Adults are probably like this—one second they’re heavy with worry, the next they must wipe away tears and throw themselves into work. Xu Sui received a call from the hospital in the restroom saying her patient had suddenly had an episode.

Xu Sui turned off the faucet, pulled out a tissue to wipe her face, and hurried back to the hospital.

As soon as she emerged, the winter scene was bleak, with only ice crystals forming on the leaves.

It wasn’t until dawn that Xu Sui finally returned home and collapsed into bed.

The temperature wasn’t as the weather forecast had predicted. The warming lasted only a week—the warmth persisted for barely two days before cold air surged back with vengeance. On the third day, Beijing was hit with a blizzard, December officially arriving, signaling that 2020 was about to end.

Xu Sui had been working night shifts recently. Due to the blizzard, a bus rollover accident occurred on Chengzhan Road at midnight.

At 5:32 AM, snow fell heavily outside, occasionally accompanied by the sound of pine branches bending under accumulated snow and dropping to the ground with a “snap.” The operating room was silent except for the mechanical, slow beeping of instruments.

In the operating room, Xu Sui wore blue sterile scrubs, treating a patient with abdominal aortic rupture from the car accident. Despite being up all night, her eyes remained alert and calm.

“Suture the abdominal wall incision,” Xu Sui said through her mask.

After the surgical procedure, Xu Sui glanced over—the patient’s bilateral foot circulation was normal. Finally breathing a sigh of relief, she said gently: “Transfer to ICU for monitoring and treatment.”

“Thank you all for your hard work,” Xu Sui relaxed, and her face, tense all night, finally showed a hint of a smile.

“Thank you for your hard work too, Dr. Xu.”

Xu Sui stepped down from the operating table, removed her disposable medical mask and protective gloves, tossing them into the trash. She stepped on the sensor door of the operating room, turned left into the washroom, washed her hands, changed into a white coat, and walked out.

Once a person’s nerves relax, the body belatedly registers aches and pains. Xu Sui felt her arms were too tired to lift, and her neck and shoulders ached terribly.

Xu Sui raised her hand to rub her neck, walking forward absentmindedly when suddenly, a sturdy man in worn clothes with rolled-up sleeves appeared directly in front of her. He was bearded with a shaved head, staring at Xu Sui viciously with bloodshot eyes:

“Is Dr. Shen Linqing from the surgery department here?”

Xu Sui looked up at the man before her. He held a sign written in enlarged red paint: “Devil Doctor, Murderer Must Pay with Life.”

Like the wailing of blood.

His face showed grief, but more anger at losing a loved one, his entire being emanating an obsessive, sinister aura.

Doctor-patient relations were the most common yet most difficult relationships to mediate in hospitals.

“It’s not yet work hours,” Xu Sui replied.

After speaking, Xu Sui pocketed her hands and was about to brush past the middle-aged man when he grabbed her arm, clearly angered by her indifferent attitude: “What the hell do you mean?”

“Just two days ago, in your hospital, my mother, a living person, was suddenly gone! I’ve been waiting day and night but haven’t seen anyone. That surnamed Shen must be hiding, right? You all must give me an explanation today.”

The middle-aged man pulled her forward. Xu Sui stumbled and was shoved against the wall, wincing in pain. He gripped tighter and tighter, his tone agitated: “You all must pay with your lives!”

“Aren’t doctors supposed to save people? Don’t you understand this is negligence? A bunch of useless trash!”

“Led by Shen Linqing, he’s a murderous maniac!”

“I have no mother now!”

A passing nurse screamed and immediately called security and colleagues to separate them. Xu Sui had been shaken by the middle-aged man for about ten minutes and felt nauseous, nearly vomiting from the shaking.

Xu Sui was pulled behind security. As the middle-aged man cursed medical staff extensively, insulting their ancestors and turning red-faced with rage, she finally spoke:

“Your mother was admitted to Puren Hospital half a month ago. Because family members concealed the patient’s medical history, it led to incorrect diagnosis by the doctor. After the error was made, the doctor reformulated a treatment plan and tried their best to save her, but the patient’s condition was too severe. She had an episode two days ago and died despite resuscitation efforts.”

Xu Sui’s voice remained neither cold nor warm, as if stating facts: “Doctors have the responsibility and obligation to do their utmost to save lives, but paying with one’s life is not among their duties.”

“My condolences,” Xu Sui withdrew her gaze from him, pocketed her hands, and left the hospital corridor.

Exhausted, Xu Sui went directly to her office for a nap, falling asleep at her desk. She even had a dream where the patient’s family member’s face merged with several faces from sealed memories.

That family looked down at her and Xu’s mother from on high, their tone accusatory and full of resentment:

“Your father—this is negligence, understand?”

Xu Sui suddenly woke from the dream, her back covered in cold sweat. Only when she heard her colleagues’ scattered conversations around her did her thoughts gradually return. It was now 8 AM—a new day had arrived.

After hastily eating breakfast, Xu Sui went out to fill in the schedule but unexpectedly ran into Director Zhang, her longtime mentor, in the corridor.

“Xiao Xu, just finished your night shift?” he asked.

“Yes,” Xu Sui nodded. Seeing the director seemed to have something to say, she proactively asked, “Teacher, is there something you need?”

“About your remarks this morning—word has reached me. Why did you directly confront the patient’s family?” The director hesitated, then changed his tone: “Don’t provoke him, especially when doctor-patient relations are so tense now.”

“Alright, I understand. Thank you, teacher,” Xu Sui said.

After the director left, Xu Sui walked forward with her hands in her coat pockets, thinking that the teacher probably hadn’t finished his sentence—he likely wanted to mention her lack of compassion as a doctor.

But Xu Sui didn’t regret telling the patient’s family the real facts last night, nor was she afraid of deliberate retaliation.

Because they hadn’t been negligent—as doctors, they had done their utmost.

The next afternoon, Xu Sui was on duty at the surgical outpatient department. She sat at the computer, using her mouse to navigate patient appointment pages and time slots. Reading quickly, her eyes scanned the webpage before freezing on a certain name.

Zhou Jingze, 28 years old, appointment time 4:30-5:00.

Why was he here?

As Xu Sui pondered this privately, there was a sound at the door. Nurse He, carrying a stack of medical files, withdrew her knocking hand and said: “Dr. Xu, it’s time to begin.”

“Alright,” Xu Sui’s voice was gentle.

Xu Sui sat at her office desk, patiently and responsibly receiving one patient after another. She kept her head down, stray hair falling over her forehead. She reached up to tuck it back when rhythmic knocking sounded at the door.

“Come in,” Xu Sui said.

After speaking, she looked up to see Zhou Jingze appear before her. A loose jacket hung from his arm, his eyelids slightly drooping. Those dark, narrow eyes seemed to have lost some light, but he still quirked the corner of his mouth at Xu Sui.

Xu Sui’s heart constricted. She looked away and asked: “Where are you uncomfortable?”

“A few days ago at the base, I was fixing aircraft and got hit in the back by a part,” Zhou Jingze’s tone was casual.

Xu Sui nodded, indicating understanding. She examined Zhou Jingze’s injury—fortunately, it was only external. She wrote him a prescription and handed it over:

“Go queue at the window to get the medicine, then come back so I can explain usage instructions.”

“Mm, thank you, doctor,” Zhou Jingze’s voice carried politeness and propriety.

After he left, that aggressive, sharp aura disappeared from the air. Xu Sui exhaled, leaning her head back against the chair, feeling her chest constrict and struggling to breathe.

Xu Sui lowered her head to continue writing medical reports. She had just made an error and was about to cross it out when a shadow fell across the desk. Thinking Zhou Jingze had returned, she didn’t look up and asked:

“Back so quickly?”

No one answered. Xu Sui sensed something was wrong and was about to open the drawer for her phone when the person quickly struck her palm. Xu Sui winced in pain.

Before she could react, the person yanked Xu Sui from her stool, restraining her entirely while pressing a fruit knife to her throat with his right hand.

“What are you doing?” Xu Sui’s tone was calm, showing no panic in her expression.

But only she knew her palms were already sweating.

The man snorted coldly, speaking word by word with a sinister tone: “Of course, to make you accompany my mother in death.”

The man was bald, wearing a worn blue down jacket. He was strong, and Xu Sui couldn’t move at all under his restraint.

“Lock the door for me.”

The man pressed the sharp blade against Xu Sui’s throat, moving it forward an inch menacingly. Blood immediately seeped from her fair skin.

Xu Sui had no choice but to nod. The two moved toward the door, the bald man looking serious and alert, watching the entrance fearfully, afraid someone might knock at any moment.

Taking advantage of the man’s over-tense nerves and concentrated attention on the door, Xu Sui elbowed backward forcefully, hitting his vital chest area. The bald man grunted and released her.

She crouched down and immediately fled in panic, her heart nearly jumping to her throat.

“Fuck your mother, stinking bitch!” The bald man spat viciously on the ground.

Just as Xu Sui’s hand touched the door handle, her scalp stung sharply. The man grabbed her hair and yanked backward brutally, raising his knife to strike her. Xu Sui struggled desperately.

During their struggle, there was a sudden “rip” as clothes tore and the blade cut her abdomen. Xu Sui frowned tightly, slowly crouching down as she felt blood continuously flowing from her abdomen, too painful to speak.

Two days ago at midnight, she had just performed abdominal surgery on a patient. Today she was slashed in the abdomen by a patient’s family member.

The man’s eyes turned red as he again grabbed Xu Sui’s collar and lifted her. Sunlight streamed in, reflecting off the blade in cold, extreme light.

Just as the bald man was about to press the knife to Xu Sui’s throat, a violent force struck—someone kicked his hand from behind. With a “snap,” the fruit knife was kicked away.

Xu Sui clutched her abdomen, struggling to look up. Zhou Jingze had somehow appeared before her. Her heart trembled as she saw him with a grim face, bare-handedly fighting the bald man.

Zhou Jingze threw a punch. The bald man’s mouth began bleeding, but as he tried to advance, Zhou Jingze landed another kick. Zhou Jingze subdued the bald man on the ground, stepping on his chest, grabbing his collar, and beating him mercilessly.

His face was cold, his eyes filled with thick gloom like Asura from hell, beating the assailant to death. His knuckles were red, swollen, and bleeding, but he remained oblivious.

Xu Sui didn’t doubt he would beat the man to death.

Xu Sui struggled to the office desk, breathing heavily as she pressed the emergency button.

The bald man, beaten with a bloody, swollen face, still laughed maniacally, staring straight at Zhou Jingze with bizarre, perverted eyes. Suddenly, he flicked a folding knife from his sleeve, the sharp blade slashing directly at Zhou Jingze’s hand. Dark red blood immediately spurted out.

Xu Sui’s pupils contracted violently. Shocked, she fainted.

Twenty minutes later, Xu Sui woke up lying on a hospital bed. Opening her eyes, she found colleagues surrounding her with concerned faces, asking:

“Dr. Xu, are you alright? Are you uncomfortable anywhere?”

“Dr. Xu, although your abdominal wound is long, it’s shallow and not serious. Fortunately, it didn’t injure your surgical hand.”

“But this really chills us doctors’ hearts. The perpetrator has been arrested.”

Sensitively catching the word “hand,” Xu Sui’s eyelids trembled. She struggled to sit up from the bed, pulling at her wound and frowning.

Xu Sui asked with a pale face: “What about him?”

Her colleague paused before realizing: “You mean that handsome guy who acted heroically? He’s in the next room bandaging his wound.”

“I’m going to check on him,” Xu Sui coughed, lifting the blanket to get down.

Zhou Jingze sat on the bed’s edge. Dusk had completely disappeared behind him into endless darkness. He was biting the gauze on his hand, trying to tie a knot.

Zhou Jingze was staring down at blood seeping through the gauze when suddenly, a pair of delicate white hands gently pulled away the gauze from his teeth. He released it, lifting his thin eyelids to look at Xu Sui before him.

Xu Sui lowered her eyes, bandaging his wound.

“Go rest,” Zhou Jingze said. Seeing her silent, unusual expression, he smiled carelessly: “My hand is fine. Even if it’s not, it doesn’t matter—I can’t fly planes anymore anyway.”

It’s not important.

“Bullshit,” Xu Sui said.

Xu Sui appeared gentle and well-behaved, but suddenly cursing caught him off guard. He immediately laughed softly, then louder and louder, his chest vibrating with joyful tremors.

Tsk, how could someone cursing be so cute with no lethality at all?

Zhou Jingze was still laughing when Xu Sui’s eyes gradually moistened. He lowered his neck to see almond eyes reddening and stopped laughing, looking at her:

“Why are you like a faucet, hm?”

“I’m really fine. I was just teasing you,” Zhou Jingze lifted his eyelids, his tone helpless: “I really… have no way to deal with you.”

After Xu Sui finished work, Zhou Jingze said he’d take her home, saying he wasn’t comfortable with her going alone. Xu Sui nodded and agreed.

Along the way, they sat in the taxi’s back seat with a gap between them showing their distance, relatively silent. Outside the car window, scenery retreated—warm yellow streetlights, dark red neon signs alternating. Several times Xu Sui wanted to speak, her thoughts reaching her throat, but she couldn’t say anything.

Arriving downstairs at Xu Sui’s building, she opened the car door to get out. Remembering something, she knocked on the window: “I have an ointment at home for fading scars. Come up.”

“Alright,” Zhou Jingze nodded.

The two came to Xu Sui’s door one after the other. Xu Sui unlocked and entered, pressing the wall switch. With a “snap,” warm light like rising tide spilled everywhere.

“Sit here first while I look for it,” Xu Sui removed her coat.

Zhou Jingze nodded and sat on the sofa. Xu Sui wore a white knit sweater and green rabbit slippers, going back and forth between the living room and bedroom looking for ointment.

After searching for about ten minutes, Xu Sui was somewhat frustrated: “Strange, I clearly put it here.”

“Sit down,” Zhou Jingze stood up, hands in his pants pockets, lifting his chin at her: “Tell me a few obvious places, and I’ll find it for you.”

Xu Sui mentioned several places where she usually kept things and sat down, pouring herself water. After drinking two sips, Zhou Jingze soon appeared before her, a medical kit hooked on his finger.

“Found it?” Xu Sui looked up.

Zhou Jingze didn’t speak but knelt on one knee, opened the medical kit, took out gauze and medicine, his tone slow: “Let me bandage it.”

Only then did Xu Sui realize that her earlier movements had pulled at her abdominal wound—her white knit sweater was faintly stained with blood.

So he was getting gauze for her.

Xu Sui nodded, pinching the corner of her knit sweater to roll it up. A section of fair waist and abdomen was exposed, white gauze wrapped around her slender waist. Further up, she could vaguely see something black resembling a tattoo.

Xu Sui suddenly realized and immediately pulled her shirt down.

But it was too late.

A stronger force grabbed her—a hand with distinct bones and clearly visible blue veins covered Xu Sui’s hand, preventing her from pulling her clothes down.

Xu Sui kept her eyes down, persistently trying to pull down.

Zhou Jingze refused to let her.

In their back-and-forth tugging, it was like a silent confrontation.

The wind outside was strong, the night quiet—so quiet it seemed like the end of the world, and they sat on an indivisible ship. Clearly sitting opposite each other, just looking.

Hidden longing and obsession deep in their hearts emerged like a net.

Ready to ignite at the slightest touch.

Zhou Jingze’s face was grim as he gripped her hand tightly, yanking upward forcefully. With a “rip,” the shirt was completely lifted, his hand positioned right at her chest.

Large areas of fair skin were exposed, raising fine bumps. Below her chest, on her ribs, was a tattoo. Greek text plus the letter Z, surrounded by a pattern of snakes and lotus flowers.

This was the tattoo Zhou Jingze had gotten on his hand during his reckless youth—a distinctly personal, flamboyant mark.

Xu Sui had actually replicated it on her own body.

Even though she was a girl who feared pain.

Zhou Jingze remembered that night in college when they had just gotten together, playing truth games in the snow mountains.

“My turn,” Xu Sui waved five fingers before his eyes, trying to get Zhou Jingze’s attention: “What do you think is something you regret?”

“Having the tattoo on my hand removed,” Zhou Jingze’s tone was casual.

She silently remembered Zhou Jingze’s words, ultimately saying nothing and just nodding.

The tattoo that had regrettably disappeared from the boy’s hand had now reappeared before his eyes.

Z&Heliotrope meant bright, growing toward the sun—he hoped to live openly and honorably.

The tattoo on Xu Sui’s ribs read Heliotrope&ZJZ, which in Greek meant forever facing the sun, growing toward Zhou Jingze.

Hoping the beloved boy would always be passionate.

Or always passionately loving the boy.

Tattooing someone’s name on the most painful ribs was a girl’s devout prayer.

Zhou Jingze couldn’t distinguish—he stared for a full minute, looking again and again, his eyes reddening as he asked hoarsely:

“When did you get it?”

“Three days before we broke up,” Xu Sui thought and said.

Zhou Jingze calculated—three days before their breakup, wasn’t that his birthday?

So this was the birthday gift she said she wanted to give him.

Like something lost and found again—joy, regret, and guilt all awakened.

How many years had they missed?

And with what kind of feelings and expectations had Xu Sui gotten this tattoo, only to have it all come to nothing?

So after their reunion, she hid her feelings, retreating to a corner no one could see.

Zhou Jingze looked at her, his gaze burning, making her heart contract as he stated a fact in a slow tone:

“You like me.”

“That was before,” Xu Sui lowered her head, hurriedly pulling down her shirt.

Zhou Jingze stood up, moved closer by an inch, trapping her on the sofa. His breath brushed against her ear, tickling and tingling. He pinched her chin, lifting it, his dark eyes locked on hers as he asked:

“Is that so? Then why didn’t you have it removed?”

That familiar Zhou Jingze had returned.

Xu Sui knocked away his hand, standing to avoid him: “I found it troublesome.”

Just as she stood, Zhou Jingze reached out and pulled her back. Xu Sui crashed into a pair of dark eyes.

He raised his hand, pressing his thumb to her forehead, looking at her as their eyes met.

His rough fingertip repeatedly pressed her forehead. Xu Sui’s breathing trembled.

Zhou Jingze’s eyes stared at her intently, surging and burning like fierce fire.

Xu Sui’s cheeks heated under his gaze, and she turned her face away, averting her eyes.

The man insisted on making her look at him again, turning her face back, gritting his teeth:

“I don’t believe you feel nothing.”

Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed her fiercely, his tongue directly invading.

Xu Sui was pressed entirely against the sofa’s back wall, her neck against the wall feeling cool. He leaned close, his breath warm, forehead against forehead, lips lightly touching her lips as if electricity passed through.

Xu Sui’s heart suddenly contracted. Wanting to retreat but unable to, a kiss brought her back to the past.

A drop of sweat fell to her eye corner, stimulating her tear glands as the last tear slid from the corner of her eye.

So familiar.

As if they had never been apart.

Finally, she surrendered to what she truly wanted deep in her heart.

Her fingers gently touched his temple—a tender caress.

Like giving a response.

Outside the window, tree shadows swayed past, leaves falling to the ground as cars passed one after another, tires rolling over them before settling on the ground. It seemed the wind was picking up.

But inside remained warm as ever.

Zhou Jingze’s movements paused, his eagle-like dark eyes locked on her, rough palms and the gauze’s coarse texture caressing her fair cheek.

Xu Sui’s heart trembled.

The man leaned over her, restraining her hands in an absolutely controlling posture, bending down to stare at her.

He did nothing except look at her. Xu Sui felt her forehead breaking into a fine sweat.

The room’s heating circulated, starting warm, gradually becoming hot and dry. In this weather, she seemed to return to those summer days watching games together in Amber Lane.

It was also very hot then, but moments thick with love.

Then it was cicada songs; now it was the sound of a car horn from the opposite road downstairs—one short, two long.

Zhou Jingze looked at Xu Sui, his eyes reflecting only her.

As if he belonged to her.

Xu Sui lifted her lashes. The warm ceiling light was somewhat blinding, so she raised her hand to shield her eyes, but the man took it away.

Zhou Jingze extended his tongue to lick the tear from her eye corner, slowly swallowing, then bent down to gently press his thumb to the tattoo on her ribs.

The girl’s straightforward feelings were thus displayed before him.

He leaned down to touch his lips to the red mole by her ear, then slowly nibbled. Xu Sui felt her ear go numb and tingly, unable to push him away.

Gradually, she surrendered.

She would still be moved whenever he came close.

Zhou Jingze still wouldn’t let Xu Sui turn on the light, examining her eyes with a possessive attitude.

Xu Sui’s long hair was disheveled with a kind of girlish, sacred beauty. Her lashes were tightly closed and trembling, her cheeks flushed.

A silent temptation.

Zhou Jingze’s Adam’s apple slowly rolled. He lowered his head, bit her lip once, and asked viciously:

“Bai Yushi—choose him or choose me?” Zhou Jingze stared at her, asking in a deep voice.

He was still bothered and jealous about seeing their intimate behavior that day.

Xu Sui wisely didn’t answer, or she’d be the one at a disadvantage.

“Tell me who I am,” Zhou Jingze reached out to tuck her stray hair behind her ear, again pressing his thumb to her forehead.

Xu Sui didn’t answer. He continued forcing her to look at him. This terrifying possessiveness—she slapped away his hand and said reluctantly:

“Zhou Jingze.”

In the end, she still chose only him.

Finally, Xu Sui was exhausted. After all, she had experienced high-intensity work during the day and been injured. In her daze, she actually fell asleep. After Zhou Jingze finished a cigarette, he carried her to the bathroom to clean up. Even with padding, he was very careful, but the gauze on her wound still needed changing.

The hot water was very warm. Xu Sui squinted, not wanting to move, just feeling comfortable.

Because Xu Sui had just been injured and water couldn’t touch her wound, Zhou Jingze’s cleaning movements were very careful and rarely gentle.

But he wasn’t idle either—doing this work, he had to get some benefit, and he reasoned with her about it.

He was just helping treat a wound but still demanded benefits. Xu Sui opened her eyes in disbelief, then refused outright.

Zhou Jingze extended his tongue to lick her ear, lazily chuckling:

“It’s been so long since I’ve had any action.”

The wind outside was strong, whistling past. The tall buildings were dark except for their small lamp.

A world belonging to just the two of them.

Night floated and sank, the wind intoxicating, the hidden moon emerging halfway.

Like parting clouds to see through fog.

Zhou Jingze called her name again and again, word by word, as if determined and serious, his voice husky:

“Yiyi, my Yiyi.”