Massage
“Oh, then go ahead and massage.”
Patients admitted to the ICU (Intensive Care Unit) are critically ill patients transferred from various departments, teetering on the edge of life and death.
Some are in a state of coma, never regaining consciousness. A junior doctor is specially assigned to stand by the bedside, constantly observing vital signs.
Those who wake up can hardly speak, only able to shakily write on a board to inform the nursing staff of their needs.
On the monitor screen, various lines and numbers are jumping, and bottles and bags of liquid are hung high, with the medicinal liquid being infused into the patient’s body through slender tubes.
The patients do not speak, but the ward is not quiet. The “beep beep” of medical equipment and the alarms of the ventilators can go off at any time.
Here, just like in the oncology department, it is a place that deals with death.
The difference is that the oncology department faces a prolonged, gradual death, while in the ICU, death can happen at any moment.
Family members are not allowed to accompany patients here. Nurses and nursing aides take care of the patients, and family members have 30 minutes of visiting time every afternoon.
Lu Yinxi could only enter in the morning because of her white coat.
She stayed for only two minutes before taking off her isolation gown and leaving.
Outside the ICU, there are a few scattered family members keeping vigil. They crane their necks and peer through the thick door and frosted glass, trying to catch a glimpse of their loved ones.
An officer from the hospital’s publicity department donned an isolation gown, carried a camera inside, and took photos of He Bei by the bedside while interviewing her parents.
The stories of hospital staff performing heroic deeds, emergency rescues, and the extreme efforts of the cardiology and ECMO teams have already spread within the hospital.
—These are the favorite promotional materials for the hospital leaders.
To maximize the impact, publicity is not just limited to within the hospital; it must also be featured in newspapers, such as the city daily and evening papers, and even on local television stations.
This is the traditional propaganda model favored by the older generation, characterized by being “red and expert” (又紅又專, a phrase referring to being both ideologically sound and professionally competent, often used during the Cultural Revolution in China).
Since the post-90s and post-95s have entered the workforce, various publicity methods have become more down-to-earth. Platforms like Weibo, Douyin (the Chinese version of TikTok), WeChat public accounts, and short videos are all utilized.
Sometimes a viral rap video is produced, and publicity departments from hospitals all over the country come to study and learn from it.
Every hospital wants to expand its recognition, so they often enjoy collaborating with film crews on movies and documentaries.
When Lu Yinxi returned to the oncology ward, she saw Jian Qing wearing a mask, standing with a straight back in the corridor of the ward, being interviewed by a local journalist.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lu Yinxi and signaled the photographer to pause the shoot. She called Lu Yinxi over and introduced her to the reporter with a serious demeanor: “She is the first witness. At the time, she noticed the patient’s unusual expression and pulled me over to perform CPR. For specific details, you can ask her; I have other patients to attend to.”
Having navigated the entertainment industry for a few years, Lu Yinxi had developed a keen sense for publicity. She took off her mask, revealed her signature smile, found the best angle, and started chatting with the reporter in front of the camera.
She guessed that this was an opportunity Jian Qing had left for her. Otherwise, given that cube of ice’s personality, she might not have agreed to the interview.
Lu Yinxi recounted the entire incident from beginning to end. She even spent considerable time hand-drawing some comic illustrations on colds, viral myocarditis, and CPR for educational purposes.
During the lunch break at noon, the two had a meal in the cafeteria and then went home to rest.
Jian Qing changed into a robe and basked in the winter sun on the balcony. Lu Yinxi clung to her, sitting beside her, and basked along with her.
The sun shone warmly on them. Jian Qing peeled a mandarin orange and, holding it, pretended to offer it to Lu Yinxi’s lips.
Lu Yinxi glanced at her, then lowered her head to look at the slender, fair fingers in front of her, inhaling the citrus fragrance. A faint smile spread in her eyes, a bit shy.
She opened her mouth, ready to take a bite.
“Just wanted you to smell it,” Jian Qing quickly withdrew her hand and popped the mandarin orange into her own mouth.
Like teasing a cat.
Lu Yinxi snorted lightly, turned her head away, and swiftly peeled an orange herself in a few quick motions, eating it before scolding Jian Qing: “Childish.”
Jian Qing remained unfazed and asked, “Why aren’t you sleeping? Why are you clinging to me?”
(If you're not reading on littlepandatranslations.com, it means this has been stolen)
Lu Yinxi turned her gaze back and said earnestly, “I want to see your knees.”
Jian Qing deliberately misinterpreted her words: “You want to see my legs?”
“I said knees!”
Jian Qing thought about how a few days ago, she charged for hugs and even set a price for herself. With a blank expression, she said, “Two hundred yuan per time. No extra charges for up to one minute. After one minute, an additional one hundred yuan for every extra two minutes of looking.”
She doubled her own price.
Lu Yinxi pointed at Jian Qing’s knee and asked, word by word, “Are your knees made of gold?”
Jian Qing didn’t answer.
Look if you want, or don’t.
Lu Yinxi opened the payment app and transferred two hundred and fifty yuan to Jian Qing: “I’ll just look for two minutes.”
Jian Qing accepted the money, hesitated for a second, and lifted the hem of her robe.
From her calf, she lifted it all the way up to her knee, revealing a stretch of immaculate, flawless skin.
She was tall, with straight and slender legs. Under the sunlight, her skin was so white it almost reflected light.
Lu Yinxi was stunned for a moment, then moved her gaze to her knee.
Her knee was covered in bruises.
Yesterday, she knelt on the ground for over ten minutes trying to resuscitate someone. With the amount of pressure she applied, her knees, acting as the fulcrum, inevitably suffered some wear and tear.
Lu Yinxi’s heart ached with a dense, overwhelming pain. She gently touched her knee, “This… do you need some medicine?”
The warmth of her touch fell on her knee. Jian Qing looked away, “No need, the bruises will fade in a day or two.” She then let the hem of her robe fall back down, covering her calf, “You didn’t say you were going to touch, pay extra.”
At this moment, Lu Yinxi was filled with nothing but heartache, ignoring her teasing. “Isn’t my money all yours anyway? Left pocket in, right pocket out, what’s the point? How about I give you a massage to pay off the debt, alright?”
She had learned some massage techniques before, supposedly to help with sleep. She had never tried them on anyone else, so she decided to use Jian Qing as her first experiment.
Jian Qing adjusted her collar, her expression indifferent: “Are you going to hit me again?”
She hadn’t forgotten that resounding slap, nor the scar that still lingered on her palm.
Jian Qing’s thoughts jumped quickly, but Lu Yinxi immediately understood her implication and gritted her teeth, saying: “It’s just a simple massage, no accompanying sleep.”
“Oh, then go ahead and massage.”
“Massage in the room. If you’re out here and I massage you to sleep, I can’t carry you in.”
Jian Qing, dressed in a robe, walked in with graceful allure.
When she wore her regular clothes or her white lab coat, she exuded a cold and commanding presence, keeping people at a distance. Only at home, wrapped in a robe, did she reveal her full femininity.
Lu Yinxi followed behind her, thinking, this side of her, only I can see.
How wonderful.
Then, in a flash, feeling despicable and selfish.
If you know you should keep your distance, why get close?
In the past, when she acted in idol dramas, the male and female leads would deliberately keep their distance to avoid hurting each other, intentionally causing pain to themselves and, in turn, the audience.
She used to not understand why it had to be that way. The director said to act that way, so she did. The result was often exaggerated, and it remains a blemish on her career to this day.
Now, she somewhat understands.
If separation is inevitable, and you can’t see a future together, should you still get close?
Is it a greater harm to get close and then leave?
(If you're not reading on littlepandatranslations.com, it means this has been stolen)
Lu Yinxi purposely avoided these questions.
At this moment, she didn’t want to think about these things, much less intentionally hurt Jian Qing. She just wanted to be a little kinder to her.
“Is this pressure enough?”
Jian Qing lay at the foot of the bed while Lu Yinxi massaged her ears and scalp.
“Mm… a little lighter…”
Lu Yinxi’s movements were not skillful, causing Jian Qing some pain.
Jian Qing closed her eyes and said, “Is this your first time giving someone a massage? Are you using me as a guinea pig?”
Lu Yinxi smiled gently, “You found out.”
Jian Qing said no more.
Lu Yinxi gently poked her temple, “Are you angry?”
“No,” Jian Qing said lightly, “What’s there to be angry about? I’m not like you, always getting angry.”
Like a little pufferfish.
Lu Yinxi lightly slapped her forehead, “Who always gets angry?”
“Whoever responds is the one.”
“There’s only the two of us here.”
Jian Qing still maintained that cold and haughty expression: “So, do you want to do something that two people do?”
“You better shut up.” Lu Yinxi, with her thin skin, couldn’t compare to someone whose sense of morality was weak, lacking any semblance of being a role model.
Jian Qing smiled faintly, and then fell silent.
If she didn’t want to, she wouldn’t take liberties with her, only teasing her verbally.
As the atmosphere quieted down, the ambiguity floated in the air, making the bedroom ambiance even more delicate.
Lu Yinxi coughed lightly, breaking the silence: “A couple of days ago, I went back to school and rehearsed two short stories with my classmates.”
Jian Qing asked softly: “What stories?”
“One is 《The Little Mermaid》, and the other is 《The Truman Show》. You must have heard the story of the little mermaid and the prince, right? The mermaid falls in love with the prince, drinks a potion to turn her fish tail into legs, becoming a human like the prince, wanting to live in the same world as him. Unfortunately, the prince doesn’t fall in love with her, and in the end, she turns into sea foam.”
Jian Qing gradually grew sleepy, but there was still a hint of disdain in her tone: “I don’t need fairy tales to fall asleep.”
Lu Yinxi softly uttered an “oh,” and continued to massage her head: “Then I’ll tell you about 《The Truman Show》 another day.”
Jian Qing responded with a hum.
Lu Yinxi continued to massage for a while, and when Jian Qing fell asleep, she tucked her in.
Before leaving, Lu Yinxi stood up, stared at Jian Qing’s smooth and fair forehead, bent down, got close, her lips almost touching, but she stopped her movement, stood up again, and went back to her own room to sleep.
If she fell in love with Jian Qing, she would have to throw away her fish tail, turn into legs, and stay in this world.
She refused.
Once the TV station’s interview was broadcast, it sparked a lot of screen-licking discussions among netizens.
“I couldn’t hear a word she said; I was too busy looking at her face.”
“Just a 5-minute science video, but my mom asked why I watched it for half an hour.”
“Ah, the eyes of the first female doctor were also beautiful. Even though she was wearing a mask, you could tell she had the face of my dream lover!”
……
(If you're not reading on littlepandatranslations.com, it means this has been stolen)
Lu Yinxi’s camera presence was already exceptional; any angle captured could be used as a desktop wallpaper, and with the addition of vivid and lifelike hand-drawn illustrations, the program’s effectiveness was enhanced.
Popularizing knowledge about cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) happened to align perfectly with the country’s emphasis on guiding the public to learn mutual rescue skills. Various official media at all levels helped to repost the science content.
It once surged into the top three of the trending searches.
The trending square was filled with numerous blue Vs (verified accounts), and netizens under the trending topic were all licking their screens.
In this era where beauty is justice, the netizens’ attention was all drawn to her looks.
Lu Yinxi skillfully opened and registered a new account, got it verified, reposted the official media’s video, and uploaded her own science comics to attract followers.
This was her most familiar operation—making a living with her looks.
The next day, people from the publicity department came to the second oncology ward, relentlessly taking photos of Lu Yinxi, saying they wanted to write a special feature about her.
At noon, Wei Mingming was scrolling through her phone when she stumbled upon Lu Yinxi and exclaimed, “Whoa! Are you about to become famous? Is it still time for me to cling to your thigh? Should I keep a few more of your autographed photos to sell later?”
Lu Yinxi honestly replied, “If in a few days a lot of people start calling me, inviting me to sign contracts, become a streamer, or endorse some dubious products, then I might become a somewhat unknown internet celebrity. If I get a team to help manage me, I could stay popular longer. But it’s most likely that in a few days, there will be no trace of me; netizens have a three-minute enthusiasm.”
In this world, she didn’t have the wild ambition to be red across half the sky (achieve great fame). Even becoming a minor internet celebrity would be fine, using the fan economy to earn a little bit of money, allowing her to live independently in this world without relying on anyone, while waiting for the right time to return to reality. That would be enough.
Hearing this, Wei Mingming suddenly felt a chill down her neck. She turned her head and met her mentor’s cold gaze.
Jian Qing was staring at the way Wei Mingming was holding Lu Yinxi’s arm, her face as cold as frost.
Lol jealous. At least they seem to have that in common