You Are the Code of My Heartbeat

Heartbeat Compilation

Cheng Jian’s smartwatch powered off at 6:15 AM.

This was the first time in three years. The final notification before battery death read:

「Prolonged Abnormal Status Over 12 Hours — Recommend Medical Checkup」

She removed the device that had accompanied her for years, placing it deep inside a drawer — where seven Post-its of different eras already lay. From the earliest 「Quiet Switch Keys Work Great」 to last week’s 「Honey Pomelo Tea In Thermos」.

On the nightstand sat a newly purchased analog watch — mechanical hands ticking quietly without vibration alerts. Beside it rested Lu Wan’s strawberry lip balm left carelessly yesterday, its cap loose — sweet scent drifting faintly through morning light.

Water sounds came from the bathroom. Steam fogged the frosted glass, vaguely outlining Lu Wan’s silhouette humming songs. Cheng Jian fastened the ECG cufflinks — silver bases now bearing several tiny scratches from last week when Lu Wan hugged her neck in the kitchen, accidentally scraping with her nails.

"Cheng Jian!" Water stopped running. Lu Wan’s voice echoed. "Bring me pajamas!"

Cheng Jian retrieved the sunflower-print cotton set from the closet. Pausing at the bathroom door, she hesitated. A c***k revealed escaping heat carrying citrus-scented shower gel. Lu Wan’s wet hand extended through the gap — wrist droplets sliding down her inner forearm, leaving a glittering trail.

"Thanks." Her fingertips brushed Cheng Jian’s palm while taking the clothes — like charged wind gusts.

Cheng Jian examined her own palm, still tingling subtly. Three months ago, such contact would’ve triggered Tier-3 warnings in her heart monitor; now she merely rubbed it against her pant seam — as if savoring familiar code.

---

In the office breakroom, Cheng Jian met the new intern.

"Director Cheng!" The girl nervously clutched her coffee cup. "I mean… Technical proposal sent to your email."

Cheng Jian nodded, eyes landing on the intern’s badge — a ponytailed photo with stiff smile, reminding her strongly of her own rookie days.

"Use recursion to optimize query efficiency," she suddenly said. "Saves 30% resources versus nested loops."

The intern widened her eyes. "How did you know I’m working on this module?"

Cheng Jian unconsciously touched her cufflink. "Experience."

Leaving the breakroom, she received Lu Wan’s message:

「New office awesome! Windowsill fits succulents!」

Attached image showed greenery-filled sill — corner revealing half-finished line art on an easel: a shirt-clad figure with metallic-cuffed sleeves.

Cheng Jian zoomed in — catching the photographer’s reflection in window glass: Lu Wan holding phone, messy hair framing smiling lips curved perfectly around that small tiger tooth.

She saved the picture into `/sunshine/` album — maintaining this habit for 1 year and 4 months, shifting from deliberate archiving to near-conditioned reflex.

---

On the subway home, Cheng Jian noticed someone reading Clean Code.

Color-coded tabs marked pages, corners folded, scribbled notes filling the title page — identical to her own copy. Suddenly recalling its current location: third shelf in the living room bookcase, squeezed between Watercolor Techniques Manual and Plant Atlas. Its spine bore crayon scratches from last Christmas — when Lu Wan accidentally smeared it drawing holiday cards.

Rain began as she exited the station. Standing under shelter, Cheng Jian pulled out a foldable umbrella — deep blue, spacious enough for two. Orange ribbon wrapped the handle — tied by Lu Wan saying, "So we won’t mix it up with others’."

At the convenience store counter, she instinctively grabbed two pudding cups.

"Cheng Jian!"

Familiar voice called from behind. Turning around, Cheng Jian saw Lu Wan jogging toward her, raindrops clinging to her hair, clutching newly bought art supplies in her arms.

"I knew you’d come here," Lu Wan panted, leaning close. "Today has mango special edition!"

Her lashes held water droplets glowing like stars under fluorescent lights. Cheng Jian brushed them away, knuckles grazing Lu Wan’s cheekbone — flushed pink from running.

"Bought already." Cheng Jian lifted the shopping bag.

Lu Wan’s eyes curved moon-shaped. "Knew it."

Under the umbrella walking home, their shoulders touched — left side meeting right. Fabric friction whispered softly, like encrypted communication signals.

---

Late at night, Cheng Jian sorted old files in her study.

At the drawer bottom lay an encrypted hard drive — containing all project backups since starting work. Entering the password, she discovered a new subfolder unexpectedly created in root directory: `/legacy/`.

Opening revealed neatly categorized contents:

/heart_rate_monitor/

/logs/

20200618_98bpm.txt

20200703_112bpm.txt

20210715_145bpm.txt

/src/

abnormal_alert.py

threshold_adjustment.patch

/sunshine/

/photos/

20200628_26℃.jpg

20201225_5℃.jpg

20210730_32℃.jpg

/notes/

pudding_recipe_v5.txt

debug_toy_spec.txt

Finally, a newly created `README.md` contained only one line:

When in doubt, love.

Cheng Jian stared long at these words until Lu Wan wrapped arms around her neck, chin resting atop her head.

"I backed up your heartbeat history," Lu Wan smiled against her hair. "In case you ever try raising thresholds again."

Cheng Jian clasped those hands around her waist, feeling pulses transmit through connected skin. No monitoring program needed — she knew medically her heart rate exceeded standards now. But what difference did that make?

Turning, she pulled Lu Wan into her arms — kissing those lips always uttering words making her heartbeat go haywire.

Debug slumped on the bookshelf — eye patch long gone, but mouth stitching redone with crimson thread by Lu Wan sometime — looking like it was smiling.