Dr. Chi’s Mission: Seduce Officer Su - Chapter 24.1

Chi Jue had used her lunch break to work overtime seeing patients. By the time she sent off the last patient, the cafeteria had already stopped serving.

The finally quiet office was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

Exhausted, she slumped over the desk to rest, her fingertips lightly brushing the drooping rose. Petals devoid of life’s color lay scattered on the floor, and her soul, filled with unspoken thoughts, withered along with them.

How many days had it been since she’d lost contact with “Little Bear”?

She picked up her phone, her mind wandering. The screen lit up and then went dark, only to light up again, but no matter how she waited, she couldn’t summon a single call or message.

Su Qiao, who had vanished without a trace, seemed as if she had never existed in her life.

It had only been two days, yet it felt like an eternity.

A black hole of emptiness rose in her chest, swallowing her clarity and composure.

The sudden ringing of the phone nearly made her drop it, but the unfamiliar number on the screen extinguished the excitement she’d felt, like rain after a long drought.

“Hello?” Chi Jue steadied her emotions before answering belatedly.

“Dr. Chi, I hope I’m not disturbing your rest? Could you come to the Traffic Police Headquarters at 2 p.m.? I’m not sure if you’ll be free.”

“No problem, I just finished my work and won’t be seeing any patients this afternoon.”

“That’s perfect timing.”

It turned out the Traffic Police Headquarters had completed the preliminary preparations for the shoot.

Chi Jue’s expression softened. She figured she’d likely run into Su Qiao that afternoon. She felt a mix of minor resentment and immense anticipation, resentful that “Little Bear” had been silent all these days, yet eagerly looking forward to every detail of working with her.

If they didn’t have to work overtime filming, perhaps they could even arrange a quiet dinner date in the evening.

At this thought, she couldn’t contain her joy and hurriedly stood up to change her clothes in front of the locker.

Fortunately, she had chosen a light-colored coat when leaving home that morning, so at least she wouldn’t look drab.

Seeing that she had plenty of time, she decided to leave the hospital early.

She planned to buy some afternoon tea desserts to treat everyone. Perhaps during the break, she could enjoy them properly with that person who hadn’t given any news.

…

Chi Jue made a special trip downtown.

The Cantonese tea restaurant she frequented had an excellent reputation. She ordered afternoon tea for multiple people, so much that she needed the staff’s help to carry it to her car.

By the time she drove into the open parking lot of the Traffic Police Headquarters, it was still a quarter to 2 p.m., after all, she was always punctual.

Sitting in the car, she quickly counted the busy staff members. Thankfully, she had prepared enough afternoon tea for everyone, and she let out a relaxed sigh.

The chief of the headquarters took the promotional shoot very seriously and was personally overseeing everything on set.

When he saw Chi Jue arrive and watched her retrieve numerous takeout bags from the trunk, he couldn’t help but chuckle, “We’re already troubling you enough, Dr. Chi. How could we let you go to such expense?”

“You’re too kind, Chief. It’s no trouble at all. Everyone will be busy all afternoon, so this will at least keep hunger at bay.”

Chi Jue considered this nothing more than basic social etiquette. Her response was both appropriate and devoid of any condescension, leaving others with an impression of flawless generosity and thoughtfulness.

“You’ve been very considerate. Thank you.” The chief exchanged pleasantries before calling over a few officers. “You there, come and lend a hand. Everyone gets a treat later, we all have Dr. Chi to thank for this.”

Chi Jue was somewhat distracted. She glanced around, eager to spot Su Qiao quickly but not wanting to appear too obvious, so she turned her attention back to the team leader. “Will Officer Su be filming with me today, or am I filming alone?”

“Of course, you’ll be together. We plan to finish shooting both videos in one go over the next two and a half days, from this afternoon to the day after tomorrow. If you two perform well, we might not even need reshoots later…”

The team leader rambled on, but Chi Jue barely registered his words. Knowing Su Qiao would be there put her somewhat at ease.

In the brief pause between their conversation, Su Qiao strode over, holding her traffic police helmet. The sleek, fluorescent traffic police uniform still accentuated her upright and composed figure, evoking a long-missed sense of nostalgia.

As she passed by, she exchanged a few brief greetings with the team leader, her gaze sweeping over Chi Jue so lightly it felt as if they were complete strangers.

Chi Jue parted her lips, wanting to say something, but the cool, indifferent look in Su Qiao’s eyes silenced her.

In that fleeting moment of eye contact, she detected a deliberate evasion in Su Qiao’s sharp gaze.

An indescribable sense of grievance surged within her. She couldn’t understand what she had done wrong to warrant such inexplicable distance.

“Dr. Chi?” The team leader’s gentle call snapped her out of her distracted state. “The conditions are a bit rough, but we’re using the first-floor conference room as a temporary rest area and makeup room. Why don’t you and Xiao Su go get ready?”

“Mm, okay.” Chi Jue forced a smile, her eyes following the retreating figure that hadn’t paused for her. Unconsciously, her brow furrowed slightly.

From an angle Chi Jue couldn’t see, Su Qiao’s expression was far from relaxed. She could feel the intense gaze from behind, as if trying to break through barriers and peer into her heart.

Struggling against waves of hidden pain, her throat tightened with discomfort. It felt as though her heart had been torn open, leaving a gaping, unfathomable wound.

Feelings of inferiority, cowardice, embarrassment, and timidity, all her negative emotions, were pouring out from that wound.

Trapped in the mental vortex created by An Jiaqin, she had been suffocating as if drowning, every moment of the past two days.

She had to repeatedly remind herself: don’t look back, don’t be moved. Let this relationship begin and end with this uniform.

Pushing open the conference room door, she found the room empty, with no one else in sight. Fearing that being alone together might weaken her resolve, she quickly turned to leave.

But she was met with those somber, resentful eyes and the gentle face that had haunted her dreams repeatedly.

She missed her terribly, yet she was also afraid of her. Thus, affection and avoidance became an unsolvable dilemma.

Chi Jue gave Su Qiao no chance to escape. With all her strength, she shoved her back into the room.

With a sharp slam, the door closed violently.

At the same time, she leaned her back against the door, cutting off the only escape route, while her other hand gripped the collar of “Little Bear” tightly.

“What are you so upset about?” Chi Jue had reverted to her usual cold demeanor. Her question, though softly spoken, landed like a boulder in a calm lake, stirring up endless waves.

Su Qiao swallowed hard, the pain of unshed tears tightening her throat. Unspoken grievances pooled in her eyes.

When she drew close, others saw her as wrong. When she kept her distance, Chi Jue saw her as wrong. It seemed as though her very existence was a colossal mistake.

Thus, Su Qiao, filled with self-doubt, once again lost her radiant spirit and returned to the starting point where she held no expectations for anything.

“Sorry, it must be my fault for making you angry.” The smile she forced at the corners of her lips reverted to its former self, bitter, as if she had swallowed snake gall mixed with coptis, a bitterness almost unbearable.

Chi Jue was also at a loss. Why, when they parted that night, had her little bear been skipping with joy, yet upon meeting again, the light in the bear’s eyes had vanished?

She finally released her grip, smoothing the collar she had crumpled in a gesture of submission, her tone softening slightly: “Do you remember what you promised me that night?”

Unfortunately, Su Qiao’s response did nothing to ease the tension. “I remember, but we didn’t pinky swear or seal it with a stamp.”

“Su Qiao!” Chi Jue took a step back, raising her eyebrows and widening her eyes. This low call seemed an attempt to shake the person before her awake.

She felt an unprecedented panic, unable to find herself in Su Qiao’s eyes, nor the care she had painstakingly built.

“Is there anything else, Dr. Chi? If not, we should familiarize ourselves with the script and lines.” Su Qiao’s businesslike demeanor was irritating, the coldness in her eyes utterly unfamiliar.

Each time she pushed the person she loved a step further away, she endured doubled agony, her heart carved with fine, dense wounds by her own hands.

“Did something happen?” Chi Jue’s confusion caused a tremor in her chest, making her voice quiver. She wanted to get to the bottom of it, to find the root cause of their relationship freezing over.

“Nothing happened, Dr. Chi. Don’t overthink it.” Su Qiao sidestepped her, picking up the prepared script from the table. She couldn’t quite grasp the content, but it was better than staring blankly at each other.

Chi Jue didn’t choose another seat; she insisted on sitting right next to Su Qiao, also picking up the script, but unable to absorb a single word.

The torment of being so close yet worlds apart made the one deeply in love swallow the bitterness of helplessness.

…

Chi Jue: “Keep emergency lanes clear, keep life channels open.”

Su Qiao: “Guard traffic safety, together we create a better tomorrow.”

“Cut!” The director raised his megaphone and called cut, turning to the chief to lavish praise: “The two experts Chief Wang brought in are very professional! They nailed every shot in one take. Let’s wrap for today.”

“Trust my judgment. Wrap it up, everyone, great work.” The chief clapped his hands and beckoned to the two: “Why don’t you grab dinner at the cafeteria before heading out?”

Just as Su Qiao was about to agree, Chi Jue cut in: “Thank you for the kind invitation, but Officer Su and I have dinner plans.”

“Alright then, you young folks always prefer eating out. I won’t keep you after work, go on ahead.”

Watching the chief leave, Su Qiao placed her hands on her hips and turned to Chi Jue. “Making decisions for others without their consent, that doesn’t seem like your style, Dr. Chi.”

Chi Jue’s feigned smile faded as she retorted matter-of-factly, “Then what do you think your behavior today amounts to?”

She gazed intently into Su Qiao’s eyes. In the past, she could easily decipher her thoughts, but today, she couldn’t see through her at all.

“I need to return to the criminal investigation team to handle some matters. Do as you please.” Though Su Qiao didn’t use the word “no” in her reply, the refusal seeped through every word.

“You can’t refuse me.” Chi Jue’s voice was hoarse. She had mustered every ounce of initiative, even feeling that this version of herself was unbecoming, as she had never been one to compromise for the sake of peace.

“Why?”

“You still owe me a meal. You never paid me back.” Chi Jue wanted to sound matter-of-fact, but when she uttered the words “never paid me back”, her hoarseness turned into a trembling sob. She, who knew best how to restrain her emotions, now felt utterly unsteady.

“Then… what about that favor you asked of me to save someone? Does that count as owing a debt?”

“Of course it does. I’ll treat you to a meal another day, and I hope you’ll honor me with your presence… It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“How much of a pleasure?”

“Well… as pleased as if I’d stumbled upon a hundred pounds of good luck.”

That meal owed as a favor, that spicy regional dish they could never seem to share, suddenly surged to the forefront of her mind, as if straining with all its might to mend a thread of fate on the verge of snapping.

Su Qiao was momentarily stunned. Seeing the faint redness welling at the corners of Dr. Chi’s eyes, she grew flustered and began inwardly berating herself once more.

“With your pitiful monthly salary, how many meals could you even afford to treat A-Jue to? You’d probably have to pay in installments just to buy her an entry-level luxury brand item.”

An Jiaqin’s timely taunt resurfaced in her mind, and the loosened door to her heart was shoved back and forth by concern and cowardice.

She let out a heavy sigh, the brightness in her eyes completely extinguished. “I really have no appetite. Let’s find another time.” The inferiority complex entrenched deep in her soul waved its flag and shouted, pushing the one her heart yearned for further and further away.

Once again, the response was a rejection. Chi Jue was at a loss.