Monday, a workday, the weather getting increasingly clear.

When sunlight streamed in, people’s moods would improve. She and Zhou Jingze were close to settling everything, and everything seemed to be developing in a good direction.

Xu Sui was organizing materials in her office when a nurse knocked on her door, smiling as she said:

“Dr. Xu, Director Zhang from our surgical department is looking for you.”

Xu Sui’s finger had just stopped on the page. Her movement paused, and she nodded: “Alright.”

After the nurse left, Xu Sui put down her work, hands in her pockets, walked to the director’s office, and knocked on the door.

A warm male voice came from inside: “Come in.”

Xu Sui pushed the door open and entered, her hand resting on the door handle, smiling: “Teacher, I heard you were looking for me.”

“Come, sit.” Director Zhang raised his hand, pointing to the seat in front of him.

Xu Sui nodded and pulled out a chair to sit down.

Director Zhang put down his thermos cup and took out a medical chart from beside him.

“You might not know about the patient you’re about to take on. The dean personally received them and recommended you to the patient’s family, since gallbladder malignant tumor surgical removal is your specialty.” Director Zhang spoke to her with a smile.

Xu Sui accepted the medical chart, scanning it quickly. She saw the patient’s previous diagnosis indicated gallbladder malignant tumor, discovered not too late, with the risk being the patient’s advanced age and having the three highs.

Also a disabled person.

Xu Sui’s eyelid twitched, and an ominous premonition slowly formed in her heart.

Her almond eyes swept to the top of the medical chart, where the patient column clearly read: Song Fangzhang.

Her pupils suddenly constricted. Her fingertips gripped a corner of the chart, her nail beds turning white, her expression stunned.

She couldn’t clearly hear what the director was saying beside her. Her ears buzzed with tinnitus, and she fell into a state of sorrowful emotions.

It took a long time before Xu Sui emerged from that emotional state. Her eyes looked dazed, taking a while to focus on Director Zhang who was still speaking, her voice calm:

“Sorry, Teacher, I can’t take this surgery.”

Director Zhang’s words caught in his throat. He didn’t react immediately, unconsciously frowning. Having practiced medicine for decades, what storms hadn’t he seen? Doctors refusing patients was extremely rare.

Especially when it was Xu Sui—she was young and bold, needing more surgical experience to accumulate.

“Nonsense! What doctor refuses patients?!” Director Zhang’s expression didn’t look good.

Xu Sui’s lips were somewhat pale, her throat tight as she struggled to organize her words:

“I have my personal reasons.”

Director Zhang became even angrier upon hearing this. He rarely spoke harshly, his tone carrying high hopes and expectations:

“If you chose this profession, you can’t be temperamental. A doctor’s duty is to heal the wounded and rescue the dying, to have compassionate hearts. Besides, do you still want your professional title evaluated in the future? Each surgery is an experience. Your teacher hopes you can keep progressing…”

Xu Sui suddenly pulled back her chair and stood up. The chair legs scraped the floor with sharp, grating sounds. She bowed to Director Zhang, forcing a slight smile at the corner of her lips:

“I still refuse.”

After speaking, Xu Sui left the office without looking back.

During lunch in the cafeteria, Xu Sui looked at the brightly colored dishes on her tray with no appetite whatsoever.

Thinking about having to work in the afternoon, Xu Sui forced a few bites of rice down. But when her mind flashed to that name from the morning’s medical chart…

Her stomach churned with nausea. Xu Sui put down her utensils, covered her mouth, and rushed toward the bathroom.

Xu Sui dry-heaved over the toilet for several minutes, retching until blood rushed to her head, her eyes watering from irritation, tears streaming down from overstimulated tear glands.

It was truly nauseating.

After vomiting, Xu Sui walked to the washbasin and turned on the faucet. White water gushed down.

She cupped cool water in her hands and splashed it on her face. Her cheeks were instantly frozen, numb and senseless.

Xu Sui’s eyelashes were stuck together with water, preventing her from opening her eyes. She leaned sideways against the washbasin, staring at the white fluorescent lights on the ceiling in a daze.

“Ding!” Her phone in her pocket made a sound. Xu Sui took it out and saw it was a message from Zhou Jingze.

【I’ll pick you up after work. Is there anything you want to eat?】

When Zhou Jingze sent this message, he was sitting in his university flight instructor Teacher Gu’s office.

Old Gu saw him staring at his phone with unconsciously upturned lips and asked:

“You kid, texting your girlfriend?”

Zhou Jingze turned off his phone screen, unconsciously smiling: “Yes, you’ve met her. Her name is Xu Sui.”

“Oh, I’ve met her?” Old Gu thought carefully.

Zhou Jingze chuckled softly, also recalling something: “During that university flight technology competition with Gao Yang, when you and Instructor Zhang made a bet—you bet on me winning, right? You gave me that 200 yuan as prize money.”

“I used it to buy her candy.”

Old Gu suddenly understood, pointing at him: “You kid—”

Zhou Jingze sat there smiling, continuing to chat with his instructor.

When he finally picked up his cigarettes and lighter from the coffee table to leave, Old Gu called out to him.

“Think about what I mentioned. The sky still belongs to you.”

Zhou Jingze unconsciously tightened his grip on the cigarette pack, smiling at him:

“Thank you. I’ll consider it seriously.”

During her afternoon rest in the office, Xu Sui had a fragmented dream.

In the dream, she was still attending middle school in Liying, locked at home by her mother on weekends, not allowed to go out or watch TV, only able to sit by the small window doing homework.

Song Zhishu brought a group of girls downstairs to her building, throwing stones at her room window while laughing mockingly:

“Daughter of a murderer!”

“Why don’t you go to hell with your dad!”

Xu Sui hid under the desk corner, hugging her knees, trying to curl herself into a secure position, muttering to herself:

“My dad isn’t.”

“My dad is a good person.”

…

Finally, Xu Sui woke from the nightmare, drenched in cold sweat.

Before afternoon consultations, Xu Sui reorganized her emotions and threw herself back into work.

When the wall clock pointed to nearly six o’clock, Xu Sui glanced at the appointment numbers on her computer screen—there were none left.

Xu Sui tossed her pen aside, raised her hand to press her brow bone, picked up her cup, and stood to stretch her muscles.

Rhythmic knocking came from outside the door. Xu Sui was stretching her stiff neck, her voice gentle:

“Come in.”

The door handle turned with a “click” sound as someone entered.

Xu Sui had just put down her cup. Thinking it was a colleague or supervisor, she instinctively looked up. When she saw who it was, her smile froze at the corner of her mouth.

Song Zhishu wore a white fur coat, high boots with jeans, a commuter bag hanging from her elbow. Beneath her refined makeup was an undeniably haggard smile.

“Long time no see, Xu Sui.” Song Zhishu took the initiative to be friendly.

Xu Sui’s fingers gripped the spoon handle. She lowered her eyes, her voice cold: “I’m already off work. If you need medical attention, turn right after leaving.”

She couldn’t even be bothered with pleasantries.

Xu Sui took off her white coat, hung it on the coat rack, put on her jacket, took her scarf, stuffed her glasses in her bag, and before leaving, she deliberately opened the window for ventilation.

Large amounts of cold air rushed in. Song Zhishu shrank her shoulders standing there.

Xu Sui tucked her hands into her coat pockets, not looking at Song Zhishu once throughout, treating her like air as she brushed past her shoulder.

“I came today… to apologize to you,” Song Zhishu sniffled, exhaustion evident under her eyelids. “For the harm our family caused you, I’m truly very sorry.”

Xu Sui stopped walking, turned to look at her, her voice calm:

“I don’t accept your apology.”

After speaking, Xu Sui walked outward. She had barely taken ten steps down the corridor when Song Zhishu chased after her in high heels from behind.

Song Zhishu grabbed her hand, her voice loud: “I received news today that you refused my father’s surgery. Do you doctors bring personal emotions onto the operating table?”

“If it’s because of the harm I caused you before, I apologize to you. If that’s not enough… I’ll kneel down for you,” Song Zhishu gripped her hand, tears streaming down. “My dad… he’s a living human being.”

Upon hearing this, Xu Sui withdrew her hand, looking at her with calm eyes, cutting straight to the heart:

“Then what about my dad… wasn’t my dad’s life a life too?”

As Xu Sui withdrew her hand, Song Zhishu lost her support and fell to the ground. She hastily grabbed onto Xu Sui’s sleeve, not letting her leave.

Song Zhishu’s grip was strong—Xu Sui couldn’t break free no matter how she tried. In their struggle, more and more patients gathered to watch.

Those unaware of the situation thought Xu Sui was making things difficult for a patient.

Song Zhishu gripped Xu Sui’s hand, not letting her go. Xu Sui was angry and embarrassed.

Suddenly, an oppressive shadow fell down. A strong hand separated their hands. Zhou Jingze pulled Xu Sui behind him, looking down at the woman sitting on the ground, slowly speaking:

“Don’t think you can act recklessly just because you’re in the vulnerable position of being a patient or patient’s family member.”

Zhou Jingze held his phone in his other hand, looking up at Xu Sui:

“What about your hospital’s security measures? Should we call the police?”

“Forget it, let’s just go.” Xu Sui shook her head and pulled Zhou Jingze away.

In the car, Xu Sui sat in the passenger seat, obviously in low spirits, not speaking the entire time.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Zhou Jingze reached out to touch her cheek. “If you don’t want to talk, let’s eat something first.”

“Pineapple bun first or frosted hawthorn?”

When someone you love is gentle with you, the grievance in your heart amplifies.

Xu Sui looked up at Zhou Jingze, her voice very soft: “I don’t know if I did the right thing. That person at the hospital just now—her father needs surgery, and I refused.”

“Her father’s life was saved by my dad back then, but instead of being grateful, they said my dad was negligent, called me the daughter of a murderer.” A bitter smile played at the corner of Xu Sui’s lips.

Xu Sui’s father died in a fire during a mission.

At that time, Liying City’s North Chemical Factory suddenly caught fire. The fire department rushed to rescue. When they arrived, flames licked the walls, burning fiercely.

Screams and heart-wrenching sounds mixed together. Xu Sui’s father charged into the fire repeatedly, saving four or five people.

The last trip, Xu Sui’s father rushed in to save Song Fangzhang. He was already exhausted but still forced his body to carry Song Fangzhang out on his back.

When reaching the front door, Xu Sui’s father stumbled and fell, and Song Fangzhang on his back also fell to the ground.

Who knew the building’s beam would suddenly collapse, hitting Song Fangzhang’s thigh directly.

Song Fangzhang let out heart-wrenching screams. Xu Sui’s father crawled over, pulled him out with bare hands, and supported him to get out again.

This time he was extra careful, but when they were almost out, the fire spread rapidly. Xu Sui’s father realized something was wrong and pushed the man out.

The building collapsed thunderously. Xu Sui’s father was forever left in the fire.

Xu Sui had just started her third year of middle school then. Before her dad left for the mission, he had said he bought birthday gifts for her.

But he never came back the next day.

The whole family was immersed in the pain of losing a loved one. People around them comforted her while secretly binding her with emotional manipulation:

“Your mother only has you now. You must listen to her.”

Xu Sui nodded, promising in her heart to be a good daughter to her mother.

But things were far from that simple. When Xu Sui returned to school after the funeral, she found that people’s looks toward her had changed.

She was isolated.

Xu Sui didn’t say anything, silently bearing it all. When she was sitting at her desk doing homework, Song Zhishu suddenly rushed over, tore up her homework book, and wailed:

“My dad became disabled! Why was your dad negligent? He carried him out then dropped him on the ground.”

“You’re now a martyr’s daughter with compensation money to receive. What about my family? My whole family depends on my dad alone. What will our family do now?”

“It’s all your fault. Your dad doesn’t deserve to be a firefighter. How dare you say he sacrificed himself!”

“But I don’t have a dad anymore.” Xu Sui said softly, a tear dropping.

In response, Song Zhishu slapped her hard across the face.

Then Xu Sui faced a year and a half of school bullying.

She had a gentle personality and good temper. Song Zhishu was certain Xu Sui wouldn’t report them, so she led classmates in various ways of bullying her.

In that era, adolescent children’s values weren’t yet formed. Growing up in small towns, they had innocence alongside brutality.

They joined Song Zhishu in judging Xu Sui—not about right or wrong.

But purely enjoying the pleasure of judging someone.

Xu Sui often found dead toads in her desk, or homework books stuck with chewing gum. She’d be locked in bathrooms, or have mop water dumped all over her.

At first she would scream in fright and cry. Later she gradually became numb.

Xu Sui’s mother only learned about this in the first half of her sophomore year when a young substitute teacher reported it.

She ran to school and made a scene, pressing Song Zhishu’s head down and forcing her to apologize.

Finally, this matter was escalated by Xu Sui’s mother’s firm attitude, and higher-ups began paying attention. Only then did Song Zhishu hurriedly apologize.

For Xu Sui’s psychological health and learning environment, her mother sent her to Beijing North.

This led to Xu Sui’s first transfer.

Due to long-term oppression, Xu Sui became very insecure inside, and her value system gradually wavered.

Back then she often walked with her head down, even somewhat hunched, afraid others would notice her or point at her.

Meeting Zhou Jingze on transfer day was the first kindness she received.

When Xu Sui had just transferred to Tianzhong, she was sick, emotionally dark, the whole person dim and lightless, wearing a light-colored dress. Even her self-introduction on the platform was rushed.

She feared the people here would be like those in Liying.

Mocking her, gossiping about her, looking at her strangely.

Although that didn’t happen that day, no one in class paid attention to her—they all ignored her.

Xu Sui felt extremely uncomfortable and dejected.

Only Zhou Jingze.

The teenager wearing a black T-shirt with his school uniform jacket loose, spinning a basketball in his hand, standing against the light in front of her, actively asking if she didn’t have a stool.

He even ran up and down five floors for her, finding Xu Sui a new stool.

Cicadas sang enthusiastically, large patches of light poured in.

Wind blew by. The teenager was rushing to play basketball, his eyes briefly glancing over her, lips curved in a friendly nod.

He became her light.

Even into university, when Xu Sui adopted 1017 and Hu Qianxi asked her reason, she said animals understood gratitude better than people.

So in university when she saw Li Hao mockingly ridiculing her father being a martyr, Xu Sui showed her thorns.

Her father had fought desperately to save people.

After starting work, she worked hard to excel and be responsible, thinking fulfilling her professional duties was enough. But her mentor kept saying she lacked a doctor’s compassionate heart.

During Xu Sui’s account, emotions suppressed for years finally couldn’t be contained. She broke down crying:

“What’s wrong with this world that I can’t even tell good from bad anymore?”

All these years, there hadn’t been even a single flower from the Song family at her father’s grave.

Xu Sui sat in the passenger seat, hands covering her face, tears constantly falling through the gaps.

Zhou Jingze lowered his head, his thumb sliding to wipe her tears, pulling her into his embrace:

“Listen to me—no one has the right to forgive them on your behalf.”

“But most of it is good. The day before yesterday I met a delivery worker who brought noodles with soup that spilled halfway. He was so devastated he cried, afraid customers would give bad reviews. At 3 AM, he braved the cold wind to rush back, planning to buy another portion himself to compensate the customer. The boss gave him a free meal, saying—this winter isn’t easy for anyone, let’s get through it together.”

“Even I faced unfair treatment in my industry and was framed by brothers I considered family, didn’t I?” Zhou Jingze self-deprecatingly tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“This world averages one violent crime every ten thousand minutes, child abuse happens daily, but there are also people willing to encourage strangers and stick to their posts to save every life—like you all.” Zhou Jingze pulled her from his embrace to look at her.

“We just encountered that one-in-ten-thousand misfortune, but this world is still good.”

Zhou Jingze spoke slowly while somehow producing something, his finger lifting her chin, his knuckle brushing her lips before inserting it.

Xu Sui’s tongue touched it—the outer layer instantly dissolved, sweetness slowly spreading between her lips and teeth, immediately diluting the bitterness in her heart.

He gave her a candy.

Xu Sui looked up at him through tearful eyes. Zhou Jingze pinched her nose, smiling gently, his eyes clearly sincere:

“Grandfather often said we live to guard our principles and original intentions. Not to change the world, but to prevent the world from changing us.”

Good and evil are opposite sides, coexisting. Life is like a coin God casually tosses to you—it’s not about which side it lands on, but which side you choose to become.

The coin has always been in your palm. Your life’s game settings depend on yourself.