An hour later, back at her studio, Yu Tian held her still-burning face while staring at the livestream replay footage of herself and Yan Ming kissing, still feeling flustered with heat.
What had gotten into her?
How did she suddenly seem possessed, doing something so outrageous?
However, the unexpected attention and traffic brought weren’t entirely bad.
Yu Tian’s social media account reached a traffic peak, and her share of revenue and tips from that night’s livestream gala could probably match her income from an entire year.
Besides using part of the money to redecorate her studio and temporarily rent a small apartment for her mother before her tenant moved out, the rest…
Yu Tian had long had plans for the remainder.
That young patient of Yan Ming’s who, like Xiao Ling, suffered from retinoblastoma had already raised enough for surgery with Yan Ming’s help, but the child’s post-operative care would also cost money. Plus, these parents had traveled all the way from a small mountain village to Rong City to get the best medical care for their child, with considerable travel expenses.
Originally, thinking of doing social media medical education was to compensate for her regret of not being able to practice medicine. Now with this unexpected income, Yu Tian wanted to use it as meaningfully as possible.
Yan Ming saved lives as a doctor, while she was willing to become a doctor’s assistant, clearing medical misconceptions for more people, building bridges between doctors and patients, and using social media and internet influence to spread the concept of patient assistance.
Yu Tian seemed to finally rediscover some of her original entrepreneurial motivation and drive.
Being slandered and cursed didn’t matter—what mattered was truly doing something for patients and the general public.
She quickly submitted a withdrawal application, and almost the next morning, when the money reached her bank account, Yu Tian rushed excitedly to the hospital.
But though Yan Ming had neither an outpatient clinic nor a surgery scheduled today, he wasn’t in his office.
Yu Tian was about to call Yan Ming when she ran into Qi Sihao, who looked hurried.
“Where’s Yan Ming? An emergency meeting?”
Qi Sihao was startled, not expecting to encounter Yu Tian.
Only then did Yu Tian notice Qi Sihao’s grave expression. Before she could ask, Qi Sihao grabbed her and quickly walked through the corridor.
“It’s Xiao Ling—she’s dying. Yan Ming went over.”
Now Yu Tian was surprised. When Xiao Ling was discharged, her physical indicators showed no point in further surgery. When Xiao Ling’s father handled discharge, he intended to let the child peacefully spend her final time at home rather than in the cold hospital. Why had they come back for emergency treatment?
What puzzled Yu Tian more was that although Xiao Ling originally had retinoblastoma with subsequent recurrence, the most fatal aspect was multiple malignant tumor metastases. Even for emergency treatment, it shouldn’t involve Yan Ming—it should be oncology specialists.
“Not emergency treatment—to declare death.”
Qi Sihao, usually joking around with a grin, rarely had reddened eyes: “Xiao Ling and her father signed an organ donation agreement. Now Xiao Ling has almost reached donor status, and human organ tissue teams have been notified to stand by.”
The words “donor status” told Yu Tian what they meant.
So Yan Ming wasn’t going to rescue but to say goodbye.
Yu Tian’s heart didn’t know how to feel.
She knew Xiao Ling’s weight in Yan Ming’s heart and inevitably thought of Xiao Ling’s strong, optimistic face. This child’s journey through life had been filled with suffering, yet misfortune always found the afflicted. Yu Tian could hardly imagine the pain this child endured throughout her life, nor how to comfort Xiao Ling’s father, who had given everything yet still had to lose his child.
When Yu Tian followed Qi Sihao outside the operating room, she found Yan Ming also silently waiting with pressed lips.
Unable to enter the operating room, he could only wait outside, his handsome face showing undisguised sadness and regret.
When startled by Qi Sihao and Yu Tian’s footsteps, Yan Ming turned around. Yu Tian noticed his eyes were also slightly red, showing helpless frustration and defeated sadness despite trying hard to endure.
Every farewell was so difficult.
Yan Ming was probably again doubting his previous behavior of persuading the child and family not to give up.
After a long yet brief wait, the operating room door finally opened. Xiao Ling’s father shuffled out, his rough, aged hands uncontrollably wiping tears. This man, who had never shed tears for life’s hardships, now cried like a child.
He looked up and, through tearful eyes, saw Yan Ming stumbling over.
Yu Tian heard his hoarse voice—
“Dr. Yan, the child is gone. She left peacefully. According to her wishes, I donated all her organs that could be donated, including the usable cornea from her remaining eye. The doctor said Xiao Ling had malignant eye tumors, so the good cornea can’t be transplanted to others, but can be donated for your medical research and teaching. Including other organs in the child’s body—anyway, those that can save lives should save lives, and those that can’t should let the child contribute to research, which is good too.”
Xiao Ling’s father wiped his tears: “If Xiao Ling’s eyes can help you research better treatments for eye diseases, it would bring light to more people.”
“I’m sorry.”
Yan Ming’s voice was low and suppressed, almost instinctively wanting to apologize.
He didn’t know what he was apologizing for—whether for not being able to return a healthy child, for not preventing the disease recurrence, or for the prolonged suffering his encouragement not to give up treatment had brought this family.
His heart was just filled with regret and confusion.
The comfort Yu Tian had once given him, the renewed firm belief, seemed thin and fragile before real death.
“The child’s funeral expenses, if…”
“Not needed, not needed.” Xiao Ling’s father wiped his tears and directly interrupted Yan Ming’s words. “Dr. Yan, don’t say sorry to me. What do you have to be sorry for? It should be me and Xiao Ling thanking you—thank you for not giving up on my child then, letting her live several more years.”
This middle-aged man, bent by life’s burdens, took out a crumpled letter from his pants pocket and almost reverently handed it to Yan Ming: “This is what Xiao Ling wrote by hand a few days ago. She insisted I give it to you. She didn’t know then that she would… She wanted to give it to you in person, but now I can only deliver it.”
Yan Ming rarely lost composure. After years of practicing medicine and witnessing various deaths, no matter how great his inner regret and sadness, Yan Ming could maintain a calm, steady appearance.
However, opening Xiao Ling’s letter and seeing the child’s naive handwriting mixed with pinyin, reading these simple yet weighty words, Yan Ming could no longer maintain composure.
“Yan Ming gege:
I’ve always wanted to tell you, I thank you so much. Because of you, I grew up, learned to write, didn’t die at two or three, got to eat so many delicious things, met you all, happily had such a wonderful birthday, and accompanied Dad through four more of his birthdays, eating birthday noodles four times.
I always remember the cotton candy, roasted chestnuts, radish pancakes, cake, candied hawthorn, mooncakes I ate before. Two years ago I even saw lantern festivals, Dad took me to night markets, we went to flower shops, visited pet stores. I touched little hamsters and kittens—I loved them so much, but because we always lived in hospitals and rented rooms, we couldn’t buy them to raise. But Dad took me to the zoo several times…”
Like children her age, Xiao Ling’s letter had no strict timeline or logic, writing whatever came to mind without a rigorous essay format. Yet Yan Ming was deeply moved reading her scattered memories of delicious food and fun experiences, as if Xiao Ling still stood beside him with her remaining clear eye, innocently sharing sweet life moments like any healthy child, with no shadow of illness in her eyes.
Yan Ming suppressed his emotions and continued reading. Xiao Ling had almost recalled every happy and moving moment from these years.
Though fighting illness was the main theme of her life these years, she never mentioned those pale, painful moments spent in hospital beds.
“Yan Ming gege, you always encouraged me not to give up fighting, not to give up treatment, to work hard and try. I want to tell you a secret—I never gave up until the end.
When hospitalized, I heard nurse aunties mention organ donation. I already had Dad help me sign the forms. My body might be like a broken machine going back for repairs, but many parts inside me are good.
So my organs will go to new bodies and continue fighting for me.
Those who can’t go can be used for your research, working hard to develop new treatment methods for the future, fighting alongside you, doctors.
Yan Ming gege, I listened to you! I never gave up treatment and never gave up fighting! Next time you see me, you must give me a whole sheet of Wonder Woman stickers!
Could you please help remove my good cornea and give it to someone who needs it? Can you tell the doctors who will use it for research in the future not to give up treating any patient, not to give up researching cures for any eye disease, and together with my cornea, work hard to bring light to many more people in the future, fighting together and never giving up?
Thank you for not giving up on me, letting me live these extra years, letting me see the world, getting many things I might never have had the chance to get, meeting new friends, and accompanying Dad longer.
Now I’m going to sleep. I’m hanging up now, bye-bye!”
Reading to the end, Yan Ming finally lost control.
He felt ashamed.
A patient like Xiao Ling, despite enduring illness and pain, still saw only sunshine and beauty, while he had been pretentiously confused, even doubting whether the decision to have Xiao Ling persist with treatment was correct, superficially judging Xiao Ling’s life value from ordinary people’s perspectives with a superior attitude.
Yu Tian, besides Yan Ming, had also finished reading Xiao Ling’s letter and was already crying uncontrollably.
“‘It’s not about whether it’s worth it, but what you believe in.'” Yu Tian looked at Yan Ming. “That’s a line from Wonder Woman. Maybe for doctors, it’s the same. Not judging whether it’s worth it, but what doctors should believe in.”
A child just in elementary school could have the courage to face illness directly, could firmly decide on organ donation before death, could let part of her body continue fighting in another form. What did doctors have to be confused about?
Not giving up on any patient was inherently the right thing to do.
Yan Ming’s brief hesitations, occasional confusion, and sometimes unavoidable fatigue suddenly became clear because of the letter in his hands, like a forest after the sun came out and dispersed all fog, regaining vibrant life force.
“Dr. Yan, I’ve also always wanted to thank you in person. I’m not educated and can’t say beautiful words, but I want you to know I thank you for being willing to treat Xiao Ling, letting her accompany me for four more years.”
Xiao Ling’s father’s voice choked, but his eyes were firm and persistent: “These years, I indeed suffered a lot because of this child, running around for her medical expenses, often not knowing where the next meal would come from. To say I never regretted or wavered would be impossible.”
“But given another chance, even knowing the result would be the same, I’d still choose to have Xiao Ling not give up treatment. Because if I had given up then, Xiao Ling would have died then, and I’d never have peace my whole life, living in regret, feeling sorry for the child, constantly wondering if persisting a bit longer could have saved her.”
“Thanks to you not letting me give up treatment, willing not to give up on the child, willing to operate on her. Now I’ve made every effort, but couldn’t keep the child. I’m so heartbroken I feel like dying, but I know there’s no helping it. I did everything I should have done. I have no regrets or guilt, won’t feel sorry for the child anymore. Later, when I die and meet Xiao Ling and her mother, I won’t be unable to lift my head.”
Xiao Ling’s father cried repeatedly but still gripped Yan Ming’s hand, continuing: “Now the child is gone. Before leaving, she was very peaceful, feeling the extra years were happy—that’s enough. Dr. Yan, with the child saying this, it’s enough. I’m at peace.”
“Xiao Ling is a sensible child. She wanted to donate organs—this was her final wish. I must fulfill it. To accompany her, I also signed an organ donation consent form. Along this journey, we received much care from Dr. Yan and the hospital nurses. I have no money or skills and can’t do much, so I can only use this method to contribute, hoping you can save more patients in the future, letting more children discover illness early and have surgery early, instead of like Xiao Ling.”
Xiao Ling’s father’s eyes reddened as he held Yan Ming’s hand and thanked him for a long time before turning and staggering away.
This man was undoubtedly almost crushed by life’s continuous heavy blows—exhaustion, pain, and poverty engulfed him. But Yu Tian and Yan Ming both knew that because he never gave up treatment for his child, Xiao Ling’s father had a clear conscience. Compared to giving up on Xiao Ling early, his current state was truly liberation in another sense.
Yu Tian tugged at Yan Ming’s sleeve: “See, you never did anything wrong.”
“Not giving up on patients isn’t necessarily wrong for patient families. Families like Xiao Ling’s father are indeed very hard-pressed, but if he had given up treatment for Xiao Ling, then he’d regret it, feel guilty, think there was another possibility, and always feel like the child died because he gave up. In such a mindset, could he truly start a new life and find peace?”
“But now, he tried his best, never gave up on his child, did what a father should do. So he won’t feel guilty anymore, won’t be uneasy or regretful, and can therefore truly bid farewell to the past, embrace new life, let go of Xiao Ling, look toward the future, and truly live well every day now and ahead.”
“Though physically suffering, his soul found peace with a clear conscience. Perhaps for many patient families, this is another level of ‘treatment’?”
When people get sick, we instinctively focus all attention on patients, caring about their physical and psychological state, yet rarely care about family members who provide long-term care.
But in fact, long-term care of patients is exhausting both physically and psychologically, easily keeping people in high-pressure, negative emotional environments for extended periods. So even if unable to cure patients, helping patient families find peace and healing their wounded hearts is already precious.
“So not giving up might be a kind of strength. Even if not necessarily getting good results, having tried hard means no regrets. After all, if directly giving up, there’s nothing.”
Yu Tian looked up at Yan Ming: “See, Xiao Ling didn’t give up and continues fighting persistently in another way. So Dr. Yan, you can’t give up either.”
Yu Tian said seriously: “Because doctors must not only bring strength to patients through medical skills but also pass their beliefs to patients.”
Sometimes, just small actions can change much, not even knowing how patients are subtly encouraged by the medical staff’s unconscious inspiration. But even as the smallest screw in the medical system, responsible for the smallest part, doing what one can—perhaps thousands of medical workers can gather into one force, healing patients while changing something.
The relationship between doctors and patients should never be adversarial, nor doctors’ unilateral giving, because often patients’ decisiveness and courage facing illness also heal doctors’ occasional inner confusion in return.
“I want to continue my social media account properly. Even if there are various rumors or attacks against me in the future, I’ll keep going.”
Yu Tian made her decision at this moment.
She couldn’t perform delicate surgery or become a good surgeon, but using her social media account might bring tiny changes to the entire medical system.
Even Xiao Ling didn’t give up. She had only injured her hand—how could she give up lightly? How could she retreat because of some baseless cursing and rumors?
Social media science education’s reach and influence were indeed limited, but she couldn’t not do it because effects were minimal.
Because if giving up, if not doing it, then there would be nothing.
Yu Tian decided to make an episode about organ donation science education.
China was a country with a great organ demand but small organ donation. Under traditional concepts, even if patients signed organ donation consent forms, families might not cooperate. Most ordinary people had a very poor understanding of organ donation, knowing nothing about organ donation policies and procedures.
“If I can tell everyone about organ donation benefits and explain donation procedures, even if just one more person is willing to sign organ donation forms after watching my videos, it indirectly equals saving one or even multiple patients.”
“We can completely interview and film patients waiting for organs and those who recovered health after transplants, using contrast to directly show how organ donation can change many people’s destinies.”
“Of course, leading by example, I should first sign an organ donation form myself.”
Yu Tian suddenly smiled: “I suddenly feel there are so many topics to cover, so much knowledge and concepts I want to convey to others.”
Xiao Ling’s departure was sad, but her courage and perseverance also transmitted strength in reverse.
Yu Tian solemnly entrusted the revenue from her social media traffic to Yan Ming, asking him to give it to the family of the young patient who, like Xiao Ling, suffered from retinoblastoma.
Even with patient deaths, even with uncured patients, even if everyone else could be discouraged, doctors couldn’t. Once choosing medicine, once starting this path and choosing such a life, one should persist to the end.
Even if one often tries hard without results, one must grit teeth and continue.
Thorny roads, unknown futures, elusive hope, complex diseases—humanity’s ability to continue reproducing and thriving wasn’t precisely because of facing such difficulties, there was always a group of people who vowed to become healers in this life, abandoning personal interests and pursuing with humanity’s greater good as their original intention?
Yu Tian stared at her injured hand. For the first time, her heart no longer became dejected, melancholy, and insecure seeing this hand.
With a serious illness like Xiao Ling’s, even death didn’t stop her unyielding soul. How could she have the right to feel sorry for herself just because of a hand injury?
Yu Tian wouldn’t give up on science education through social media accounts, but likewise, she decided to pick up her professional future again.
After Yan Ming got off work, Yu Tian announced this major decision to him—
“I’ve decided to go back to school.”
Yan Ming was indeed somewhat surprised: “What happened?”
Yu Tian extended her injured hand: “My previous dream was to become a surgeon like you, but with my hand like this, I’ll never be able to do delicate surgery. So I was very dejected and directly gave up continuing studies, feeling my professional future was already predetermined.”
“Though doing medical science education on social media, my medical school professional background would be very helpful. It’s still entrepreneurship in medical-related fields without wasting what I learned, and the income can be donated to poor patients. But I still felt unsettled, unconsciously feeling regretful about not becoming a doctor like you.”
“Usually, seeing Qi Sihao in his white coat looking professional, I felt so envious.”
Yu Tian took a deep breath: “I used to always resent fate’s unfairness—I did nothing wrong, so why would I encounter someone like Zheng Tingfu and get dragged into injuring my hand? But now I’ve figured it out!”
“I think fate has been good to me. Injuring my hand might be another opportunity. I can continue focusing on medical fields without worrying about work pressure and patient situations, concentrating on research and academic study.”
“I can completely continue advanced studies and become a medical professor in the future. Though I can’t become a surgeon myself, I can continuously train batches of surgeons more excellent than I!”
Yu Tian’s eyes sparkled: “Compared to being a doctor, purely doing research gives me more time to understand the most cutting-edge academic achievements domestically and internationally. What if I can research new therapies in some field?”
“If I can’t become a doctor, I can become a doctor’s teacher!”
Speaking of this idea, Yu Tian was so excited that her eyes lit up.
After a brief surprise, Yan Ming quickly reacted, showing amusement and helplessness on his face.
He pulled the excited, gesticulating Yu Tian closer, leaning toward her ear and softly saying: “Not only can you be doctors’ teacher, training future doctors, you can also be a doctor’s girlfriend and future doctor’s wife.”
Yan Ming was too close. Yu Tian’s first reaction was the slightly warm breath on her ear and Yan Ming’s familiar, reassuring disinfectant scent. Her ears heated up before she did.
Doctor’s girlfriend and doctor’s wife—how could he say such things?
“We’re just boyfriend and girlfriend. I haven’t agreed to anything else. I’m still young and want to continue studying!” Yu Tian’s eyes were flustered, not looking at Yan Ming while righteously stating her position. “I haven’t thought about marriage and children yet. The future medical world still needs me.”
“Alright.” Faced with Yu Tian’s protest, Yan Ming just smiled and agreed. “You’re the future medical world’s shining new star. I can’t keep you to myself.”
Yan Ming gently patted Yu Tian’s head, slightly averting his gaze: “I love you, but you are free. As long as you turn around, I’ll be right here.”
He cleared his throat: “I didn’t say this cheesy line myself. I just saw it somewhere. Anyway, that’s the meaning—you understand.”
Yu Tian couldn’t help snuggling into Yan Ming’s arms, hugging him tightly.
“I know,” she whispered. “My sunflower.”
If she were Yan Ming’s sun, then Yan Ming would always be her most unique sunflower.