Bullet Points

Grinding

Why did bad things always happen to good people?

Well, in Han Shangyan's case, perhaps he had to accept that good person was a little bit of a stretch. Regardless, he could not fathom which deity he had pissed off to warrant such a ghastly punishment. Whatever he had done in his past life, it must have been dire; why else would the human curse known as Zhou Shan persist in following him everywhere like a pint-sized plague? Why would she continuously force herself into his personal space like a godforsaken virus? Call him unkind, but the only way Gun could think to describe the woman was as a chihuahua who constantly nipped at his heels. Unfortunately for Zhou Shan, Han Shangyan had never been much of a dog person. He also detested his space being invaded, a fact that was seemingly lost on the opportunistic, eager journalist.

It was days like this when Gun found himself bemoaning the genes handed down to him from his father. Sometimes, a handsome face wasn't worth the hassle. He had never enjoyed being the centre of attention, and regrettably, his face was a positive magnet for twittering girls who had more eyelashes than sense. His poker face was omnipresent, but it didn't seem to phase Zhou Shan – she still seemed to think that there was a possibility that the two of them would end up as an item. The K and K boss wasn't blind, and it was beyond obvious that the girl held some kind of ill-advised candle for him – how many times could he be expected to reject the same person?

The word no just did not seem to be a dominant part of the harpy's vocabulary; either that, or she had an extremely selective memory and nerves of steel. It wasn't as though he could be accused of stringing her along; Han Shangyan could swear, hand on heart, that he had never shown so much as a flicker of interest. Not that it mattered; no amount of icy indifference on his part seemed to penetrate her obstinacy. Was she just a glutton for punishment? Her tenacity knew no bounds; even when Gun had gone nuclear, telling her point-blank, with multiple witnesses, that he had never and would never harbor any interest in her whatsoever, it had little to no effect. All he had succeeding in doing was wasting perfectly good oxygen.

His pitiless warning had rebounded off Zhou Shan's lacquered skull without leaving so much as a dent. His words went in one ear and out the other without impact. In fact, Gun suspected that he would yield better results if he just banged his head repeatedly against the wall. Truth be told, it would probably be an infinitely more pleasurable experience than another minute of so-called 'conversation' with the dreadful harpy who masqueraded as a woman. She was so damn irritating and toxic, her nickname may as well just be bleach. Gun had had just about enough of her antics to last him a lifetime.

Drastic times called for drastic measures...

The duvet-bound silkworm Han Shangyan had hauled over his shoulder like an irksome sack of potatoes struggled ineffectually and shrieked indignantly. Gun shuddered as her voice shivered unpleasantly down his spine like an ice cube. Her voice was several octaves higher than should be possible for a regular human and it made his skin crawl. It did little to endear Zhou Shan to her intended target; the sound of her shrill fury reverberated around Gun's skull with all the delicacy of a wrecking ball. His eyelid twitched as the sounds continued, unheeded by his apparent lack of response. He wondered vaguely if the despotic woman was somehow enjoying his callousness as he heaved her up the stairs, narrowly avoiding cracking her head on the winding glass bannister. Surely, no sane person would enjoy being reduced to human luggage? Then again, sanity didn't seem to be an emotion the journalist possessed...

His burden chose that moment to writhe desperately in his grasp and he almost dropped her. Only the quick reflexes honed over a long CTF career saved her from eating carpeted staircase. It would only serve her right! Gun winced and seriously reconsidered dropping her again as a swaddled kneecap collided against his collarbone, only succeeding in stoking his annoyance. It didn't hurt, of course, but Zhou Shan was nothing but an inconvenience he could sure as hell do without – he had much, much better things to do!