His Venomous Former Boss Chased Him And Beat Him Fiercely Chapter 2

Resignation—Genetic Disease

“It’s me. Was what I said wrong?” A person gritted their teeth and stepped forward, their words imbued with a sense of righteous indignation.

It almost made Kong Xunwen look like the villain.

Kong Xunwen found it rather novel. Wow, this was the first time he’d been treated as a villain.

“Leaving aside whether you’re right or wrong, how did you manage to stay?” He was slightly curious. Was this person exceptionally talented?

“Are you accusing me of cheating?! I stayed because of my ability, of course!” The person’s expression instantly changed, as if they had been deeply insulted.

Kong Xunwen was momentarily stalled by this baffling line of thought. He shook his head. “Why would I waste time doing something like that? Haven’t we wasted enough time here already?”

Then he added sincerely, “If your goal was just to waste more of my time, I have to admit, you seem to have won.”

The person opened their mouth, seemingly unable to think of a retort, or perhaps they were simply exasperated by Kong Xunwen’s calm demeanor. Throwing caution to the wind, they asked directly, “Don’t you feel ashamed? If you know you’re not good enough, you should give up your spot. Isn’t this just…”

“Hogging the latrine without doing your business.”

Kong Xunwen heard the final, lowered sentence. The person was clearly embarrassed to say such a thing, but after saying it, a hint of smugness appeared on their face, as if they thought this was enough to defeat Kong Xunwen.

Kong Xunwen offered no comment, merely finding it a bit amusing. Yet, when he spoke, it had nothing to do with the current topic: “Which designer are you currently interning under?”

The person’s expression shifted. They looked at him warily, probably assuming he was going to tattle and make trouble for them. Their body stiffened slightly, and they remained silent.

“Why aren’t you speaking? Aren’t you interning under CEO Qiu? How come I’ve never seen you?” Kong Xunwen feigned sudden realization. “Oh—so you’re not interning under CEO Qiu. I thought you were standing up for someone else, but it turns out…”

He swept his gaze over the person, his expression completely neutral, making his words sound even more mocking: “You’re just looking for an excuse for your own lack of ability.”

The person froze, about to say something, but they were already looking at the back of the young man as he walked away.

A sentence drifted back through the air: “If you have an issue, you can wait for CEO Qiu to return and tell him. Sneaking around like this…” The trailing sound carried a faint chuckle.

The people around them, who had been either watching the show or agreeing with the person’s words, now kept a wide distance, nowhere near the initial closeness.

They had offended an old employee, and one who worked directly under CEO Qiu, no less. The fact that Kong Xunwen had remained an intern for this long surely indicated something, didn’t it?

Life was probably going to be difficult for the newcomer now.

*

Kong Xunwen paid no attention to the petty thoughts of the newcomers behind him. After speaking, he felt his mood suddenly lighten, though it was still difficult to make the final decision to resign.

This idea had only surfaced recently, because—

Three years had been enough time for him to realize he had absolutely no talent in this field. Fashion design felt like a rigid frame that constrained all his ideas. When designing clothes, he was always forced to think about how to turn the design sketch into a physical object.

Kong Xunwen truly lacked the ability, or rather, the talent, to dance within that frame.

Every time a design sketch was initially formed in his mind, took shape on the paper, it became mediocre in reality.

The process was almost always the same. He still remembered his superior’s critique.

“If these things could be called designs, I wouldn’t be sitting here; I’d be waiting by the trash heap for a stroke of luck.”

“The drawing is good, and the imagination is rich, but are you going to use your imagination to help people wear clothes? The Emperor’s New Clothes? Will you stand by holding your masterpiece and tell your client: only those with rich imaginations can see the clothes being worn?”

It was highly sarcastic, but Kong Xunwen felt his superior’s evaluation was quite accurate—referring to the latter part, as his design sketches were still a distance away from being actual trash.

In short, this unchangeable lack of talent always made Kong Xunwen feel despair. He didn’t even know which direction to focus his efforts.

Sighing, Kong Xunwen’s mood slowly sank again. Resign, keep trying, or settle for being a Design Assistant. He had a premonition that the choice he made now was a critical life decision, and what his future looked like depended on this choice.

But precisely because of this, he wasn’t in too much of a hurry.

Perhaps his superior was right; he needed a good rest.

Three days passed in a flash. Today was the fourth day. Tomorrow, his superior and colleagues would return from their business trip.

Kong Xunwen had, as his superior suggested, rested (slacked off) well for three days.

He arrived at his workstation today, opened his diary as usual, and despite the bright sunshine outside, a gloomy character was ruthlessly inscribed on the page.

Today’s Weather: Overcast.

Kong Xunwen lifelessly closed his diary and looked up. He had tried to adjust his routine these past few days, yet he found it hard to fall asleep every night, leading him to open his phone and stay up late.

The cycle repeated daily.

Affected by the lack of sleep, he was enveloped in drowsiness today, and he couldn’t help but yawn, reaffirming his resolve.

Tonight, he really had to go to bed on time!

But given the current situation, he’d have to find time to sneak in a quick nap later.

His eyes blurred from yawning, and he vaguely saw a few words in the open group chat.

“…the weather is bad.”

Someone else had the same thought as him, but was this person perhaps a little strange?

Kong Xunwen blinked and looked again, finally seeing the full sentence clearly.

“Didn’t see CEO Qiu again today. Feels like the weather is bad.”

Alright, he was the only abnormal one.

Kong Xunwen spotted his own photo right below and immediately closed the chat window.

His email icon flashed. He clicked it open. It was a new email from the hospital where he had his physical examination; the results must be out.

Kong Xunwen thought it would probably just be some minor issues caused by staying up late and an irregular routine. It was fine; he would start changing today!

…Probably.

He clicked it open, squinted, leaned closer, tried to focus, tried to understand, found his brain couldn’t process the information, and gave up.

The whole process didn’t take long. Kong Xunwen decisively skipped the unfamiliar medical terms and images in the middle and scrolled to the very bottom.

He started looking for the diagnosis.

Kong Xunwen found the result unfamiliar. It wasn’t the usual brief summary. What appeared before him was a long, complex name.

He had a bad feeling. He scrolled back up, trying to find evidence that this wasn’t his report, but the result disappointed him—it was definitely his.

It turned out he really was the abnormal one.

He copied the long name and pasted it into a search engine.

The result was also a long entry, but this time, the sentences were understandable. Kong Xunwen read carefully from beginning to end.

…It was a new type of Genetic Disease. The symptom was that it could mutate at any time, but it could also remain dormant until death.

Simply put, it was a matter of luck.

Below the search results, an automatically suggested video appeared. It featured a little girl, and the title mentioned this rare condition. It had over a million likes.

He clicked it open and watched the video from start to finish.

The little girl was very optimistic, smiling beautifully at the camera. Her round eyes were bright, and she held her tied-up pigtails next to her ears, like an adorable lop-eared rabbit. “I will work hard, work hard to live to one hundred, two hundred, three hundred years old!”

He opened the comments section, which was full of comforting, encouraging, and praising words—the kind of comment section that made the world feel beautiful.

If the old Kong Xunwen had stumbled upon it, he might have been one of those commenters, but now, his mood was complicated. He subconsciously closed the video and the browser, leaving only the email open.

The text on the screen hadn’t changed at all.

Yet, he felt a sense of unreality.

The morning passed quickly. Kong Xunwen didn’t know what he was thinking, or perhaps he wasn’t thinking at all; his mind was blank. Eventually, only one thought remained—resignation.

He submitted his resignation application just before lunch break. Since his superior was still away on a business trip and couldn’t process the application immediately, he could apply for early leave by submitting a supplementary application under the resignation request.

He finished all this before lunch break, and the supplementary application was approved by the system during the break.

Kong Xunwen let out a breath and shut down his computer. Regardless of everything else, he wouldn’t regret resigning.

He had quite a few belongings, and it took some time to pack them up. He carried them out of the company, took one last look back, and got into a taxi to go home.

He didn’t have time for lunch, and Kong Xunwen quickly left the house again.

…Several hours later, he was looking through screenshots on his phone. These were the results he had gathered after visiting several nearby hospitals, including an expensive private clinic.

The facts proved that a blunder like a misdiagnosis was very unlikely to happen now.

That sliver of hope vanished. Kong Xunwen slowly registered his hunger. He found a roadside stall and ate a bowl of noodles. His brain finally started working again.

Now that he had resigned, what next? He should go back to his hometown.

Expenses were low there, and his current savings would last for a while. If the opportunity arose, he could try to pursue whatever he wanted.

He didn’t overthink the rest. Once he confirmed this decision, Kong Xunwen returned to his small rented room to pack his belongings and prepare to ship them back.

He had lived here for three years, and although most of that time was spent at the company or on business trips, he had left many traces. It took him a long time to pack up.

He was busy until the evening, when he shipped his things and bought his ticket. He also informed the landlord. Kong Xunwen lay down on the bed.

He was very tired, but he couldn’t sleep.

He tossed and turned all night. When he woke up the next day, he was still exhausted despite having slept. The bizarre, shifting lights of his dreams seemed to linger in his vision.

His phone rang. It wasn’t fully light yet, but he couldn’t sleep anymore. Kong Xunwen vigorously rubbed his heavy forehead, got up, and washed up.

Taxi, plane, and then another taxi after landing.

The surrounding environment visibly changed, transitioning from a prosperous, sharp-edged city to a place filled with human warmth. The sense of technology slowly faded.

However, Kong Xunwen was troubled. He hadn’t slept well yesterday, and he had been constantly moving since morning. Soon, he would have to take a long-distance bus back. Yesterday, he hadn’t thought much, just deciding to save some money.

But he was a patient now! An invisible patient was still a patient!

Kong Xunwen, troubled enough to want to have a cross-time conversation with his past self, could only vent internally.

Planes and high-speed rail now connected everywhere, yet the bus—

How could it be this dilapidated?!

Kong Xunwen felt utterly defeated as he swayed back and forth. Vehicles were already automated now, and this bus had no other passengers, and now, no driver either. It was truly his private car.

The space was wide, yet no matter where he sat, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being dirty laundry tossed around in a washing machine drum.

He looked at his reflection in the window. Even though he couldn’t see clearly, he was certain.

He must look green.

The bus was slow. The three-wheeled carts that occasionally overtook them on the roadside filled Kong Xunwen with despair. When would this torment end?

Finally, he got off the bus, his face pale, his stomach churning. He dry-heaved a few times. He hadn’t eaten much these past two days, so nothing came up, but his eyes were watering.

Stepping off the asphalt road, he was greeted by the neat, flat flagstone path paved by the village. The materials were generous, and the road was wide.

Everything seemed unchanged, yet much had changed. The fresh air hitting Kong Xunwen’s nose made him feel slightly better.

“How old are you?” A childish voice suddenly rang out beside his ear.