Chapter 1- Destiny's Reunion

At six in the morning, sparrows flapping their wings on the telephone pole shattered the tranquility at the alley's entrance. Following a rainstorm the previous night, flowers lay scattered, resembling a spilled honey jar, spread across the damp ground.

Moisture seeped in through the cracks in the window. Emily lay slumped over her desk, her shoulders shivering involuntarily. She struggled to lift her head, rubbing her face to wake herself up.

The previous day had been grueling: two surgeries and an overnight shift had left Emily exhausted. Her long, dark eyelashes framed eyes that bore the unmistakable signs of weariness.

In the bathroom, she swished mint-flavored mouthwash and splashed cold water on her face, hoping to revive herself. By 7:50, the department began to fill with staff, exchanging morning greetings. Emily quickly finished a croissant, her black coffee placed beside her. Someone switched it out for a bottle of milk.

Emily looked up to see a new intern, a young man scratching his head awkwardly. "Dr. Emily, too much coffee isn't good for you."

"Thank you," Emily smiled, glancing at the time. "Let's go. It's time for rounds."

Most patients in the ward preferred Emily for rounds. She was gentle, patient, and always ready to listen to their complaints. A group of interns followed her as she moved from room to room, her coat tail fluttering, her blue badge reading: Emily, Surgeon at Ren Care Hospital.

When she reached a young girl who had recently had her appendix removed, Emily gave extra instructions, emphasizing rest and dietary restrictions.

The young girl, who had regained her energy soon after the surgery, complained about the bland food. "Dr. Emily, can I have some milk tea?" she asked cautiously, her large eyes pleading.

Emily paused her pen on the blue folder and looked up to meet the hopeful gaze. She relented, "Just a little."

"But I prefer bubble tea," the girl pouted.

"..." The interns behind Emily stifled their laughter. Emily, expressionless, spoke with a hint of cruelty in her voice, "Now you can't have even a little."

Realizing her mistake too late, the girl lamented, "I'm sorry, Doctor!"

After rounds, Emily pocketed her hands and headed back to her office. In the corridor, she encountered her mentor and the department head, Dr. Brown.

"Just finished rounds, Emily?" he asked.

"Yes," Emily nodded, noticing Dr. Brown seemed to have something to say. She asked proactively, "Is there something you need, Dr. Brown?"

"You've been really busy lately, the hardest-working in the department, just like I was at your age," Dr. Brown smiled warmly. "But you need to balance work and rest. Your mother even called me to discuss your personal life."

Emily was stunned. She hadn't expected her refusals to attend matchmaking events to lead her mother to involve her mentor. Calming herself, she replied, "Do you know what my mom's midlife dream is?"

"What?"

"To become a matchmaker, starting with me," Emily pointed to herself innocently.

"You kids," Dr. Brown chuckled, shaking his head. He suddenly changed the topic, "There's a nice young man in my residential area, good conditions..."

Emily quickly interrupted, "Dr. Brown, do I smell smoke on you? Quite strong, actually."

Everyone at Ren Care Hospital knew Dr. Brown was a skilled and authoritative surgeon but also famously afraid of his wife. Dr. Brown's wife, the head pediatric nurse, often came to check on him. Whenever she smelled smoke on him, she threatened to break his hands if not for his life-saving skills.

"I haven't had a chance to smoke today. Maybe it's from a patient's family," Dr. Brown sniffed his collar, panic evident on his face. "Let's not talk about it. I need to wash up."

After Dr. Brown left, Emily's shift finally ended at eleven. She went home for a nap, sleeping deeply until nightfall. Neon lights flickered in the distance as she woke.

She stared blankly for a moment, then got up to close the window. She connected her phone to the Bluetooth speaker, playing a loud rock song, and relaxed on a massage mat.

Most people found the mat painful, but to Emily, it was a great stress reliever. Her phone chimed, and sweating, she sat on the mat to check it.

Her mother had sent a string of messages, urging her to go on a date.

Mom: [This guy is really good, two years older than you, a successful lawyer, and handsome. The introducer said he's responsible and excellent.]

Mom: [Meet him tomorrow? No excuses, I know you're not on duty tomorrow night.]

Mom sent a contact card. Emily opened the profile picture, complaining: [This pose with crossed arms looks more like a salesman than a success guru.]

Seeing Emily dodging the topic, her mother grew frustrated. She sent a series of voice messages, showing her displeasure.

Mom: [You're 27 now, almost an old maid. How can you be so relaxed?]

Emily replied: [Mom, I don't want to get married yet.]

At least, that's how she felt now. Being alone was carefree, and with her busy job, she had no energy for relationships.

Mom: [Then what do you want to do?]

Before Emily could reply, another message came through.

Mom: [Do you want to become a nun?]

Emily was about to reply with a smile when her phone screen suddenly lit up with a notification from a popular forum. She clicked on it and, even after all these years, saw that her old post was still getting likes and responses.

The question was: "During your school days, what was the funniest thing you did during a secret crush?"

On a whim, Emily had anonymously replied at the time:

"In my second year of high school, a foreign movie was released that I really liked, so much so that I bought some merchandise—a blue T-shirt.

On the first day I wore it to class, I suddenly noticed that he was also wearing a blue T-shirt. Even though his was just a plain blue T-shirt, my heart raced, secretly thinking it was a couple's outfit.

Maybe God saw how hard my secret crush was and sent me this sweet coincidence as a gift.

From then on, I often wore that shirt. I would even fantasize the night before, wondering if he would also wear a blue T-shirt the next day. He sat in the second-to-last row, and I sat in the second row from the front. Every morning during the first class, to get a glimpse of him, I would deliberately enter through the back door, pretending to walk by him casually. Occasionally, I would catch a glimpse of him resting lazily on his arms, his hair messy, and the blue shadow of his slender shoulder blades, which would make my heart race and inexplicably happy for the entire day.

Eventually, I found out that his girlfriend had casually bought that T-shirt for $9.50 while shopping at the supermarket. Such a carefree guy, yet he didn't mind wearing it every day.

I suddenly woke up, realizing one thing: he might never see me."

Emily's post had gained the most likes, with many people replying under it: "Not funny at all, I feel so sad for you. Hug you, girl."

Emily was stunned, re-reading her old reply and just about to hide it when a new response popped up: "Do you still like him now?"

A bitter feeling deepened in her eyes. Sitting on the acupressure mat, Emily felt a pervasive ache throughout her body, making it hard to breathe.

Emily didn't reply, exited the app, and responded to her mom: [Okay.]

The next evening, Emily dressed up a bit and arrived at the restaurant as per her mom's instructions. Her date, William, was already there waiting.

William worked at a law firm and looked even better in person than in the photo Emily had seen. His features were decent, and he was polite.

They had a pleasant conversation, and after dinner, William suggested they take a walk nearby. Emily thought about it; since she was out on a blind date, there was no need to be shy, so she nodded.

At ten o'clock, the moonlight was bright. Emily and William walked side by side, exchanging occasional comments. The atmosphere was comfortable.

In the night market, blue and red awnings lined up, and eggplants were sizzling on the grill. The vendor sprinkled cumin, making the oil sizzle. Nearby, mackerel was turning golden brown, its aroma wafting through the air.

Light bulbs hung overhead, with fine dust floating around them, casting a dim glow.

Matthew brought a plate of skewers to his friend John and sat down. They had a few drinks and started chatting intermittently. John handed Matt a beef skewer, speaking cautiously, "Boss, don't feel too pressured. This time... just take it as a break."

Matt, biting into a skewer, lifted his eyes at John's words and chuckled, "What pressure? I'm fine."

"Good to hear." John sighed in relief.

Matt sat opposite John, carelessly resting his foot on the crossbar under the table. He had just sat down for a bit, already catching the attention of several girls at nearby tables.

He didn't even bother lifting his eyelids, a cigarette between his fingers, the smoke rising slowly, giving him a rebellious yet cool demeanor.

John, feeling proud and a bit tipsy, started rambling, "Boss, I have to say, being a pilot these past years, flying all over the world, I've never really noticed. But if there's a place with a lot of beauties, it's still our city."

"Oh, look at those long legs," John exclaimed.

Matt didn't even look, sneering, "Keep staring, and I'll tell your girlfriend."

John sulkily withdrew his gaze, but soon his eyes lit up, nudging Matt's arm, "Boss, look over there. There's a pretty one, definitely looks like she's from the South."

Hearing "South," Matt instinctively looked up, his dark eyes scanning the area, and then he froze. She indeed had the typical Southern look, fair skin, almond-shaped eyes, and she wore a beige knit dress with thin straps, revealing her delicate shoulders.

"Ah, she's got a boyfriend, but they look like they just met, probably on a blind date. They both have a refined vibe, quite a match," John commented.

As John spoke, the air around them seemed to chill. He felt uneasy and glanced sideways, seeing Matt break a bamboo skewer in his hand without saying a word.

Emily, unaware of the commotion, walked alongside William through the night market. Just as they were about to reach the end, they heard some commotion.

An elderly lady selling sweet soup was being harassed by a few drunken thugs who were about to smash her stall, claiming it tasted terrible. Emily wasn't one to meddle, but the old lady's desperate pleas sounded just like her grandmother's.

Emily was about to step in when William pulled her back, speaking shrewdly, "You shouldn't get involved. If the thugs or the old lady extort you, it'll be a mess."

"I like being extorted," Emily smirked, looking at William's hand on her arm. He awkwardly let go.

The lead thug pushed the old lady to the ground. Emily walked over to help her up, her voice calm, "How much? I'll pay."

The red-haired thug's eyes lit up at the sight of Emily. He placed his hands on her exposed shoulder, "Since you're pleading, let's forget it. Join us for a drink."

"Don't… don't mess around. I'm a lawyer... you, you, you let go..." William stuttered, pushing up his glasses, too nervous to articulate properly.

Seeing William was a coward, the thugs waved their iron rods, "What? Wanna fight?"

William took a step back, glanced at Emily, and then, to her disbelief, he bit his lip and ran off.

The thug's hand lingered on Emily's shoulder, even stroking it. But within a second, Emily twisted his wrist, making a loud cracking sound.

"Ow, you—" The red-haired thug winced in pain, his face darkening. He raised his palm, about to slap her when suddenly, a long, well-defined hand appeared out of nowhere and intercepted the thug's fist.

It was Matt.

"I thought it was a woman's hand, so soft and weak," Matt's voice was taunting, utterly unfazed.

His words were provocative, and the thug swung with his other hand. Matt sidestepped, grabbed the thug's arm, and threw him to the ground with a punch, making him cry out in pain.

A fight broke out quickly.

Emily knelt down, helped the old lady gather her things, and silently sent her away.

The brawl ended as swiftly as it began, with Matt single-handedly taking down the four thugs. They fled in disarray. Matt stood under the streetlight, his long shadow stretching out to her.

Emily raised her eyes to look at Matt closely.

Matt was wearing a flight jacket, with four stripes on his shoulder, standing straight with an imposing presence. He had single eyelids, extremely short hair, and sharp, well-defined side profiles with a fresh red scratch on his chin. His piercing dark eyes were fixated on her.

Under Matt's gaze, Emily felt her heart tighten and subconsciously took a step back. At that moment, a cool breeze blew, lifting the leaves and a trash bag on the roadside into the air.

Seeing her familiar look, Matt sneered, his tongue pressing against his left cheek.

He turned his head to spit out a blood-tinged saliva into a trash can, then knocked a cigarette out of the pack. With his slender fingers, he twirled the cigarette butt, bent down to bite the cigarette, and with a "click" of the silver lighter, he lit it.

He still had that careless, nonchalant demeanor.

He was waiting for Emily to speak.

Emily averted her eyes, her tone unexpectedly distant: "Thanks for tonight. I'll be going now."

Even Emily was surprised by her reaction. She had imagined countless scenarios of them meeting again, but she hadn't expected they would skip even the small talk when it finally happened.

Just as Emily turned to leave, Matt took a step closer. The smell of tobacco on him was strong, his imposing aura making it hard for her to move.

From the ground, his shadow quickly encompassed her. His eyelashes drooped, casting a faint shadow under the streetlight as he spoke through gritted teeth: "Are you on a blind date?"