"Yunhua!?"
I spin around, heart punching my ribs—ready to lie, cry, or throw a test tube.
It's Zhang Yuyu.
I let out a sharp breath and force a smile, hand instinctively clutching the pocket with Jiang Yu's blood sample. "Oh—Yuyu! Hey!"
She rushes in and pulls me into a tight hug before I can brace myself.
"Aww, my poor Yunhua…" She cups the back of my head like I'm a kicked puppy. "That bastard Tang rejected you, huh? But don't let that get you down, okay babe?"
I awkwardly pat her back with one hand, the other still glued to my pocket. Yeah, the heartbreak's bad, Yuyu—but not as bad as hiding alien biology in your lab coat like it's a stolen meat bun.
She pulls back and squints at me. "What are you doing here so early, Yunhua?"
I let out a nervous laugh, tugging my lab coat straight. "Ah—just, y'know. Got bored at home. All alone. So I came early."
Smooth. Totally convincing. Definitely not hiding alien goo in my pocket while dodging questions like a guilty gremlin.
Yuyu tilts her head. "Since when do you come early? You once said 9 AM was 'aggressively rude.'"
I cough. "Character development?"
She narrows her eyes. I give her my best innocent smile and mentally pray she doesn't ask to see my workstation.
"Understandable. Heartbreak leads to character development," she says, patting my shoulder like I'm a war survivor.
"Yeah… I guess. Haha..." I chuckle awkwardly, clutching the edge of the table like it's a lifeline.
She glances around. "You didn't even make coffee. You must be depressed."
I laugh louder than necessary. "Right? Tragic."
Meanwhile, the blood sample in my pocket feels like it's burning a hole through my coat.
"Let's have coffee!" she chirps, already heading for the machine.
"Yeah, sure!" I follow her with what I hope is a normal face.
She grabs two mugs. "By the way, why are you early today, Yuyu?"
"Oh, right," she says, flicking her hair. "You were on leave yesterday, so I had to come in early to finish all the pending work. As usual, your mess is my mess."
"Haha… lucky you," I mutter.
She shoots me a playful glare. "One day I'm charging you rent for using my sanity."
If only she knew what real mess I'm hiding in my pocket right now.
"So Yuyu, did you, like… get in touch with Mr. Xian?"
She stirs her coffee, shaking her head. "Oh, not yet. He's been totally MIA since that whole mountain incident."
"Seriously?" I try to sound casual, but my grip tightens on the mug. "Still no word?"
"Nope. Like he just vanished off the grid." She sips. "Kinda spooky, huh?"
Yeah. Spooky doesn't even cover it.
"You know, Yunhua," Yuyu leans closer, lowering her voice a bit, "yesterday Mr. Wang, Mr. Li, and Mr. Liu got reassigned. Out of nowhere."
I blink. "What? But they're already heading some of the biggest projects here. They're like... the backbone of the whole research center!"
"Exactly," she says, eyes narrowing. "That's what makes it all super sus."
"Damn…" I mutter, staring blankly at my half-empty coffee cup. "Maybe things are more serious than I thought."
My knee bounces under the table. What do I do now? I can't keep Jiang hidden forever. What if someone finds out before I even get to Mr. Xian?
Forget the Nobel Prize. Forget making history in the name of science.
At this rate, the only history I'll make is in the criminal records. First human ever charged with illegal alien harboring. Literally.
Yuyu sips her coffee, eyebrows raised. "Hmm... Honestly? Feels like a cover-up. Like something big went down, and now they're trying to sweep it under the rug. Fast."
She leans in a little. "The fact that even Mr. Xian vanished right after? And those three senior researchers got reassigned overnight? That's not just a coincidence, babe."
I nod slowly, heart thudding. "Right…"
I clutch my cup a little tighter. Crap. What the hell did Jiang Yu really bring with him when he crash-landed?
"Yunhua," Yuyu squints at me. "You sure you're okay? You look pale."
"Haha—probably just need more sleep," I lie, badly.
She hums, unconvinced. "Or less drama."
If only she knew.
"Haha, yeah… my life is being real drama, I guess," I mutter, stirring my coffee like it owes me rent.
Yuyu giggles and pats my hand. "You poor thing. Forget that idiot Tang. I'll introduce you to my cousin brother—he's single, rich, and has actual emotional intelligence."
I snort. "Haha, maybe I'll pass."
She raises an eyebrow. "You sure? He has abs. Like, visible ones."
"Tempting. But I think I'm still traumatized by hot guys right now."
We both laugh, and I stand up, stretching. "C'mon, let's get to work. I'll help you finish the pending stuff."
Yuyu nudges me with her shoulder. "Yeah? It's yours in the first place."
"Exactly. I'm being noble. Like a tragic protagonist doing her job after getting emotionally wrecked."
"Pfft, whatever helps you cope."
We walk off toward the lab hallway—her cheerfully, me... mentally bracing for the double life I'm now stuck living.
I slide the blood sample tubes into the back of my desk drawer just as Yuyu turns to grab some files.
Smooth. Natural. Nothing suspicious about stashing alien fluids at 8:30 a.m.
I clear my throat and move beside her, picking up a folder like I've been a productive citizen all morning.
"Alright, where do we start?" I ask, forcing a smile.
Yuyu hands me a stack of forms. "Data cross-check. The system was glitching yesterday, so everything needs a second look."
"Perfect," I mutter, flipping one open. "Mindless, repetitive—just what I need to keep from spiraling into existential panic."
She doesn't hear me. Or maybe she's just used to it by now.
.
.
.
.
Time slips by in a blur of paperwork, half-broken machines, and people shouting across the lab like it's a fish market.
By 10 a.m., the place is a full circus. Everyone's buzzing with theories, nerves, and barely functioning coffee addictions. The absence of the four senior researchers—Mr. Wang, Mr. Li, Mr. Liu, and Mr. Xian—feels like someone yanked the spine out of the center. No one says it out loud, but we're all walking a little stiffer, glancing over our shoulders a little more often.
Somehow—some miraculous, cursed how—I end up being the unofficial crisis manager.
"Yunhua, can you check the calibration?"
"Yunhua, this terminal froze again."
"Yunhua, do we have clearance to rerun the thermal resonance scans?"
I'm one lab coat away from setting up a tent and declaring sovereignty.
I wipe sweat from my forehead, drop a stack of files on the desk, and sigh.
"I need a raise. Or at least a personal fan. Or a clone. Preferably all three."
Yuyu laughs somewhere behind me. "You're doing amazing, sweetie!"
"Tell that to my back pain and crushed hopes," I mutter, but I roll my sleeves up and keep going. Because if I stop, even for a second, I might start thinking again—and that's dangerous.
I glance at the clock. Still hours until evening. I groan inwardly, massaging my temple.
I might have to wait until late night again—when everyone finally packs up and leaves—just to run the next test on Jiang's blood. Great. Fantastic. My career's one top-secret experiment away from greatness, and I'm stuck babysitting the entire lab.
And speaking of babysitting...
I swallow a lump of dread. Jiang is alone at home.
No supervision. No restrictions. Just an over-curious alien with access to TV and a basic understanding of "don't burn the house down."
What if he thinks microwaving a fork is part of "good boyfriend duties"?
I glance around the lab—everyone's slow, fumbling, distracted. We're all running on half a brain cell now that the seniors are gone. It's chaos in slow motion.
And if this pace keeps up? Overtime. For everyone.
Overtime means people lingering around.
Lingering means I can't run my damn test.
I let out a tiny, helpless scream into my palm.
"Yunhua, are you okay?" Yuyu asks behind me.
I turn, smiling like a broken vending machine. "Peachy. Absolutely peachy."
"Dr. Yunhua, about these reports—"
"De Yunhua, our team needs the bacterial culture records from—"
"Can you check the mutation data from yesterday's—"
Ughhh.
I slam a report folder on the desk, barely holding back a dramatic scream. My brain is mush, my back is stiff, and my face feels like it's been slapped by 300 questions since morning.
.
.
.
.
I glance at the wall clock. 7:46 PM.
Already? When did the sun set? When did my soul leave my body?
The day whooshed by in a blur of reports, requests, and chaos. Feels like I've aged five years and still haven't touched my work.
I drop into my chair and mutter, "If one more person says my name, I'm legally changing it to 'Do Not Disturb.'"
My phone buzzes. I groan and swipe to answer without checking.
"Hello?"
"Dr. Yunhua, this is NSRO. You have an online meeting with Mr. Shang regarding the recent supernova signal from—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Eight PM. Thanks for the reminder."
I hang up, toss my phone face-down on the desk, and let out the longest, most exhausted sigh of the century.
Seriously. It sucks to be part of both the National Space Research Organization and the Biological Research Center. Double duty, double stress. And of course, because both are under the same government agency, they just have to share the same board of directors. Same people, same eyes watching everything I do.
Great. I'm basically working two full-time jobs with one full-time paycheck and zero full-time sanity.
"Dr. Yunhua, about the experiment on the rat from test B09—"
I shoot the poor guy a look so sharp it could slice steel.
"Stop. I have a meeting in a few minutes. Do not let anyone come in here. Got it?"
He flinches like I just smacked him with a clipboard. "Oh—okay! Sorry!"
I close the door firmly behind him and lock it. My heart's already thudding. I've got barely five minutes before the meeting starts, and I still haven't touched Jiang's sample again. One mistake and I'm toast.
I exhale through my nose and turn back to my desk. Showtime.
.
.
.
.
A very long meeting. Till 9:30.
I slump forward in my chair the moment the screen goes dark. My back hurts. My brain feels like it got stir-fried in garlic oil. I rub my face and groan into my palms.
"Okay… maybe now most of them have gone," I mumble, dragging myself to the door. I crack it open, peek outside—
And freeze.
Everyone is still here.
What the actual—?!
"Dr. Yunhua, about this—" someone starts, holding a chart like it's a death warrant.
"Nope. Not now. Just—nope."
I scan the room. "Where's Yuyu?"
"Oh dear, here she is!" someone calls.
I spot her halfway across the lab, juggling fifteen files and barking instructions like a general in a very nerdy war.
Great. She's swamped too.
I sigh into the ceiling. "Fantastic. It's overtime tonight, I guess."
.
.
.
Past 10:40. My legs are about to give up. My spine's filing for divorce.
"Okay everyone," I call out, waving a tired hand, "that's it for today. Let's head home—I'm dying if I stand one more minute here."
"Aww, my poor baby," Yuyu pouts as she starts sorting the last batch of files.
Around us, the others begin wrapping up—shutting down equipment, stacking papers, muttering their goodbyes.
Yeah. Definitely not running tests on that blood tonight. My body's on strike, my brain's in sleep mode, and I'm already halfway to a breakdown just wondering what that idiot might be doing at home.
Please let the furniture still be intact.
Everyone finishes packing up, voices dropping to murmurs and yawns. I quietly slide the blood sample tubes back into my bag pocket when no one's looking.
"Less go, Yunhua!" Yuyu grins, slinging her tote over her shoulder.
"Yeah, less go." I stretch my arms with a sigh, following her out.
"It was a long day, huh?" she says as we walk down the corridor.
"Yeah, right? Everyone's just so freaking lost without our seniors to guide us."
"Lol, fr. Without them, it's a real mess. I guess we now know who really held this place together."
No kidding. And now, that mess is my responsibility… along with hiding a shapeshifting alien in my apartment. Great.
"Ah, btw Yuyu… can I ask for something?"
She blinks at me, curious. "Oh yeah, whatever you say, dear. Should I give you my heart, my princess?"
I snort. "Haha, no—nothing that dramatic. Just… some money to borrow, maybe. You see, all those arrangements for the proposal kind of drained my savings and, uh, some stuff happened, and now I'm running out of groceries and basic stuff."
Yuyu gasps like I just said I haven't eaten in days. "Oh, that's it? I'll transfer you online, okay?"
I smile, almost sheepish. "Oh… thanks, dear."
God bless this overdramatic sugar mommy of a best friend.
.
.
.
.
The train ride is a blur of flickering lights and aching feet. Grocery bags dig into my fingers as I trudge through the evening crowds. Finally, I'm back in front of my apartment building, praying to every higher power that Jiang hasn't burned the place down or—God forbid—eaten my curtains.
I unlock the door, mentally preparing myself to see something horrifying. Maybe he's stuck to the ceiling. Maybe he's turned the TV into a spaceship. Who knows.
But the moment the door swings open—
Thump thump thump thump
He rushes up like an overexcited golden retriever.
"Yunhua! Welcome back! I missed you!"
I blink. He's grinning wide, antenna twitching, eyes sparkling like I'm the best part of his day.
Oh no.
He's been watching more C-dramas, hasn't he?
I step in slowly, eyes scanning the apartment for signs of chaos. "Uh… hi?"
Nothing broken. Nothing on fire.
Too quiet.
This is even more suspicious.
He tilts his head, eyes shining with expectation. "I do what you said. Can we kiss?"
"No."
His face droops slightly. "But in TV, girlfriend and boyfriend—"
"I said no."
A beat of silence. Then, perking up again, he leans closer, antenna flicking. "Then pat my head. Like morning!"
I sigh and reach out, gently patting his head. His antenna lights up in blissful response.
"I'm home," I mutter, kicking off my shoes and dragging the grocery bags to the kitchen.
Behind me, he hums contently, still crouched like a dog waiting for more pats.
I think I've adopted a boyfriend. Or a puppy. Or both.