A Kiss
The Skin That Was Kissed
The skin on the neck is pure and flawless. As one gets closer, strands of fresh fragrance drift into the nostrils, refreshing like the grass and trees in the mountains, serene like the dawn’s first light.
The enclosed space is extremely quiet, the light enveloping the silhouettes of the two people. Jian Qing closes her eyes, undistracted, gently inhaling the breath of the person lost in sleep.
The tip of her nose touches the skin of the neck, a delicate and soft sensation that makes one reluctant to part.
She gently rubs against it, unable to resist moving closer to the lips, a tender kiss about to fall, hesitating for a second, and then withdrawing with restraint.
She pulls away from each other, sitting at the head of the bed, lowering her gaze and carefully examining the sleeping person’s features in the light.
With dark brows and vermilion lips, skin like creamy jade, a small brown mole at the corner of her eye, she inexplicably evokes sympathy.
She gazes at the person on the bed, thinking to herself, if Ruan Xi had lived to this age, her brows and eyes would have matured, and she would surely look just as beautiful.
The person in slumber suddenly moved her brows, a slight motion that passed fleetingly.
Jian Qing took in every movement, remaining silent for a moment before feigning a call, “Awake? Go back to your room to sleep.”
Lu Yinxi remained motionless, her breath long and peaceful, as if she were still deeply asleep.
Jian Qing grabbed her wrist, her fingers resting on Lu Yinxi’s pulse.
The pulse thumped, beating faster and faster.
“Still pretending?”
Knowing she had been seen through, Lu Yinxi opened her eyes, looking at Jian Qing by the bedside, her cheeks gradually turning red.
She turned away, facing the screen, staring at the flowing cursive script that adorned it, remaining silent.
【Heaven and earth are unkind; they regard all things as mere fodder.】1
The strokes were powerful, elegant like a startled swan, agile like a swimming dragon.
Who wrote this?
Jian Qing gazed at Lu Yinxi’s back, with a thousand words she didn’t know where to begin.
Wanting to explain something, yet feeling that those past experiences were too painful, she didn’t want to peel them open.
She was used to silence, so she responded with silence.
Suddenly, Lu Yinxi turned back, gently tugging at the corner of her clothes: “Please don’t do bad things in the future, okay?”
Jian Qing grasped her hand, holding it in hers, soft as if without bones.
She answered her softly: “Okay.”
Without asking the reason, unclear about the cause and effect, she agreed to her request.
Lu Yinxi smiled and clasped her hand back, using the leverage to sit up, crossing her legs on the small bed, murmuring, “I just had a very long dream. In the dream, you did a lot of terrible things, and everyone was cursing you; the police were going to catch you.”
Jian Qing asked, “What about you?”
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“Me? I didn’t know what to do; I cried for a long time, feeling sad and angry at your lack of ambition. I didn’t want to cover for you, wanting to eliminate the harm to the people, but I also couldn’t bear to see you go to prison, so I chose to die with you…”
Jian Qing raised an eyebrow lightly: “Dismissing family ties for the greater good?”
“Family?” Lu Yinxi chuckled, lowering her head. After thinking for a moment, she looked up at Jian Qing seriously and said, “Here, you treat me well, and I can feel it. You are the only person close to me, now and in the future.”
She couldn’t confess to Jian Qing, saying she liked her, saying she loved her, or elevate their ambiguous relationship to that of lovers, because she wasn’t sure if she could accompany her for a lifetime.
But she wanted to express this unique feeling.
In this world, she would never get so close to another person; Jian Qing was the only one for her.
If Jian Qing truly became an unforgivable villain in the end, she wouldn’t entrust that to anyone else; she would personally deal with this villain.
Jian Qing wrapped her arms around Lu Yinxi, who obediently turned around, and they exchanged glances.
The hand that was resting on her shoulder moved up to hold her head. Lu Yinxi didn’t struggle, still allowing herself to be embraced, her body leaning slightly forward, her head hanging down.
Jian Qing lowered her head slightly, their foreheads touching, and she whispered a promise: “I won’t go back. I’ll just be a doctor, obediently treating and saving people, not doing bad things, not getting involved in power struggles. Is that reassuring?”
She rarely showed her emotions and was usually taciturn.
Hearing her say such comforting words was rare, causing Lu Yinxi to close her eyes. Her nose felt a bit sour as joy and bitterness intertwined, leaving her heart in a complex state.
She knew she was someone Jian Qing cared about; it was because of this care that she received this promise…
Suddenly, a cool, soft sensation fell on her forehead. Lu Yinxi froze, her thoughts momentarily halted like a stopped clock, and she instantly stopped thinking.
It was a kiss.
A kiss that landed on her forehead.
Lu Yinxi wanted to open her eyes and see Jian Qing’s expression, but she didn’t dare to, fearing this might be a dream.
Fearing that she might truly fall in love with Jian Qing, afraid that this love was just an illusion, a castle in the air, and worried that when she woke up, nothing would exist here…
Lu Yinxi remained silent for a long time. Jian Qing let go of her, thinking she had scared her, stood up, and smiled, “Silly.”
It was just a kiss; she had no intention of really doing anything to her.
“Go rest in your room; I’m going to wash up.”
With that, Jian Qing turned and left the study.
Lu Yinxi slowly opened her eyes, raised her hand, and touched the skin that had been kissed, silently savoring it in her heart.
The next day, at the hospital.
Doctors and nurses started looking for patients whose conditions had improved or who had completed chemotherapy as early as 7 in the morning, talking to their families and urging them to discharge as soon as possible.
Naturally, this garnered some dissatisfaction. During the formal rounds after 8:30, there were family members shouting: “You want us to leave before the patient is even well? Do you think the money we paid isn’t enough?”
“Aren’t you being too heartless? I waited two weeks just to get admitted; I brought my whole family from the county, and now you want us out after less than five days?”
A young doctor, unable to tolerate this, wanted to explain a thing or two, but was shut down by aggressive outbursts.
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The argument wasn’t about reason but rather about whose voice was louder.
Someone who has spent most of their life studying on campus naturally can’t compare to the battle-hardened uncles and aunties.
The doctors and nurses accustomed to this scene have learned to ignore it; they let the wind blow from all directions, as long as no one gets physical. If they are truly disruptive to their work, they call security, and if the shouting becomes too harsh, they refer the matter to the medical affairs department to handle doctor-patient disputes.
Sangsang was admitted a few days ago, and after finishing chemotherapy yesterday, today Jian Qing spoke with her family, reminding them to strengthen her nutrition and pay attention to exercise. Once the tumor shrinks a bit more, they can proceed with surgery to remove the lung tumor through thoracotomy.
Her parents were honest, unassuming migrant workers, and they had this one daughter. In order to pay for her treatment, they had spent all their savings and borrowed a pile of money from relatives and friends, but they never gave up.
Sangsang’s mother patted her chest and assured, “Don’t worry, doctor! I’ll make sure my daughter eats and drinks well. Even if I have to beg on the streets, I’ll gather enough money for her surgery and get her well!”
In fact, if there is hope for surgery, Jian Qing would apply for a rescue fund from the hospital on her behalf.
The rescue fund is limited and generally only allocated to patients with a high chance of recovery. It is rarely given to oncology patients, but since Sangsang is so young, if there is hope, she would certainly do her best to fight for it.
As it is still too early to say anything, Jian Qing wouldn’t give too much hope. She offered simple comfort, saying, “Let’s leave it at that for now. You two take care of yourselves.”
Sangsang’s mother, accustomed to Jian Qing’s cold demeanor, was taken aback by this rare show of human concern and replied repeatedly, “We will take care. Doctor, you should also pay attention to your rest. Don’t take to heart the harsh words from others; we understand. Other patients need to be admitted for treatment as well. If we don’t go out, they won’t be able to treat.”
“Thank you for your understanding.” Jian Qing pulled two boxes of Wangzai milk from the corner. “This is from Yinxi for Sangsang; let me pass it on.”
“Where is Doctor Xiaolu?”
“She’s finishing her internship; she went to take the group photo.”
“Oh, will we still be able to see her next time?”
“Who knows.”
“My daughter really likes her. I brought my daughter here to see her.”
“It’s okay, she’ll be back soon. You can wait in the ward, and I’ll let her know to come find you.”
The internship at the hospital was about to end, and the director of the film crew, along with the publicity and photography teams, came to visit the interns, capturing behind-the-scenes moments and group photos to prepare for the promotion of the medical drama.
This is a commemorative drama funded by national units, where the actors’ pay is not high, and it carries a strong thematic focus.
If it were an anti-war drama, it would be to promote patriotic spirit, similar to how, during times of international turbulence or on the anniversary of the War to Resist US Aggression and Aid Korea, there would be related films and documentaries produced; if it were a medical drama, it would aim to ease the intense doctor-patient conflicts in society. For example, during a shortage of pediatricians, the state would reopen admissions for pediatric specialties, and the film industry would respond by producing a drama centered around pediatric doctors.
This drama does not feature popular celebrities; the main characters are all skilled actors trained in the field, and most of the supporting roles are selected from film academies through auditions or recommendations from teachers. The atmosphere is less frenzied, and they can greet each other as senior and junior colleagues.
After finishing the group photo at the hospital entrance, Lu Yinxi skipped back to the department to find Jian Qing.
Jian Qing stuffed a few milk candies into her pocket. “I’m going to a consultation; Sangsang is being discharged.”
Leaving the hospital, it was uncertain when they would meet again. Lu Yinxi held a pocketful of candies as she went to the ward to say goodbye to the child.
Sangsang’s mother was packing up, preparing to be discharged, while Sangsang was getting dressed.
Lu Yinxi walked over and gave all the candies from her pocket to Sangsang, keeping only one for herself.
Sangsang asked, “Mom said that next time I come, I won’t be able to see you. Where are you going?”
Lu Yinxi said, “I’m going to film a show. When my show airs, you can see me on TV.”
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Sangsang grinned, “Will you become a big star?”
Lu Yinxi smiled and replied, “That’s hard to say. Some people become big stars by the age of twenty, while others switch careers right after graduation.”
Sangsang asked, “Can I meet you again in real life?”
Lu Yinxi nodded, “Of course! When will you be back in the hospital next time?”
“On the 15th of next month, I’ll come back for the IV drip.”
“Then I’ll come to find you to play on the evening of the 15th.”
Sangsang raised her pinky finger: “Pinky swear.”
Lu Yinxi hooked her pinky with hers: “Pinky swear, lying is for little dogs.”
After seeing them to the hospital entrance, Lu Yinxi waved goodbye.
They were as ordinary as could be, perhaps from impoverished backgrounds, perhaps not particularly attractive, perhaps with low levels of education, but when suffering fell upon them, the kindness, optimism, and resilience that people praised were embodied in them to the fullest extent.
Small yet great.
Footnotes
- “Heaven and earth are unkind; they regard all things as mere fodder” (天地不仁，以萬物為刍狗): A line from Laozi’s Tao Te Ching, reflecting a worldview that views nature as indifferent to human concerns.