing Zhi was surprised: "Shade? What a strange name."

He inadvertently spoke Chinese, and he didn't even realize how natural he was when he said this sentence.

"Comfortable comfort, musical sound."

Shu Yin's faint explanation seems to be no surprise that Jing Zhi can speak Chinese.

She didn't seem to be talking to Jing Zhiduo at all. She packed up her things and pushed the dining car out.

"Hello, don't you have an English name?"

Shu Yin's footsteps slightly: "Cherry, you can call me something."

After she finished speaking, she pushed the dining car and left, leaving Jing Zhi alone to meditate: "When did I learn Chinese?"

Jing Zhi was gnawing at the orange in distress. When he chewed halfway, an extremely familiar feeling suddenly appeared in his mind.

He always felt as if someone had taught him how to eat oranges before.

It seems that it is wrong to eat it with the skin together?

Jing Zhi stared blankly at the half of the orange left in his hand. Where did the man who had peeled the orange peel go?

He spread his left palm and looked at the two pale blue writings on his palm, and tears shed inexplicably.

He cried and ate the oranges, then lay on the bed with one orange left, ready to sleep.

But he accidentally glanced at it, and found that small Chinese characters were carved on the skin at the bottom of the orange!

The handwriting is engraved with a sharp blade, which is not very obvious, but the Chinese characters above can still be seen clearly when you look closely:

Fool, are you not skinned again?

Jing Zhi suddenly had no drowsiness, and suddenly sat up from the bed, the infusion needle was pulled off for the second time, and the instruments attached to him were rattled by him!

brother!

Jing Zhi is ecstatic!

I don't know why, he intuitively thought that the person who wrote the lettering was his brother!

My brother is by his side!

Jing Zhi sat on the bed and laughed silently.

It seems that his vague memory is not wrong, he has an older brother, and his older brother is still alive!

Brother knows that he is here, every time he used his risk to help him, is he always helping his brother? Wasn't it the brother who caught him from the bottom of the sea last night?

Like a child, he held the orange tightly in his arms, weeping low and smirking.

...

Jing Rui, dressed in a black killer suit, knelt in front of a narrow glass window and observed his kill target through a sniper mirror.

The curtains in the room were all drawn, dark and dim, and more and more dignified.

He knelt there, motionless, like a sculpture.

After waiting for two hours and forty-seven minutes, the target finally appeared in a position suitable for shooting.

With a "bang" shot, the bullet passed through a small hole already dug in the glass in the room, quickly penetrated the floor-to-ceiling windows of the villa opposite, and shot into the chest of a man, breaking his heart.

With one blow, Jing Rui quickly collected his equipment and was ready to leave.

A slight "ding" sound came from the wireless headset. He took out his phone to unlock it, and then saw a new message on it:

Boss, oranges have been delivered, his Christmas is very happy, now crying.

Jing Rui's indifferent face suddenly showed a faint smile, melting all the ice this winter.