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    Volume 2: Inheritance

    Kiss

    Truly… I really want to kiss her.

    A deathlike silence.

    Only the roaring of the river and intermittent sobbing could be heard.

    Xu Qiankun had a pile of cigarette butts at his feet, until he smoked the last cigarette from the pack, crumpled it, and casually tossed it to the ground.

    “How is it?” He leaned in to look at the images transmitted by the life detection device.

    Yu Gui raised her head from her arms, her eyes red.

    Liu Qingyun, who had always been the strong one in the team, kept pulling at his own hair: “It’s all my fault… it’s all my fault… why did I have to go out first…”

    The injured and Lu Qingshi were still inside, their whereabouts unknown, their fate uncertain. Radio calls hadn’t stopped since earlier, but there had been no response on her frequency.

    The technician shook his head. The images transmitted by the drone were pitch black. The far-infrared thermal imaging device mounted on the machine, similar to a snake’s heat-sensing capability (literally “heat pit,” referring to the infrared-sensing organs snakes use), relied on detecting the body temperature of organisms to sense their specific locations. No body temperature from any mammal meant no signs of life.

    Yu Gui rushed over to plead with him: “Please, try looking a bit deeper, Teacher Lu must still be alive, must still be alive!”

    The technician looked troubled: “I… I’ll try my best… to fly lower… but the lowest is five meters… any lower and the drone risks crashing.”

    “Got a light?” Qin Xuan leaned over, and Xiang Nanke lit her cigarette with a lighter.

    She sat down against the bridge railing, gently blowing out a smoke ring. The wind direction was poor, making her eyes sting.

    She rubbed her eyes, and tears fell without warning.

    “Are you crazy?! Look at her – does she even have that much blood left to lose?!”

    “I’m the medical team leader. If you have any complaints, you can report to the medical department when we get back.”

    “Isn’t staying alive the most urgent priority right now?!”

    “Living without quality is worse than death.”

    These two people, who usually opposed each other on medical opinions, actually had rare moments of harmony.

    “You think one can of coffee will make me forgive you?”

    “Then… I’ll buy Teacher Lu coffee for a whole year!”

    In her life, she had many fox and dog friends (meaning casual or unreliable friends), but only Lu Qingshi was her true confidante. She admired her medical skills, respected her character. Perhaps becoming close friends always involves some form of love, otherwise why wouldn’t she have the courage to even stand up and take a look? From the moment her fingertips felt a hint of moisture, her tears began flowing like a flood with opened floodgates, impossible to stop.

    Xiang Nanke gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace, offering silent comfort.

    “Director Xu, it’s bad, patient’s oxygen saturation is 90, we’re losing them,” another doctor reported, jumping down from the ambulance.

    “Increase oxygen flow, I’ll take a look,” Xu Qiankun yanked the stethoscope from his neck and climbed into the vehicle.

    The surgery wasn’t the problem; the issue was the poor environment. Organs exposed to air would inevitably face infection. Without rushing back to the hospital for antibiotic treatment, this life would also be lost.

    Xu Qiankun bit his teeth and jumped down from the vehicle: “Pack up, back to the hospital.”

    No one moved. He stamped his foot and repeated with heightened emphasis: “What are you all standing there for?! Let’s go quickly! There’s still a critically injured patient who needs urgent treatment in this vehicle!”

    Yu Gui slowly raised her head: “What do you mean? Are you giving up the search for Teacher Lu?!”

    “Is Lu Qingshi’s life worth more than other injured patients’?!”

    Xu Qiankun shouted, red-faced and neck bulging: “I haven’t given up on her! She’s the one who let us down! Look for yourself! Where are there any signs of life!”

    The iPad was thrown into the muddy water.

    Yu Gui, red-eyed, lunged forward but was firmly held back.

    Everyone knew he was speaking the truth, but no one wanted to accept this outcome. Everyone’s eyes were red, staring at him intently.

    Yu Gui shook off Chen Yi, grabbed an iron shovel lying nearby, and walked into the ruins without looking back.

    “Stop right there!” Xu Qiankun chased after her, shouting sternly. Looking at her tear-washed eyes, these words were meant not just for her, but for everyone present.

    “Yes, although we’ve never gotten along, honestly I really dislike her, but as long as there’s even a thread of hope, I would try to save her – that’s my duty as a doctor,” rainwater traced winding lines on his glasses as Xu Qiankun wiped them, patting the badge on his chest as he spoke loudly.

    “But beyond that, I’m also the department head, the leader! All your lives hang from my belt! My biggest mistake was letting her enter that tunnel! I’ve already lost an excellent associate chief physician, I can’t lose you all too!”

    Yu Gui gripped the iron shovel tightly, tilting her head slightly back, letting the rain trace lines down her face.

    When she first started her emergency department internship, she also disliked Lu Qingshi, because she always had a cold face and was dismissive of everyone.

    Silent as death when not speaking, sharp as a knife when speaking.

    Especially in the operating room, working alongside her was every doctor’s nightmare.

    Later she understood that Lu Qingshi wasn’t deliberately trying to scold anyone; she was solely focused on the patients’ wellbeing.

    During practice, there were chances to make up for mistakes, but on the operating table, a patient’s life only comes once.

    She couldn’t tolerate others making mistakes, and even less could she accept making mistakes herself.

    On many nights when she thought she was already studying hard by moonlight, Lu Qingshi would often be in the reference room reviewing case files or practicing in the simulation operating room.

    Her first glimpse of the softness beneath that hard exterior was when she knelt in the hallway, begging Zhou Yuetong’s parents to donate organs.

    That scene left her heart unsettled for a long time.

    It also sparked a strong impulse in her to stay here.

    To become someone like her.

    To become a doctor like her – someone teammates could rely on, someone capable of handling things independently.

    In some ways, Lu Qingshi was her teacher, her guide, the lighthouse illuminating her path forward.

    She was the most reassuring presence during every moment of panic and confusion.

    “Don’t fear blood, this is a path every doctor must walk.”

    She was the perfectly timed comfort in every moment of disappointment.

    “Even if you start earlier than others, having resources many wouldn’t dare to dream of, in the end – one must rely on oneself.”

    She was the warm current beneath the iceberg.

    “And you call yourself a doctor, don’t you know the optimal intervention time after occupational exposure is two hours?”

    “I’ll check your work in a month…”

    When the lighthouse went dark and the flagpole broke, Yu Gui felt an unprecedented sadness, suddenly feeling lost in the vast expanse of heaven and earth, not knowing where to go.

    The young person bent slightly, letting out sobs from deep in her throat for the first time.

    “In this rescue operation, we saved a total of two hundred and eighty-one injured people, with two hundred and seventy survivors and eleven deaths. With these results, I can say I’ve done justice to the white coat I wear; I’ve fulfilled my duty as a doctor.”

    “Now I must fulfill my duty as a leader – everyone, get in the vehicles immediately and safely transport the injured back to the hospital!”

    A pair of hands pushed away Xiang Nanke, and stumbling forward, Qin Xuan roughly yanked off her badge from her neck and slammed it into the muddy water.

    She then took off her white coat, carelessly throwing it to the ground, wearing only thin underclothes, becoming drenched like a drowned chicken.

    “I’m not from the Emergency Department, I don’t need to fulfill whatever duty you’re talking about. If you want me to abandon my friend, I’d rather shed this skin (meaning to quit).”

    Though usually hot-tempered, she spoke these words with a calm intensity.

    Under everyone’s watchful eyes, she turned toward the ruins and strode away with determined steps.

    A navy blue figure chased after her.

    Yu Gui also wiped the rain from her face, took off her cumbersome white coat, picked up the iron shovel, and left without looking back.

    But someone had already rushed ahead of her, a flame-blue silhouette passing by her like wind and fire, making her almost cry out: “Captain Gu… why haven’t you left yet?”

    Gu Yanzhi chipped at some large rocks with the iron shovel, causing more stones to fall from above. She simply threw aside the shovel and started digging with her hands: “I won’t leave until Qingshi comes out.”

    Fearing tools might cause a secondary collapse, others followed suit. Qin Xuan’s manicure broke off, bleeding profusely.

    Gu Yanzhi’s back was torn and bleeding, but she paid no attention, digging the fastest, her hands pulling out mud stained with blood.

    Yu Gui was even more affected, digging while crying, occasionally wiping tears with her shoulder, her whole face in disarray.

    He had said everything he needed to say, fulfilled all the responsibilities he should.

    Xu Qiankun sat in the vehicle, holding the door, looking at the faces below – some sad, some grieving, some dejected.

    “What about you all?”

    Hao Renjie clenched his fists and gave a slight bow: “Sorry.”

    After speaking, he too turned and ran toward the tunnel entrance.

    Liu Qingyun placed his badge on the vehicle: “I’m sorry, Director Xu.”

    Then came Chen Yi: “An anesthesiologist is a surgeon’s best partner. My textbooks never taught me to abandon my comrades-in-arms.”

    Several people turned and ran toward the tunnel entrance, while others followed him into the vehicle.

    Xu Qiankun didn’t stop them anymore. He leaned against the car door, seemingly exhausted.

    “Let’s go, driver.”

    The ambulance lit up its headlights and disappeared into the heavy rain, leaving dust behind.

    “Qingshi, Qingshi, Qingshi…” as if someone was calling her name tenderly and lingeringly by her ear.

    Her consciousness sank into a dark pool, some supernatural force continuously pulling her downward.

    Lu Qingshi had no strength to break free.

    She had been soaking here for a long time, long enough for her limbs to turn cold, long enough for her breathing to become increasingly heavy, long enough for her heartbeat to slow down.

    Finally, at some moment, it completely stopped beating.

    She floated like a duckweed in the sea of consciousness, and in her confused state, a voice broke through the light.

    “Qingshi, hold on, don’t die!”

    In that instant, the matching face also flashed in her mind.

    Perhaps when people are near death, there’s always a moment when they recall past events, those previously unnoticed details suddenly becoming incredibly clear.

    “I really feel like I’ve met you before.”

    Fire.

    Sky-covering, earth-spanning fire.

    Heat waves licked at the corners of her clothes.

    A figure threw themselves over her, pressing her down.

    “Are you alright?!”

    “I’m fine.”

    The sea level flipped over, endless white.

    “Why didn’t you save him?! Why?!”

    The doctor in the white coat smoothed the wrinkles in their collar.

    “I’m sorry, please accept my condolences.”

    The calm sea surface began to ripple (“起了波瀾” – metaphor for disruption of tranquility).

    “Fighting alongside Doctor Lu was enjoyable.”

    “You’re a doctor, yet you still hold such stereotypes?”

    “When people pass away, they become stars in the sky.”

    “Then what about nights without stars?”

    “Then they become stars in my heart.”

    A shooting star crossed the night sky, carrying light and oxygen as it fell into the deep sea.

    Thus all things began to revive, tangled vines grew from the seabed.

    “This world won’t remain dark forever. Doctor Lu is fighting against vast, boundless diseases with her own light and warmth.”

    “Everyone is nice to me because they want something from me. What about you? What do you want?”

    “I’m different from those people. I simply want to be good to you, without any purpose, because you’re worth it.”

    Drip-drop—

    Fine rain fell into the lake.

    Thump— thump-thump

    A long-absent sound.

    “Go find someone willing to bear the weight of your life, to share the burden of the life ahead.”

    Pain sensation revived within her body.

    The unconscious person slightly furrowed their brows.

    She heard the words that weren’t finished that day.

    “Qingshi… please share the weight of your life with me… I… like you…”

    An iron-rust taste surged up her throat.

    Lu Qingshi was awakened by choking on her own blood.

    After coughing up the congested blood stuck in her throat, she slowly opened her eyes, momentarily thinking she was in hell – why else would it be so dark?

    Until she felt the warm sensation beneath her body – human skin.

    She felt around again.

    It was that young man, and he wasn’t dead either.

    Lu Qingshi suddenly choked up – in such a place, it was the patient’s body temperature that gave her immense support.

    She thought of Gu Yanzhi, thought of her deceased parents, thought of the son who left her…

    And also thought of that little dog that stayed by its owner’s side waiting for rescuers to arrive.

    Everyone was fighting desperately to stay alive, and she too, couldn’t die.

    After her vision gradually adjusted to the darkness, she discovered she was trapped under fallen rocks. When the landslide occurred, she had used her body to protect this young man, which was why his vital signs remained stable.

    The communicator was lost somewhere, but by her estimation, they shouldn’t be far from the tunnel entrance – they just needed to keep crawling forward.

    Lu Qingshi bound herself to the stretcher with bandages. With each crawl forward she made, the stretcher moved a step; every inch of ground she passed was marked with spots of blood.

    She didn’t know how long passed like this – perhaps one hour, two hours, or even a day…

    Many times Lu Qingshi wanted to give up, but looking back at the young man would infuse courage back into her body.

    It didn’t matter if she died, but she had to get the patient out safely.

    Moreover, there was still a feeling she hadn’t properly faced yet.

    Nine o’clock at night, four hours had passed since the explosion.

    During these four hours, they never gave up calling for her, never gave up trying to rescue her.

    Gu Yanzhi’s voice had gone hoarse, her entire hand looked as if it had been soaked in blood.

    While others took brief rests, she remained hunched over the ruins, using her bare hands to clear an escape path for her.

    Everyone knew there might be no hope, but no one tried to stop her somewhat frantic behavior.

    Sometimes even knowing the result is futile, people seek nothing more than peace of mind.

    This might be true for others, but for Gu Yanzhi, approaching thirty years old, she had finally found someone who made her worry deeply.

    With her, she experienced the bittersweet feelings she’d never known before; she had painted a vibrant stroke on her blank life.

    If Lu Qingshi were to pass away now, she would live the rest of her life bearing this regret.

    No, just thinking about it, she felt she might not have the courage to face tomorrow’s sun.

    It was Lu Qingshi who saved her from death’s hands, who gave her a second life. Her heartbeat pulsed because of her, her existence was vibrant because of her.

    Before, it was always her saving her; now it was her turn to save her.

    She had no strength left.

    The taste of blood continuously surged up her throat.

    Lu Qingshi coughed up bloody foam; she knew there must be internal organ damage, but wasn’t sure if it was her lungs, liver, or stomach.

    Her limbs felt heavy as if filled with lead, and she began taking large gulps of the scarce oxygen in the air.

    Lu Qingshi lay on her back on the rough gravel, and just as she was about to close her eyes, a beam of light split the darkness.

    People!

    It was flashlight beam!

    She gritted her teeth and got up again, dragging the stretcher forward. Her palms were scraped raw, the fabric at her knees worn to shreds, each step bringing heart-piercing pain.

    “Qingshi!” Finally, just as she was about to collapse, a pair of hands reached through the darkness and steadily supported her.

    Lu Qingshi felt she could rest easy now: “You came.”

    “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I came too late…” Gu Yanzhi knelt on the ground, pulling her into an embrace, kissing her blood-stained face, hot tears falling into the hollow of her neck.

    Lu Qingshi was stunned for a moment. This time she didn’t push her away, but slowly returned the embrace after a long while.

    “Thank you.”

    This seemingly random thank you contained too many words she wanted to say.

    When she was closest to death, it was Gu Yanzhi’s words that pulled her back from the abyss.

    She was grateful to her, truly and deeply grateful, and slightly addicted to the warmth of her embrace. Although both were in terrible shape now, she still buried her head in the crook of her neck, taking a deep breath of the scent mixed with sweat and earth.

    Being alive felt so good.

    In the silent, dark moment before others caught up.

    Gu Yanzhi gently held her head, brushed away the loose hair from her forehead, looking at her dark pupils reflecting countless stars, where her shadow resided.

    They silently gazed at each other, both shedding tears simultaneously.

    Only they knew how close they had come to missing each other forever.

    “Don’t cry, everything’s fine now.”

    Gu Yanzhi wiped her hands on a clean spot on her chest before wiping away Lu Qingshi’s tears, feeling the rough calluses on her palm.

    Lu Qingshi gently closed her eyes.

    A kiss light as goose down fell on her forehead.

    Lu Qingshi’s eyelashes trembled slightly.

    She felt somewhat nervous.

    Gu Yanzhi swallowed, tightening her hand on her waist.

    Really… wanted to kiss her.

    And… do something more?

    But others didn’t give her the chance, as they came running in with their flashlights.

    Yu Gui wept with joy: “Thank goodness, Teacher Lu, it’s so wonderful that you’re safe.”

    Qin Xuan cried as she threw herself into her arms: “Qingshi, wuu wuu… it’s so good you’re safe, I’ll buy you as much coffee as you want from now on, wuu wuu…”

    Lu Qingshi didn’t push her away this time, perhaps because she had no strength, or perhaps because she simply didn’t want to.

    Looking at all these faces – some joyful, some excited, some tear-stained – a genuine smile appeared on her face.

    “I’m fine, let’s get the injured patient out first.”

    When the group carried the stretcher, with Gu Yanzhi supporting her limping form out of the tunnel entrance, after what seemed like forever, the rain cleared and clouds dispersed.

    The dark clouds parted in the sky, revealing the shy moon’s slightly dim face.

    The rain had finally stopped.

    They supported each other – Hao Renjie and Liu Qingyun carrying the stretcher, Xiang Nanke walking in front, Chen Yi supporting from behind, Yu Gui holding the IV bag, Qin Xuan and Gu Yanzhi supporting Lu Qingshi on either side.

    Behind them lay endless ruins, but before them stretched a bright, clear path.

    Like a slow-motion movie replay, the moon rose above their heads, each step drawn out long, their faces baptized by blood and tears, bearing the joy of survivors.

    Yu Gui thought she would never forget this moment, never forget these people beside her.

    What surprised her even more was that on the mountain road, headlights blazed bright, and Xu Qiankun jumped down from the ambulance, yanking open the door.

    “What are you standing around for? Get in quickly!”

    Liu Qingyun smiled: “Director Xu, didn’t you go back?”

    “Don’t mention it – our drivers were all too fatigued to drive. After taking me back, no one was willing to come here. If I hadn’t come, wouldn’t you all be stranded here? Dr. Lu really needs to thank me properly this time.”

    Still as vainglorious and face-conscious (describing someone who cares excessively about reputation) as ever.

    Everyone smiled slightly, loading the patient into the ambulance before getting in one by one. Those who couldn’t fit went to ride in Officer Xiang Nanke’s police car.

    Hao Renjie scrambled down from the ambulance: “Officer Xiang, take me along!”

    “Me too, me, me as well!”

    Chen Yi and Liu Qingyun also ran over. Gu Yanzhi felt somewhat awkward: “Um… Yu Gui… you sit here.”

    “No, no, no, it’s too crowded here, and Dr. Lu is injured too. Wait for me, Sister Good Person!!!”

    Qin Xuan slammed the car door shut, both front and back doors locking simultaneously. Xiang Nanke spread her hands helplessly.

    Qin Xuan lowered the window: “Xiaogui, we’re full here.”

    The back seat could clearly fit one more person, and everyone nodded in agreement.

    Yu Gui ran back crying.

    She! Really! Did! Not! Want! To! Be! A! Third! Wheel!

    “Everyone settled? Getting ready to drive.”

    The car cabin swayed slightly, and Lu Qingshi’s head rested on Gu Yanzhi’s shoulder.

    The fire safety instructor, already sitting formally upright, became even more nervous, licking her lips: “What’s wrong, Qingshi?”

    Perhaps due to the stuffy car cabin, her forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat, her face somewhat pale, her eyes half-open: “Sleepy…”

    That single word seemed to drain all her strength.

    Gu Yanzhi placed her hand on her forehead – it felt cool.

    She took a clean white coat from beside her and draped it over her: “Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”

    Lu Qingshi, ignoring Yu Gui’s suggestive glances, pulled down her hand, and their hands tightly intertwined.

    “No… just… tired…”

    “Then let me hold you while you sleep for a while.”

    She laid her flat across her lap, one arm around her waist to keep her secure.

    Lu Qingshi’s face showed a weak smile, like a campsis flower at the end of its bloom.

    “Mm.”

    Gu Yanzhi’s heart skipped a beat, but soon Lu Qingshi’s breathing became steady as she fell into deep sleep.

    Yu Gui watched through the window as the scenery changed from lush forests to city skyscrapers, finally breathing a sigh of relief.

    Wonder how things are over there…

    She was somewhat impatient to return home, to that damp and cramped home that belonged to her and Fang Zhiyou.

    As Renji Medical University’s sign came into view, Gu Yanzhi gently shook her shoulder: “Qingshi, wake up, we’ve arrived.”

    Yu Gui was the first to jump out of the car.

    There was no response from her.

    That slight bad feeling intensified, and Gu Yanzhi gently shook her again.

    “Qingshi?”

    Her head suddenly tilted to the side, lying there silently as if breathing had stopped.

    “QINGSHI!!!”



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