Overloaded Heartbeat
832 Words
Cheng Jian’s smartwatch buzzed at 3:27 AM.
`Warning: Prolonged Abnormal Heart Rate. Current Value: 121 bpm`
She stared at the red text for five seconds before silencing the alert. Lu Wan stirred beside her, turning over — strands of hair brushed Cheng Jian’s collarbone, carrying the faint scent of shampoo. Moonlight slipped through curtain gaps, casting fragmented shadows on Lu Wan’s eyelashes — trembling gently with each breath.
Cheng Jian carefully removed the arm draped across her waist, stepping barefoot onto cool floorboards. In the living room, Debug lay slumped by the sofa — its left eye patch half-loose from last night’s "pirate game."
Cold water splashed against her face as she finally admitted: The health monitoring system needed complete reengineering.
---
In the conference room, the tech director reviewed Cheng Jian’s promotion proposal.
"Solid architecture design," he adjusted his glasses. "But what’s this emotion-based interaction module?"
The projector paused on Slide #7 — titled Optimization of Exception Handling Through Emotional Recognition. But instead of technical diagrams, it displayed two overlapping hand outlines surrounded by temperature gradient ribbons — an unmistakable replica of Lu Wan’s graduation exhibit.
Cheng Jian’s fingers slid aimlessly across her laptop touchpad. "It represents… new directions in human-machine interfaces."
"Too avant-garde." The director shook his head. "Clients want stable trading systems, not algorithms that 'perceive emotions.'"
After the meeting, Cheng Jian saw her tense jawline reflected in the restroom mirror. Cold water hit her face again as she recalled Lu Wan’s words yesterday: "You always blush first at your earlobes when lying."
Indeed, those lobes were now tinged pink in the mirror.
---
New Post-its adorned the fridge:
「Cheng Jian’s Special Pudding V5.2 (10% Less Sugar)」
「AC Repairman Coming Wednesday Morning (Dress Appropriately!)」
「Got an internship! At the illustration studio next to your company 🎉」
The final note brimmed with tiny suns — each sporting different numbers of rays. Cheng Jian counted them; the maximum had 28 — matching the temperature digits in folder names.
"Look!" Lu Wan appeared behind her, pressing a velvet box into her hands. "Welcome-to-work gift!"
Inside sat cufflinks — silver bases embedded with circuit board fragments forming an ECG waveform. Lu Wan’s fingertip traced one section: "Normal heart rate," then moved to the jagged segment, "This is you seeing me in my new dress."
Cheng Jian’s earlobes warmed again.
"I have mine too." Lu Wan unfastened her shirt cuff, revealing identical pins — but with calmer waveforms. "This is my rhythm watching you make coffee."
The cufflinks glinted coldly under lights — like heartbeat records solidified into form. Suddenly Cheng Jian realized: Lu Wan had been transforming all those "abnormal" data points flagged by the health monitor into cherished specimens.
---
Late at night, Cheng Jian frowned at her computer screen.
One final section remained for the promotion draft — the cursor blinked beneath Personal Development Goals. She opened a hidden folder; `/equilibrium/` already contained 47 photos: Lu Wan stealing pudding in the kitchen, their shoes side-by-side by the entrance, shared ice cream prices circled on convenience store receipts...
Rain tapped harder outside. Slowly, she typed:
Personal Development Goals:
1. Rebuild heart rate monitoring algorithm, redefine "abnormal" thresholds
2. Develop bidirectional temperature compensation module
3. Allow system overload operation under specific conditions
As she saved, footsteps approached. Lu Wan stood in the doorway hugging a pillow, sleepwear strap slipping off one shoulder — exposing the crescent-shaped scar below her collarbone.
"Insomnia again?" Rubbing her eyes, Lu Wan naturally settled onto Cheng Jian’s lap — a habit formed last month, like a cat marking territory.
Cheng Jian’s hand hovered midair before resting lightly on Lu Wan’s waist. The thin fabric barely masked skin warmth — precisely 36.5°C.
"What’s this?" Lu Wan pointed at the screen.
"Work." Cheng Jian quickly switched windows.
But Lu Wan pressed her finger atop Cheng Jian’s touchpad hand. "I understood point three." Her breath ghosted Cheng Jian’s earlobe. "That 'specific condition' refers to me, right?"
The smartwatch vibrated on the desk, but neither looked. Cheng Jian’s gaze dropped to Lu Wan’s lips — where traces of bedtime honey glistened under the desk lamp.
"Cheng Jian," Lu Wan suddenly whispered, "want to test the system overload threshold?"
Rain intensified.
Her watch recorded the following ten minutes’ heart rate curve: surging from 121 to 145, peaking momentarily at 158 — like runaway code finally breaking all constraints.
When Lu Wan’s teeth gently grazed her lower lip, Cheng Jian vaguely thought: Maybe it was time to permanently disable the health monitoring program.
---
The next morning, sunlight filtered through imperfectly drawn curtains.
Lu Wan lay atop Cheng Jian, tracing the fresh reddish mark just above her collarbone — like newly inserted comments.
"Cheng Jian," she suddenly giggled, "did you know your chest turns pink when you’re shy?"
Cheng Jian pulled the AC blanket over both their heads, finding Lu Wan’s lips accurately in darkness.
Debug lay nearby, completely missing its eye patch now.
- Writer
