Really Not Interested in You

Chapter 32: Really Not Interested in You

The normal human body temperature was generally around 36–37°C. Any change, whether it went up or down, could harm the body.

A fever of 40°C should still be survivable for a while.

But below 30°C? Xiang Kun figured you were probably just about dead at that point.

And right now, his body temperature was a steady 28°C.

He had also noticed that ever since his mutation, he seemed less sensitive to changes in the temperature around him.

His other senses had grown sharper, but his sense of temperature had become duller—or perhaps he had simply adapted better to it.

Although sunlight suppressed his bodily functions to some extent after sunrise, he barely felt the heat of the blazing sun. In fact, he could tolerate heat better than before.

It was just like the hike he'd taken with Tang Baona and the others. Everyone else was drenched in sweat, while he stayed cool and fresh, barely sweating and scarcely feeling the heat.

Maybe this meant that the suppression his body experienced after sunrise had nothing to do with rising temperatures?

Xiang Kun quickly dismissed the idea. Not feeling hot didn't mean that rising temperatures had nothing to do with his bodily functions being suppressed.

Xiang Kun knew there was a reason the human body maintained a temperature of 36–37°C.

For one thing, more than two-thirds of fungi in nature couldn't survive in temperatures above 37°C, so this temperature reduced the chance of getting sick. For another, if the temperature rose above 37°C, the body needed to burn more calories and take in more food, which was also unfavorable for survival.

Clearly, after his body mutated, he no longer needed higher temperatures to kill fungi and reduce the risk of illness. His immune system must have become very different from an ordinary person's.

At the same time, his body temperature might also have something to do with the fact that he didn't need to eat anything besides fresh blood.

Xiang Kun didn't investigate the issue of his body temperature any further. He was unlikely to reach any conclusions for now, so he simply recorded it in a document and decided to measure his temperature every so often from then on, adding it to the data he needed to record regularly.

The next day, August 5, at 7:35 p.m., the hunger returned within the expected time frame.

Xiang Kun walked over to the rabbit he'd prepared earlier, drained and drank its blood, then cleaned up the carcass with practiced efficiency.

But after killing this rabbit and drinking 170 milliliters of blood, he still felt unmistakably hungry. It wasn't enough.

He stared at the other rabbit for a while and hesitated, but in the end, he didn't kill it for its blood.

Before the drowsiness came over him and he fell asleep, he sent WeChat messages to his parents and his tenant, explaining that he had things to do during the day tomorrow and might not be able to answer his phone. He'd get in touch with them the following evening. That way, they wouldn't worry if they couldn't reach him, come looking for him, or run into any other trouble.

After returning from the hospital, Tang Baona half-reclined on the sofa with her sprained ankle propped up high.

Yang Zhen'er was setting out the takeout that had just arrived.

"How are you feeling? Any better? Want me to feed you, Miss Tang?"

Tang Baona shot her a glare, struggled upright, and rested her foot on the coffee table.

"Hey, hey, there's food on there! Your foot smells so bad!" Yang Zhen'er hurriedly grabbed a low stool from beside the sofa for her to rest her foot on.

Tang Baona glared at her. "What did you say? Who has stinky feet?"

Yang Zhen'er shrank back a little. "I didn't say your feet stink. I said they smell. The foot you've wrapped up smells strong!"

After serving her friend some food and handing it to her, Yang Zhen'er asked, "Want me to call your family and see if you can stay at home for a while? I'm starting work tomorrow, so I won't be able to look after you."

Tang Baona gave her a reproachful look. "Seriously? I just got hurt, and you're already sick of me?"

"How could I be sick of you? I'm just worried you'll have trouble on your own. For one thing, how are you supposed to get to the bathroom by yourself...?"

"I..."

After joking around for a while, their conversation naturally turned to Xiang Kun.

Yang Zhen'er said, "Hey, Nana, that 'Saitama-sensei' of yours has clearly trained in martial arts. Even Coach Zhang at the boxing gym said he couldn't beat him. So why did he keep denying it when we asked? What's there to hide? And when he carried you all the way back, he made it look so easy. His physical fitness must be better than even a professional athlete's, right? Was he really a programmer who worked overtime every day?"

Tang Baona found it a little strange too. While Xiang Kun carried her on his back, she'd felt a coolness coming from him the whole way. He was like a human air conditioner, keeping her cool. He'd said his constitution was unusual and that he was sensitive to cold but not heat, but she still found that hard to explain.

Yang Zhen'er continued, "And earlier, when we were all eating together at noon, he said he'd already eaten two energy bars and didn't want anything else. He even eats in secret. Isn't that weird?"

"He told me he has strange eating habits and is pretty picky, so he doesn't like eating with other people," Tang Baona explained.

Yang Zhen'er nodded. "No wonder he refused to stay for dinner. But as weird as he is, at least he doesn't put on an act. He says what he means. He's nothing like that overseas returnee you went on a blind date with last time. After a few minutes of conversation, he started bragging about all the people he knew in Britain, all the places he'd been, and how his company was going to list on Nasdaq, blah blah blah..."

In the car, she'd deliberately asked questions that seemed materialistic and out of touch, hoping to get a rise out of Xiang Kun. But she hadn't expected him not to care at all. He admitted he was short on money, said he'd lost his job, and even acknowledged that he was going bald. He didn't try to hide or dodge anything.

But Xiang Kun's earlier openness and honesty had also left Yang Zhen'er puzzled. Training in martial arts would have been something he could use to his advantage, something he could brag about. So why deny it?

"Nana, let's get Lao Xia to weigh in. She can help figure out whether you and 'Saitama-sensei' have a chance," Yang Zhen'er suggested, sitting down beside Tang Baona.

"No! I told you, we're just ordinary friends. We might not even keep in touch in the future!" Tang Baona said at once.

"Come on. He carried you for ages today and brought you all the way home safe and sound, and now you're saying you might not keep in touch? That's a bit like crossing a bridge and tearing it down behind you, isn't it?"

"Hey!" Tang Baona glared at her and reached out to pinch her.

Yang Zhen'er quickly raised both hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! You're just ordinary friends. But don't you think he's a little mysterious?"

"What's so mysterious about him? Apart from whether he's trained in martial arts, he answered all your other questions, didn't he? And maybe he really hasn't trained in martial arts. Maybe he's just naturally fit."

"He seems perfectly normal in every way, but I still get the feeling there's something about him I can't quite see through. I can't put my finger on what it is, though. Don't tell me you haven't felt it too! Let's introduce him to Lao Xia. She specializes in psychology, and she's always been good at reading people. She'll definitely notice something."

"Then you ask him. You added him on WeChat, didn't you?"

"What would it look like if I asked? He's not the one I went on a blind date with... Fine, fine, you're just ordinary friends. You ask him instead. You've got a better excuse. Say you want to thank him for carrying you home today and invite him over..."

"He doesn't like eating with other people."

"Then invite him to play cards. How about tomorrow night? At our place!"

Tang Baona reluctantly sent him a WeChat message. A while later, she got a reply and handed her phone to Yang Zhen'er without changing her expression.

Yang Zhen'er stared at Xiang Kun's eight-character reply—"Sorry, I have something on tomorrow"—then murmured, a little dazed, "Nana, looks like he really isn't interested in you..."