Life is Like a Journey – Chapter 124
by Little PandaVolume 4: Union
Life as a Journey
Life is like a journey at an inn, and I too am but a traveler.
Three years later.
“Here, look here, bride smile a bit, yes, that’s it!”
“Groom, stop grinning foolishly, look at the camera!”
The wedding ceremony was held on a grass lawn under blue skies and white clouds. The attendees were all hospital leaders and colleagues. Liu Qingyun held Chen Yi’s hand awkwardly, looking even more lost under the guidance of the officiant and videographer.
Laughter erupted from below as Yu Gui and Hao Renjie banged on the table and shouted: “Kiss! Kiss!”
These troublemakers! Chen Yi’s mouth twisted in annoyance, but seeing her husband’s slightly reddened face and everyone’s joyous atmosphere, she couldn’t help but show a bride’s bashfulness.
Especially when he slowly leaned in, Chen Yi gently closed her eyes, and the kiss landed on her lips.
Below, friendly whistles and cheers broke out.
The photographer pressed the shutter.
Under the blue sky and white clouds, rose petals scattered across the green lawn. Before the flower-adorned arch, the handsome surgeon in his suit and the anesthesiologist in her pure white wedding dress completed their sacred kiss.
Such a happy moment brought tears to the eyes of those watching below.
Yu Gui felt somewhat dazed. When the officiant suggested everyone go up for a group photo, she took a few steps, then came back to grab her phone.
Today, Yu Gui also wore a well-tailored formal dress, walking in delicate high heels, her hair neatly pinned up, revealing her smooth, slender neck. Small tassels hung from her earrings, accentuating her facial features and collarbone.
Three years had passed, time had refined her temperament, making her elegant and enchanting.
She stood next to Chen Yi, who whispered to her while the photographer adjusted settings: “Several anesthesiologists in our department asked for your contact information, what do you think, consider it?”
Yu Gui followed her gaze. There was a newly arrived attending physician in the anesthesiology department, reportedly the son of a provincial health commission leader, with promising prospects and decent looks.
The man in his early thirties noticed her glance and smiled in acknowledgment. Yu Gui shifted her gaze away imperceptibly, with a superficial smile: “Thank you, sister.”
“You’re planning to stay single until…” Chen Yi maintained her expression, but the photographer gave her no chance to finish.
“Alright, everyone look this way, one, two, three, cheese!”
The lengthy ceremony finally ended. Yu Gui, already starving, grabbed a plate and went searching for food. The young gentleman from earlier approached, offering her a glass of champagne.
Yu Gui, stuffing cake into her mouth and thoroughly enjoying it, had no free hand to take it: “Sorry, I’m on duty today, no alcohol.”
The young gentleman’s expression twitched. He picked up a slice of salmon, dipped it in wasabi and soy sauce, and placed it on her plate.
“Try this, it’s delicious.”
Yu Gui glanced at it, swallowing her cake crumbs: “Wild salmon comes from the North Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, they’re rare and have strict fishing seasons. It’s not fishing season now, so most salmon in the market is farmed rainbow trout. Unlike saltwater fish, freshwater fish are very prone to parasites.”
She licked her lips, watching his face turn increasingly green with secret delight: “Speaking of parasites, just the other day I operated on a case of beef tapeworm. We pulled out a whole plateful from the intestines, looking just like noodles…”
Urgh—
The young gentleman’s throat bobbed, seeming to want to say something, but with a ghastly pale face, he turned and stumbled away.
Yu Gui was secretly pleased, picking up the salmon and popping it into her mouth. There weren’t really that many parasites, who cares, eat first, think later!
Just as she was enjoying her food, her phone vibrated. Yu Gui wiped her hands with a napkin, answered it, and her expression instantly changed. She lifted her dress and began running.
Hao Renjie also emerged from the crowd, along with several other doctors who stood up. Yu Gui called out to the newlyweds: “Someone collapsed at the airport, I need to go.”
Even though she had grown into a capable doctor, Liu Qingyun, as her senior, still worried: “Alright, call me if you can’t handle it. I’ll finish up here and head back to the hospital.”
Yu Gui waved him off, running in her heels: “No need, it’s your big day, leave it to me.”
After a few steps, feeling the thin straps rubbing painfully against her heels, Yu Gui simply took them off and carried them as she ran. Fortunately, the wedding venue wasn’t far from the hospital, and the ambulance was already waiting.
She jumped into the vehicle in a few quick steps, pulled out a pair of soft-soled surgery shoes from the overhead compartment and put them on. Hao Renjie quickly followed her into the vehicle, along with two interns.
The doors locked, and they quickly departed. The ambulance siren wailed as other vehicles made way, rapidly running through red lights and turning onto the main road to the airport.
Yu Gui put on a white coat, and Hao Renjie handed her a stethoscope. He watched as she removed her earrings and tucked them into the coat’s side pocket, pulled out her ID badge from her bag and pinned it on, let down her carefully styled hair and casually tied it into a practical ponytail, tucked a marker pen into her coat pocket, ready for action.
She was definitely different from the rookie she was five years ago.
The ambulance could only drive up to the international arrivals gate. The doors opened, and Yu Gui slung the emergency kit over her shoulder, quickly jumped out, and ran inside with the airport ground staff.
“What’s the situation?!”
“Passenger, male, forty-five years old, no abnormalities during the flight, suddenly collapsed while queuing after arrival…”
As he spoke, Yu Gui quickly assessed in her mind: forty-five, middle-aged, hypertension, anemia, or myocardial infarction?
Airport, air travel, hyperventilation syndrome?
But the ground staff weren’t medical personnel and couldn’t provide more accurate descriptions. She’d have to rely on her own examination methods.
She immediately spotted the wall of people in the center of the hall. Yu Gui pushed through: “Clear the crowd first, don’t all crowd around!”
The airport security finally put up warning tape as several doctors filed in. The young doctor following her immediately saw the man lying on the ground, limbs convulsing, face showing an abnormal redness, chest heaving, head lolling – the situation was critical.
“Sir, sir, are you alright?!” He rushed forward first to hold him down.
“Don’t—” Yu Gui couldn’t stop him in time and watched helplessly as the patient sprayed a large amount of fresh blood from his mouth and nose. The watching crowd gasped and involuntarily stepped back.
The doctor who got splattered in the face was dumbfounded, almost crying. Yu Gui was both anxious and angry: “Everyone back! Put on masks and double gloves before touching the patient!”
Hao Renjie drained more blood from the patient’s mouth while Yu Gui pressed on his chest, frowning.
Seeing her concerned expression, Hao Renjie’s heart trembled: “What’s wrong?”
Yu Gui shook her head: “Something’s strange, doesn’t look like gastrointestinal bleeding. Take his temperature. Where are his family members?! Are any family members here?!”
After calling out several times, a middle-aged man carrying a backpack stepped out from the crowd: “I, I, I…”
“What’s your relationship to him? Did he show any symptoms before this?”
The man hurriedly shook his head: “I’m, I’m his colleague. We traveled to Guinea together. He seemed to have caught a cold a few days before returning, kept complaining about headaches and fever, but got a bit better after taking cold medicine…”
Cold, headache, fever, bleeding…
Some clue flashed through her mind, but she couldn’t connect the dots. Yu Gui helped lift the patient: “Give me a hand, let’s get him to the ambulance for further examination at the hospital. You come too!”
She turned to call the man to the ambulance, then glanced at her blood-covered colleague.
“Disinfect your skin when you get back, and go to hematology for a blood test. Report any discomfort immediately, understood?”
The young man smiled shyly: “Thank you, Dr. Yu.”
Yu Gui smiled back: “Don’t mention it.”
Everyone had experienced occupational exposure, and she didn’t take it seriously at the moment, not knowing it would lead to disaster later.
The patient remained unconscious and was immediately put on a ventilator upon return. Once the situation stabilized temporarily, Yu Gui went to report to the director. After listening, Director Zhang, with his rich clinical experience, also frowned.
“Are the blood work and biochemistry results back?”
Yu Gui shook her head: “Not yet, I’ve asked the lab to expedite them.”
The elderly director stood up from behind his desk, tucking his stethoscope into his pocket: “Are the vital signs stable? If so, arrange for a CT scan.”
Yu Gui followed him out: “Already done, we’ll get the results in half an hour.”
Director Zhang’s face showed a trace of approval as he patted her shoulder: “Good, I’ll go check on the patient first. If needed, we’ll call for a hospital-wide consultation.”
They hadn’t taken two steps when a young nurse rushed over from the EICU: “Director Zhang, Dr. Yu, come quickly! Bed Three’s condition is critical – breathing, heartbeat, and blood pressure are rapidly deteriorating, with severe bleeding!”
Yu Gui, being young, immediately darted out: “Take your time, I’ll go ahead.”
Director Zhang followed, panting: “This kid…”
Squeezing into the ICU, several medical staff were holding down the patient’s convulsing limbs. The patient suddenly jerked upright, fell by the bedside, and violently vomited a large amount of bright red, viscous liquid. A foul smell permeated the air.
Several people standing by the bedside couldn’t escape the splatter, including the young doctor who had gone out on calls with her that morning. Yu Gui frowned, pulled out gloves from the medical cart, and put on two layers.
“Didn’t I tell you to go get your blood tested?”
The young man’s face reddened: “I saw they needed help here, so I came.”
Yu Gui said no more, walked to the bedside and lifted the patient’s eyelids to check, then lifted his clothes, revealing visible blood-filled blisters on the skin.
Something flashed through her mind, and Yu Gui frowned: “Everyone step back, put on isolation gowns before touching the patient.”
Director Zhang entered, and a nurse brought him an isolation gown. Yu Gui was bent over the bed performing CPR while the machines beeped incessantly.
With each compression, blood foam poured from the patient’s mouth. The white sheets were mostly soaked through, and a dark red puddle had formed on the floor.
The blood loss must have been at least 500 milliliters. Director Zhang thought this wasn’t good: “Where are the scans?! Are they here yet?! Why is the lab always so slow?!”
“Here, here!” A young nurse rushed in from the doorway carrying an imaging envelope. Director Zhang pulled them out to look, and cold sweat immediately broke out.
“Quick, call for a hospital-wide consultation, especially the infectious disease department, get them here immediately!”
Yu Gui was drenched in sweat. She released her hands as the life monitor showed two horizontal lines, all values at zero.
Her gaze flickered, but her expression remained neutral.
“It’s too late.”
After early spring, Jinzhou experienced a cold snap. With cold mornings and evenings but hot afternoons, many people caught colds, and the emergency clinic was mostly treating patients with fever.
On another ordinary morning, a middle-aged woman came to the outpatient hall supporting a middle-aged man with a flushed face.
Before they reached the triage counter, the man covered his mouth to cough several times, then suddenly sprayed a large amount of fresh blood through his fingers.
The crowd panicked. Hao Renjie ran out from behind the triage counter and helped the collapsed man: “Quick, bring a stretcher, and call Dr. Yu!”
Yu Gui ran out from the emergency treatment room and helped others lift the patient onto the bed. Suddenly she felt he looked familiar, like she’d seen him somewhere before.
In a flash, she remembered the man who had collapsed at the airport three days ago and died shortly after being hospitalized. Looking more carefully at this man’s face – wasn’t he that backpacker!
Collapse, fever, bleeding… The same symptoms, the same travel destination, close contact with the deceased.
Her mind buzzed, knowing this was bad: “Call the hospital director. This isn’t an ordinary illness – it must be a highly contagious virus. We must report this to the Health Commission immediately!”
One month later.
“The WHO announced on the 24th that Ebola hemorrhagic fever outbreaks have appeared in multiple locations including Guinea, Liberia, Sierra Leone, Mali, and the United States. The death toll in Guinea and Liberia has exceeded 6,123, with over 10,000 infected cases. Experts warn that for your and your family’s safety, please avoid traveling to West African countries. Additionally, the few cases that appeared in China’s southeastern coastal region have been effectively controlled. Immunology and epidemiology experts dispatched by the National Health Commission have rushed to local hospitals. Citizens are urged not to believe, spread, or create rumors.”
Like an invisible disaster spreading, it began with just one or two medical staff falling ill, then more and more people collapsed. Their deaths were horrifically gruesome – endless bleeding both internally and externally. Conventional internal medicine and surgical methods couldn’t stop the bleeding, as if the blood wasn’t merely flowing from the patients’ bodies but was eating away at their flesh inch by inch.
Even more terrifying was that CT scans showed blood clots filling the brain.
There was no cure; they could only wait for death.
The young doctor who had followed Yu Gui was among the first to fall ill. After struggling for ten days, Yu Gui closed his eyes for the final time.
The young doctor was fully equipped from head to toe, eyes red beneath his mask. Yu Gui bit her lip, shedding tears for the first time in three years.
She struggled to rise from the bedside, looking at her colleagues still fighting behind her. The entire emergency department had been designated as an isolation zone – entry allowed, but no exit. They were among the first doctors to encounter the Ebola outbreak, and they remained steadfast at their posts.
Yu Gui hadn’t been home for over a month now. Every day, more people fell ill, the shadow of death looming over everyone’s hearts.
“Chen Yi, Chen Yi! Hold on! Chen Yi!” Liu Qingyun’s sobbing voice carried over. Yu Gui snapped out of her daze and rushed past the hindering curtain.
“Sister Chen! Sister Chen!” Her eyes also reddened with urgency as she watched Chen Yi’s pale, unconscious face, helpless to do anything.
Yu Gui had never hated her own powerlessness so much.
A motorcycle slowly stopped at the entrance of Renji Medical University First Affiliated Hospital, which was already under lockdown. The woman sitting in the back dismounted first, removed her helmet, smoothed her hair, and though her face was masked, her eyes beneath her bangs were clear and penetrating.
She handed her helmet to another person, a woman in motorcycle gear who removed the key from the ignition, took the helmet and hung it on the handlebar, then walked in with her.
Military personnel came to intercept them: “Ma’am, this is a quarantine zone, entry is strictly forbidden.”
Lu Qingshi showed her credentials. The man hesitated, then another person who was clearly an officer came to inspect them.
“Dr. Lu?”
Lu Qingshi nodded, retrieving and putting away her credentials: “May we enter now?”
The soldier’s keen senses immediately noticed a through-and-through wound on her right hand. Though she appeared approachable, when their eyes met, he was startled.
Behind her gentle and calm gaze lay the steadfast composure forged in the flames of war.
He stepped back and gave a military salute: “Please enter. We heard an international medical expert would arrive today, but I never expected—”
Never expected she would arrive so simply, alone on a motorcycle.
Lu Qingshi lifted the warning tape and ducked under, with Gu Yanzhi following closely. The officer glanced at her, their gazes meeting directly.
She hadn’t been back in the country long, and the cold, decisive, bloodthirsty look in her eyes, honed on the battlefield, hadn’t yet learned to soften.
A drop of cold sweat slid down the officer’s temple.
Lu Qingshi turned back, calling softly: “Gu Yanzhi.”
The person blinked and grinned, showing a row of white teeth, extending her hand: “Hello, I’m Gu Yanzhi, I’m Dr. Lu’s…”
Lu Qingshi pulled her over and took out a mask from her pocket to put it on her: “We’re about to enter the quarantine zone. Follow me and keep quiet.”
The person who had just been radiating killing intent was now as docile as a cat under Dr. Lu’s care.
The officer’s mouth twitched – what kind of people were these…
The strong smell of disinfectant permeated the air. Doctors in white protective suits from head to toe carried bodies wrapped in black bags from the wards, leaving trails of blood as they walked.
Patients lying in beds had skin mottled blue and purple. Those with open eyes had turned blood-red, and many were bleeding from their noses, eyes, and even their rectums, their skin appearing to dissolve.
Ebola was truly a flower of death, and Lu Qingshi had seen such tragedies many times in West Africa and the Middle East.
She walked through with an unchanged expression, stepping over the blood mixed with internal organ fragments that patients had just vomited.
Gu Yanzhi didn’t even frown, and even helped a nurse lift a collapsed patient back onto the bed.
“Sister Haoren, give me the suction, he’s failing, quick!”
Chen Yi had just collapsed, and now Director Zhang was down too. Yu Gui’s eyes brimmed with tears. When she got no response and turned around hurriedly, the person behind her was also swaying.
She burst into tears instantly: “Sister Haoren!”
“Yu Gui… I… I don’t think I’ll make it…” As he spoke, blood seeped under his mask, his entire head seeming to be soaked in blood.
Yu Gui gritted her teeth and reached out to remove it, but Hao Renjie’s gloved hand slowly grabbed her arm: “Don’t… don’t remove it… it’s contagious…”
Yu Gui shook her head desperately, tears falling and wetting her protective suit: “No… no… no… you’ll be fine… let me help you up… stand up! Keep arguing with me like you always do! Don’t stay silent… Sister Haoren…”
The young doctor held her colleague’s bleeding body helplessly, her fragile wails carrying far.
Until a hand gently touched her shoulder, Yu Gui choked back sobs and shrugged it off: “Don’t… don’t touch me… it’s contagious…”
“It’s me.”
A cool, somewhat familiar voice.
The young person whirled around, falling into a pair of unperturbed eyes.
“Teacher Lu…” She cried with joy, almost wanting to stand up and throw herself into her arms, but her colleague’s death dampened the joy of reunion.
Her eyes were swollen red behind the mask; she had clearly been crying a lot these days.
Lu Qingshi’s gaze moved from her face to Hao Renjie, then thought of the desolate emergency department she’d just walked through.
Pain suddenly welled up in the woman’s eyes: “I’m sorry I came back late.”
When she said this, it was as if she was back at her old operating table – the invincible Dr. Lu had returned.
This time, Yu Gui truly cried tears of joy.
As it turned out, Lu Qingshi’s return brought not only experience in fighting Ebola in the Middle East but also the world’s earliest vaccine.
It was a recombinant Ebola vaccine jointly developed by Changsheng Biologics and the University of Toronto. The clinical data was provided by Lu Qingshi, having passed both animal and human trials, with the research published in the latest issue of “The Lancet” [weekly peer-reviewed general medical journal].
It was hailed as humanity’s hope in defeating the Ebola virus.
But Yu Gui knew that medical progress always came with death, and vaccine effectiveness varied with different recipients.
For instance, while Chen Yi and Hao Renjie successfully survived the critical period, Director Zhang didn’t make it through.
Three months later, the dust settled. The Ebola virus disappeared globally, but no one knew when it might resurge.
Before then, all we could do was reduce disease transmission through proper intake and aid impoverished countries – which was essentially helping ourselves.
Liu Changsheng removed his reading glasses and studied her carefully.
Her face showed weathering, fine lines appeared at her eyes, her skin had roughened, and small freckles dotted her face from prolonged sun exposure.
Even the most delicate person would turn into a cactus after spending two years in the Middle East.
The doctor stood straight in her white coat, like a poplar standing tall in the desert.
Her temperament had indeed changed. She used to be cold and reticent; now, though still of few words, she carried the silence of a sheathed sword.
He sighed softly: “Are you sure about this?”
Lu Qingshi nodded: “Please stamp it.”
Opening the drawer, her resignation letter was still there. Lu Qingshi’s eyes flickered upon seeing it.
“You kept it.”
“Yes, you were Old Meng’s most valued doctor, and mine too. Everyone hoped you’d return someday, but who knew…”
He took out Renji Medical University’s official seal and slowly signed and stamped her personnel transfer document.
Lu Qingshi took the document, gave a slight bow, and rose to leave.
Her student was waiting for her on the rooftop.
In three years, she had become the youngest chief resident in the emergency department.
While Lu Qingshi had risen to an even higher stage, becoming someone ordinary people could hardly look up to anymore.
Yu Gui leaned on the railing, holding a can of cola, the strong wind lifting her white coat and flipping her ID badge.
“Teacher Lu, will I never be able to catch up to you?”
Lu Qingshi stood with her hands in her white coat pockets, wearing no ID badge, simply dressed in white, with only a necklace made from a bullet casing around her neck.
She had worn it constantly, never removing it even during the hardest times.
“You still have a chance.”
She turned to look at her.
Lu Qingshi stepped closer, resting her hands on the railing, gazing into the void as peace doves spread their snow-white wings across the skyscrapers.
How wonderful it was to live in peaceful times. All that chaos of war and rain of bullets seemed like just a dream.
“I can’t perform surgery anymore.”
Yu Gui instantly gripped the can tighter: “How—”
Lu Qingshi turned to face her, a faint smile on her lips: “So, you still have a chance to catch up to me.”
“Are you giving up clinical medicine?”
At her departure, Yu Gui no longer chased after her but asked one more question.
Lu Qingshi lowered her eyes: “Whether clinical practice, research, or teaching, I’ve only ever had one goal—”
“To heal the sick and save lives.”
At the World E-Sports Championship, Fang Zhiyou won another gold medal for L Team. Perhaps because this was her farewell match in Korea, the massive stadium was packed. The audience unfurled huge banners with support messages in Chinese and Korean.
The young person standing in the spotlight again had matured considerably. She wanted to say something but her eyes welled up. Someone started applauding, and everyone shouted: “Rainbow Xi, keep going, we love you!!!”
Fang Zhiyou bowed in four directions with tears in her eyes, saying “thank you.”
This moment made history in Korean e-sports and appeared in newspapers.
Backstage, she had just removed the team logo headband and smoothed her short hair, the mirror reflecting her distinct features.
Someone knocked on the changing room door. She went out and shook hands goodbye with her former teammates one by one.
She had spent three happy years here – crying, laughing, fighting, striving, falling… finally standing at the world’s peak.
Her captain extended his fist – their pre-match ritual: “Zhiyou, next time we meet, we’ll be opponents.”
Fang Zhiyou bumped his fist lightly: “See you at the Jakarta Asian Games.”
Then, she would wear the five-starred red flag, fighting for the national team.
The thought of returning home slightly eased her sadness of parting.
Her Xiaogui, how… are you?
After attending the Emergency Medicine Annual Conference in Guangzhou, Yu Gui dragged her tired body to catch an international flight. While waiting, some children nearby were playing a famous mobile game.
Hearing they were being dominated by opponents, Yu Gui leaned over: “Here, let me try.”
The child hesitantly handed over the phone: “You? Can you handle it?”
Yu Gui raised an eyebrow: “Try and you’ll see.”
When she successfully destroyed the tower, the watching children burst into cheers. The child who had lent her the phone kept asking: “Auntie, you’re amazing! What do you do? Are you a professional player?”
Yu Gui smiled: “No, I’m a doctor.”
“Then how do you know how to play this so well?”
A nostalgic expression crossed Yu Gui’s face as she pursed her lips: “Because… a friend really loved playing it, and I wanted to try understanding her world.”
At the Jakarta Asian Games, the Chinese team defeated Chinese Taipei as expected, winning the first gold medal in e-sports history.
Everyone was cheering, especially for Fang Zhiyou who scored the highest points. The whole venue was in a frenzy. She could finally blend into the crowd like everyone else, openly cheering her name as just another fan.
On stage, she radiated brilliance; below, she had tears in her eyes.
When the venue quieted and the microphones went silent, the young woman in the Chinese team uniform suddenly looked over. Their gazes met as someone disappeared into the crowd.
Fang Zhiyou dropped the microphone and ran out after them.
A sudden scream rang out on the busy street: “Stop, thief!”
Xiang Nanke, who was on duty at the intersection, immediately gave chase.
At six in the afternoon, during rush hour, crowds surged across the road like waves. The red light came on, accompanied by sharp car horns.
The thief looked back, sweating profusely, his smug smile vanishing before it fully formed.
The agile police officer supported herself on the hood, leaped over the car’s front, and pursued directly through the traffic.
The thief ran stumbling in panic, with Xiang Nanke following closely, relentlessly pursuing.
Qin Xuan frowned hearing some commotion from the previous intersection. Ten seconds remained until the green light; she checked her watch idly.
Then she heard someone shout: “Stop, thief!”
Looking back, she saw a shabbily dressed man pushing through the crowd at high speed, with a police officer in hot pursuit, their face unclear.
Surprisingly, no one on the busy street helped.
The light turned green, but Qin Xuan didn’t move. She stuck out her foot, and the thief tripped spectacularly.
The pursuing officer caught up, panting: “Thank… thanks.”
As the words fell, both froze: “You…”
Qin Xuan’s expression stiffened – what an unfortunate encounter. She lifted her heel from the thief and looked away expressionlessly. Unexpectedly, the man suddenly sprang up, a knife flashing from his pocket.
“Watch out!” Xiang Nanke lunged forward, embracing her as the bright blade sliced through her shoulder, spraying blood.
In that instant, Qin Xuan remembered the gunshot she had fired at her on the seaside boardwalk, with similar blood spray, making her head buzz.
When she came to her senses, the thief had already been subdued by arriving colleagues, but Xiang Nanke was comforting her: “I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t cry, don’t cry…”
Qin Xuan grabbed the tissue from her hand and pressed it against her wound, exploding in anger: “For fuck’s sake, Xiang Nanke, are you fucking insane?!! Suddenly jumping out to get yourself killed, who the fuck asked you to save me…”
The person being scolded showed no displeasure, instead breaking into a smile as a long-absent warmth flowed through her chest.
Xiang Nanke knew that her Qin Xuan had returned.
Twenty years later.
Yu Gui was now an Associate Chief Physician, yet still arguing with the hospital director in his office.
Liu Changsheng had retired, and the new director was a kindly old man.
“Nonsense! How can a chief physician not teach? Moreover, the student assigned to you isn’t some hopeless case! They’re a genius who entered Tsinghua University Youth Class at fifteen…”
Yu Gui casually picked at her ear, slouching carelessly: “This genius you mention hasn’t even shown up to report in. Is there any point in keeping such an unpunctual student?”
The director was momentarily speechless: “You… get out!”
Being an official at this level had truly lost its meaning. Yu Gui sighed deeply as medical staff gathered around – well, time for ward rounds again.
She spun like a top, moving from the office to the wards in the early morning, then to the operating room, squeezed in lunch with a pharmaceutical representative, then back to specialist outpatient clinic until sunset, as dusk settled in.
The genius the director mentioned still hadn’t reported in.
Yu Gui rubbed her aching back – age was certainly catching up with her. She’d have to ask Zhiyou for a massage when she got home.
Speaking of geniuses, though, a certain person’s shadow flashed through her mind.
The no-longer-young chief physician, now with white at her temples, gazed at the setting sun outside, lost in thoughts of the past.
A knock sounded, and she sat up straight in her chair: “Come in.”
The visitor’s footsteps were light. Yu Gui flipped open a medical record and began writing – one of many heavy administrative duties.
“I’m sorry, Teacher Yu, I’m reporting in.”
The clear voice typical of youth. Yu Gui didn’t look up, pointing out the window: “Do you know how late you are?”
“I’m sorry, the flight was delayed, and on my way here I saw someone faint, so I… I…”
Yu Gui’s pen paused: “Before getting your medical license—”
Why did these words feel so familiar?
Seeing the student’s head bowed like an ostrich, repeatedly apologizing, Yu Gui’s heart softened. She took out the student’s resume from her drawer.
Opening it—
“What’s your name?”
“Nianqing, I’m Gu Nianqing.”
Yu Gui froze.
The young person raised their head and flashed a bright smile, with red lips and white teeth, delicate features, as if carved from the same mold as someone from her memories.
Those eyes were just as dark and bright, exactly like Lu Qingshi’s.
Her hair was tied in a ponytail, slightly wavy, with a natural light brown-yellow tint indicating her mixed heritage.
Her features were distinctly defined, and she stood perfectly straight, wearing a simple athletic t-shirt with a bullet casing necklace.
The whole person radiated positivity and optimism. Yu Gui felt dazed – who exactly was standing here?
Seeing her unusual expression, Gu Nianqing asked curiously: “Teacher Yu, is something wrong?”
Yu Gui came back to herself, signing the documents handed to her: “Nothing. Go to the medical office to get your white coat and IC card. From now on, you’re my student.”
Watching the young person bounce away, Yu Gui curled up in her chair, muttering: “Nianqing, Gu Nianqing, it’s a good name.”
LP: Main text done! 9 Extra chapters to go~
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