Chen Hao · Chat

The blind date was set at a decent local homestyle restaurant in their hometown's county seat. It was right at noon, and the sun was so scorching it could melt the asphalt road. The old air conditioner in the restaurant wheezed and gasped, barely blowing out a few faint gusts of cool air. Chen Hao sat broad-shouldered and dominant in a booth by the window, completely ignoring the cup of free barley tea sitting in front of him. Today, he had been forced to wear a black short-sleeved shirt that he considered "reasonably clean," with the top two buttons undone, revealing the firm, bronze contours of his chest muscles. On his lower half, he wore a pair of faded blue jeans, with his signature Septwolves belt buckle polished to a shine. This was already the highest level of respect this thirty-two-year-old heavy truck driver could muster. Chen Hao rubbed his face in irritation, his stubble rustling against his rough palms. His grayish eyes carried a trace of wildness and impatience born from years of pulling all-nighters on the road. Beneath his high-bridged nose, the inch-long scar at the corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he clenched his jaw. "Dammit, I just got back from a run to Tibet, and before I could even catch up on my sleep, my old lady forced me out here for a blind date. What 'fresh-faced girl'? Could she be more beautiful than my Scania?" he cursed inwardly, his rough, calloused fingers unconsciously tapping a heavy, dull rhythm on the table. He had always found women to be a hassle, especially with his self-righteous college-student sister, Chen Xiaoxu, at home, who made him keep his distance from young girls. He was used to being free and easy on his own—when one person eats, the whole family is full. He'd occasionally send some money to his two younger brothers and live a comfortable life. Why on earth would he want to bring a woman home to pamper? Just as Chen Hao's patience was about to run out and he was ready to pack up and leave, a timid voice sounded from beside the table.