It rained again at night. The sweltering heat that had gripped Luolin for several consecutive days was completely washed away by this rain, and by midnight there was even a slight chill in the air.

Ruan Mian finished the work at hand past eleven o’clock. Tonight was her last night shift. After tomorrow, everything here would become part of the past.

Holding a medical chart clipboard, she came out from the temporary ward and walked to the consultation desk. Song Yangling was there writing orders. Looking up and seeing her, she called out, “Dr. Ruan.”

Ruan Mian’s footsteps paused. The next second, her toes changed direction, heading toward the consultation desk as she casually asked, “Why haven’t you finished your shift yet?”

“Wait a bit, I’ll leave once I finish organizing this.” Song Yangling stopped her pen to look at her. “Hey, I added you on WeChat last time, why didn’t you accept my request?”

Ruan Mian’s eyelid twitched. She’d been so busy recently that she barely had any time to touch her phone. Each day she only managed to send her parents a message in the morning to let them know she was safe. Because of this, a large pile of unread messages had accumulated on WeChat, and she simply hadn’t noticed the others for a while.

She pressed her lips together and said apologetically, “I’m sorry, I’ve been too busy these past few days and didn’t have time to check the messages on my phone.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Song Yangling picked up the phone beside her. “Then I’ll add you again now. Remember to accept my request when you go back this time, okay?”

“Alright, I’ll go get my phone in a bit.” Ruan Mian actually guessed some of the reasons why Song Yangling wanted to add her on WeChat, but neither of them pointed it out.

“No worries, there’s no rush.” Song Yangling smiled. “You’re leaving the day after tomorrow early in the morning, right?”

The medical team Song Yangling was with was the second batch of reinforcements sent by the affiliated hospital. They likely wouldn’t be able to withdraw from here until the end of the month.

“Yes, the day after tomorrow morning flight.”

“I really envy you all. But I also really admire you. Back when the situation was so dangerous, you still held on.”

Ruan Mian smiled. “Circumstances make the person. If it were you, it would be the same.”

“Maybe.” Song Yangling’s line of sight happened to face the main entrance. When Chen Yi came in closing his umbrella, she saw him at a glance.

At that moment, Ruan Mian was thinking about how to end this rather meaningless polite conversation. Raising her eyes, she noticed Song Yangling staring fixedly at something behind her. Instinctively, she followed her gaze.

Chen Yi had closed his umbrella but hadn’t come in yet. At the entrance, he ran into Yu Zhou and Zhou Ziheng who had come out for some air, and stopped to exchange a few words.

Zhou Ziheng had injured his left leg during an earlier rescue operation, leaving him with a permanent disability. Once they returned from this trip, he would have to step down from the frontlines.

Although he seemed to be in decent spirits after the injury and occasionally joked around with the team, Chen Yi knew he was suffering inside.

For people in their line of work, they would rather die wrapped in horsehide than spend a lifetime with such regrets. Chen Yi couldn’t offer much comfort; he could only hope Zhou Ziheng wouldn’t give up on himself.

“I understand, thank you, Captain Chen.” Zhou Ziheng sat in a wheelchair, his face resolute and steady, but in fact he had just celebrated his twenty-first birthday before coming here.

Chen Yi gripped his shoulder and said, “It’s cold outside, let Yu Zhou push you inside.”

Zhou Ziheng smiled. “It’s fine, I want to look at this place a while longer.”

He nodded and said nothing more. He exchanged a glance with Yu Zhou, then lifted his feet to walk inside. Seeing the person standing at the consultation desk, his gaze paused for a moment though his footsteps didn’t stop.

Chen Yi only discovered when he walked closer that there was someone sitting behind Ruan Mian. The other person greeted him first in a soft voice, “Captain Chen, good evening.”

He nodded in acknowledgment, scratched his eyebrow, and looked at Ruan Mian. “Are you busy right now? I need to change my bandage.”

“Not busy, let’s go.” Ruan Mian picked up the medical chart clipboard from the counter and turned back to say to Song Yangling, “I’ll head over first.”

“Ah, okay.” Song Yangling stared at the backs of the two people, her expression thoughtful.

It was already late at night. There weren’t many people in the treatment room. Outside the window was the pitter-patter of rain. Chen Yi sat by the table while the nurse organized the instruments that would be used shortly.

Ruan Mian pulled over a stool and sat down, unwrapping the bandage on his arm. Her voice, muffled by a mask, carried a touch of haziness. “It’s healing quite well. Probably just need to change the dressing one or two more times.”

Chen Yi looked at her profile and hummed softly in acknowledgment before asking, “When are you going back?”

“The day after tomorrow morning.” Ruan Mian casually asked, “What about you?”

“Also the day after tomorrow morning.” Chen Yi turned his head away, his gaze falling to the side. He saw two shadows on the ground pressed close together. As movements rose and fell, the two shadows silently exchanged a kiss.

Chen Yi coughed lightly, touching his neck and uncomfortably shifting his gaze away.

But Ruan Mian hadn’t noticed any of this. She was only thinking that once they returned from here, she and Chen Yi would each go back to their respective lives, perhaps once again becoming two parallel lines with no intersection.

Just like before—only brief moments of crossing and meeting, then diverging in opposite directions in the days to come, growing further and further apart.

Silence descended imperceptibly.

Neither of them spoke again. There was only the occasional sound of instruments clinking. The nurse beside them felt somewhat puzzled, not understanding how the atmosphere had suddenly grown cold. Her eyes kept darting back and forth between them.

After treating the wound, Ruan Mian also put away those wandering thoughts. She removed her gloves and mask and gave gentle instructions, “All done. Still need to be careful these next few days—try to avoid getting it wet.”

“Okay, understood.” Chen Yi put on his jacket, fastening each button one by one. His figure was tall and straight. “Then I’ll be going first.”

Ruan Mian raised her head to look at him, her eyes dark and bright. “Okay.”

Chen Yi didn’t say anything more. He nodded and walked forward. Ruan Mian didn’t move, just staring blankly at his retreating back, but unexpectedly he suddenly stopped and turned back to look at her.

She was caught in the act. Suppressing her panic and racing heartbeat, she blinked and asked with feigned composure, “What is it?”

But Chen Yi said nothing. He smiled faintly. “Nothing. We’ll talk when we’re back in City B.”

After saying this, he left. Ruan Mian stood dazed for a long while, until the nurse finished cleaning up and called out “Dr. Ruan,” finally snapping her out of it.

She lowered her head and sighed softly, not taking his words too much to heart.

The next morning, after a brief rest, Ruan Mian began coordinating with colleagues who came to take over, handing off work. Once she got busy, most of the day passed.

In the afternoon, after the rain cleared, the local Luolin television station sent people over to interview this batch of personnel who were about to withdraw, especially the first batch of unofficial medical teams that had spontaneously organized in the disaster area when the earthquake first occurred.

After the interview ended, the photographer took a group photo of everyone. Someone from the medical team added the photographer on WeChat and requested the photo, which was then forwarded to the medical team’s large group chat.

In that photo, Ruan Mian and Chen Yi stood under the same blue sky and white clouds, far apart from each other. But still, this was one of the few photos the two of them had together so far.

Ruan Mian saved the photo. Later, after returning, she posted it to her Moments along with other photos.

…

On the morning of their departure, the military district sent vehicles to take medical personnel to various airports and stations. Ruan Mian only learned after boarding the vehicle that Chen Yi was leading the group taking them to the airport.

However, one was in the rear compartment and the other in the driver’s compartment. Aside from Chen Yi helping her up when boarding and saying “be careful,” there was no other communication.

Luolin was a mountainous area. Going out required passing through a stretch of rugged, steep mountain roads. The vehicle bounced along the whole way. Some people couldn’t stand it and wanted to vomit, clinging to the rear of the vehicle and vomiting directly outside.

Chen Yi, sitting in front, noticed the commotion in the vehicle compartment. He had the driver pull over to the side, told his teammates to watch the surroundings, and went to check on the back himself.

He stood outside the vehicle. On this day of brilliant sunshine, he squinted slightly as he looked inside, his voice gentle. “What happened?”

“Nothing serious, just a bit of motion sickness and vomiting.” The female doctor had vomited until her face was pale, and her voice also carried a feeling of breathlessness.

Chen Yi raised his hand to scratch his neck and said, “There’s still quite a distance to the airport. I’ll have the driver stop here for a while. You all come down and rest a bit.”

“Alright then.”

Chen Yi lowered the rear tailgate and stood to the side. Whoever came down and needed help, he lent a hand. When it was Ruan Mian’s turn, he took a small step forward, gripping her arm and supporting her from top to bottom. Only when she stood steady did he let go.

As he let go, Ruan Mian lowered her head and said, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He stood back in position, his footsteps grinding over small stones, making faint sounds. Shen Yu, who was also accompanying the convoy behind them, saw the situation ahead and also had the driver pull over.

He jumped down from the passenger seat, hands on his waist as he walked over, frowning as he asked, “What happened?”

Chen Yi hooked his hand on his belt, walking slowly to meet him. “Nothing, someone has motion sickness. Sitting here to rest a bit before continuing.”

“Then let’s rest for a bit too.” Shen Yu turned back to have Xiao Du tell everyone to come down for some fresh air, then turned back to ask Chen Yi, “What did you go say to Ruan Mian last night?”

Chen Yi eyed him. “Even the matchmaker god doesn’t manage things this broadly, right?”

“Screw off!” Shen Yu punched his shoulder without good humor. “Let me tell you in advance, I’m trying to help you out of good intentions here. Don’t be like a dog biting Lu Dongbin, not recognizing a good person’s heart.”

Chen Yi smiled without speaking.

Both were men of outstanding appearance. Standing there chatting for a bit, several female doctors had already come over with their phones.

Lin Jiahui, sitting to the side, nudged Ruan Mian’s shoulder. “Look, if you don’t make a move, there will always be people who actively will. Such a good piece of meat—can you bear to let these people with ulterior motives snatch it away?”

“The meat doesn’t have my name written on it.” Ruan Mian looked toward the lush green pines and cypresses at the bottom of the cliff, appearing completely uninterested in worldly competition.

“Just wait and regret it.”

…

On the other side, after Chen Yi refused the fifth person who came to add him on WeChat, he patted Shen Yu’s shoulder, raised his hand to fasten his cap, “Not resting anymore, let’s go.”

Shen Yu detected his impatience, snorted with laughter, then remembered something. “By the way, did you add Ruan Mian on WeChat?”

Chen Yi was startled. “No.”

“Then what about her phone number? You should at least have kept one of those.” Shen Yu laughed. “Can’t have gone through all this and still be at square one, right?”

“…”

There was still half an hour of driving left to the airport. Chen Yi didn’t find a suitable opportunity to talk to Ruan Mian. By the time they arrived at the location, airport staff had already set up welcome banners in advance.

Medical personnel got out of the vehicles one after another. Chen Yi and other teammates who accompanied the convoy lined up in front of the vehicles. Ruan Mian stood in the crowd carrying her bag.

All around were sounds of applause and cheers. Chen Yi straightened his uniform, standing at the front of the formation, his figure tall and upright, his voice steady and powerful. “Everyone, attention!”

“—Salute!”

Their movements were uniform and synchronized. Every gesture carried solemnity and gravity, their bearing calm and restrained. Combined with those uniforms, they appeared especially crisp and efficient.

The entire scene fell quiet. Some people couldn’t help but redden their eyes. Through the crowd of figures, Ruan Mian saw that straight-standing figure. The seemingly calm heart beneath her chest had begun to fluctuate.

She silently withdrew her gaze, lowering her head to take a deep breath, suppressing the loss of control within her heart, letting everything return to the starting point.

The group carried their luggage into the airport terminal. Looking back, they were still standing in place, upright as pines and cypresses.

Ruan Mian walked quickly. Coming face to face, she accidentally bumped into a man. Both stopped to apologize, then brushed past each other.

This was originally just a minor incident. But when Ruan Mian boarded the plane and heard the flight attendant remind everyone to turn off their phones, she couldn’t find her phone no matter how she searched. She suddenly realized, “Could that man who bumped into me have been an airport pickpocket?”

Lin Jiahui lowered her tray table to look at her. “You lost your phone?”

“I don’t know. Try calling my number.” Because of work habits, they basically kept their phones on with sound year-round.

Lin Jiahui made several calls in succession. All of them went to voicemail.

She turned off her phone and said, “It might not necessarily be lost. Maybe you put it in your bag or stuffed it somewhere without noticing. Look for it again after we land. We can’t get off now anyway.”

Ruan Mian sighed. “That’s the only option.”

The flight from Luolin to City B took several hours. Everyone on this flight was medical personnel from earthquake relief and disaster aid. Shortly after boarding, they all fell asleep.

Ruan Mian originally felt somewhat drowsy, but because she was thinking about her phone, she couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. Thinking it over and over, she inevitably thought of other things.

Just enduring like this for several hours, she only fell asleep shortly before landing, and before she could sleep deeply, Lin Jiahui woke her to prepare for disembarkation.

After leaving the airport, on the bus back to the hospital, Ruan Mian turned her meager luggage inside out five or six times searching, but still didn’t find her phone.

Lin Jiahui even searched through her own bag—also nothing.

“Forget it, stop looking. It must be lost.” In her mind, Ruan Mian recalled the person who had bumped into her earlier—thick eyebrows, small eyes, wearing a mask so his appearance wasn’t clear. Even if she wanted to look for him, it was too late. Moreover, she had no evidence to prove he had taken her phone. She could only accept her bad luck.

From the airport to the hospital was still over an hour’s drive. Ruan Mian suddenly remembered something and borrowed Lin Jiahui’s phone, fiddling with it for a while.

Lin Jiahui asked, “What are you doing?”

“Sending something.” She found that group photo in the chat, sent it from Lin Jiahui’s QQ to herself, then deleted the record before returning the phone.

Lin Jiahui took the phone back, saying with some amusement, “Why have you been so secretive lately?”

“Have I?” She smiled without saying more.

When they arrived at the hospital, the hospital leadership made a sweeping gesture and gave them all three days off. Ruan Mian and Lin Jiahui lived together. When they got home, Lin Jiahui went to shower first. Ruan Mian rummaged through a drawer to find her other old phone, plugged it in to charge, and after turning it on, tried calling her own phone again.

This time it wasn’t turned off, but rather automatically disconnected after a long period with no one answering.

An inexplicable hope arose in Ruan Mian’s heart. She continued making several more calls, but all were in an unanswered state. When making the last call, Lin Jiahui came out after showering. Seeing her sitting there motionless, she asked, “What are you doing?”

Holding the phone, Ruan Mian turned back. “Calling my phone—”

Her words hadn’t finished when the beeping sound that had repeated many times in the receiver suddenly stopped, replaced by a low, pleasant male voice. “Hello?”

—

*Author’s note: Tomorrow you’ll get to see Captain Chen not wearing his military uniform*