The job transfer was practically settled. Mu Jing had planned to tell Qu Hua about it over the weekend, but he had gone out early in the morning.
Qu Hua’s mother knew where her son had gone—it was Yanyan’s death anniversary, but she couldn’t tell her daughter-in-law.
Qu Hua bought a bunch of gladiolus from the market; there were no flower shops anymore, and finding someone selling flowers wasn’t easy. At Yanyan’s gravestone, there was another person—Yuan Ling, Yanyan’s later boyfriend.
Yanyan’s parents worked out of town, so on this day, only these two men came to visit.
Qu Hua had been Yanyan’s boyfriend before being broken up with because Yanyan had fallen for someone else. Qu Hua had always believed that men and women had the freedom to choose again before marriage, but the breakup had come so suddenly that he hadn’t been prepared. Before that, they hadn’t even had a single argument, but he didn’t force anyone’s affection and agreed to the breakup quite readily.
Yuan Ling later asked Yanyan why she chose him. Yanyan said being with him was relaxing—a kind of ease she’d never imagined before. They talked freely about everything. Yanyan said he was like an old piece of clothing to her—perhaps not bright and new to others, but unexpectedly comfortable and fitting. Yuan Ling never asked what kind of clothing Qu Hua had been, though he probably was like an ill-fitting formal dress—though it didn’t fit well, it had been a youthful dream, something longed for day and night, just to wear it once, even briefly.
After much effort, she finally got to wear it but feared losing it, having to watch it twenty-four hours a day. It was exhausting, and besides, it didn’t fit—who would wear formal dress their whole life? Yanyan told Yuan Ling that he brought out her best side. What she didn’t say was that Qu Hua had brought out her worst—jealousy, insecurity… She liked listening to Qu Hua talk, but sometimes she couldn’t understand him at all.
Later in the hospital, Yuan Ling felt his uselessness—everything for Yanyan was arranged by Qu Hua. He couldn’t have gotten Yanyan a private room. He asked Yanyan if she regretted choosing him. Yanyan said no, laughing that if she were still with Qu Hua, she would surely feel even more unworthy of him now. But with Yuan Ling, she could be at ease being a burden to him, because if he got sick, she would take care of him too. While her “Brother Hua” seemed like he would never be weak.
To Yuan Ling, Qu Hua’s kindness to Yanyan surely meant he wasn’t over her—when you deeply love someone, you think anyone with eyes should love them too. Back then, Yuan Ling had wondered how Qu Hua could be so composed, caring so much for an ex-girlfriend, calmly discussing her condition with him as if he were just any other patient’s family member. They had married the day before the surgery, getting their marriage certificate with Qu Hua’s help while they stayed in the hospital. They even gave Qu Hua some wedding candy.
When Yanyan was wheeled out of the operating room, Yuan Ling didn’t get back a living Yanyan—the Yanyan who returned would never smile at him again. He lost control momentarily, grabbing Qu Hua’s collar, and asking if he had deliberately sabotaged the surgery for revenge. That day, the operating room staff witnessed the usually rational Dr. Qu’s one-sided beating of a patient’s family member, who offered no resistance. He demanded of the deceased’s boyfriend, “Why didn’t you bring her to the hospital earlier?”
The incident was contained within a small circle—a doctor beating a patient’s family member would look terrible if word got out. The patient had died, and it was understandable for family members to be emotional. They needed time to process, and even if they said something inappropriate in the heat of the moment, it could be ignored—but how could someone resort to violence? The chief surgeon also felt Qu Hua had gone too far.
Dr. Shen, the lead surgeon, had only recently returned from the farm because an important figure needed surgery that only he could perform. After that successful operation, he stayed at the hospital, though now he rarely performed surgery. Yanyan’s cancer had already reached a late stage and wasn’t suitable for surgery. Conservative treatment might have extended her life, though those extra months wouldn’t have had much quality of life. If not for Qu Hua’s request, he wouldn’t have attempted it—failure would bring him nothing but harm. Qu Hua was still young and impetuous and hadn’t experienced life’s hardships.
The hospital administration proactively offered Yuan Ling free medical examinations and gave Qu Hua a two-week suspension with orders to write a self-criticism.
After Yuan Ling came to his senses, he didn’t pursue any action against Qu Hua, instead writing a letter of thanks to the hospital. If Yanyan hadn’t broken up with Qu Hua, her condition might not have been discovered so late. Besides, the surgery was Yanyan’s choice—Qu Hua had recommended conservative treatment, but Yanyan preferred surgery even if it failed, rather than continuing to suffer. He thought Qu Hua must still have feelings for Yanyan, not as free of jealousy as Yanyan had claimed. It was because of these feelings that he had taken such good care of Yanyan and beaten him so viciously, blaming him for not bringing Yanyan to the hospital sooner.
Yanyan had been prepared for the surgery to fail. She had distributed her belongings beforehand. Since the hospital and surgery costs were covered by her work unit, and other expenses were handled by Qu Hua and Yuan Ling, she hadn’t touched her savings. She left all her savings to Yuan Ling, telling him to eat well, as he had lost weight caring for her. She also left him a vest—she had wanted to knit him a sweater but didn’t have time to finish the sleeves. She thought the yarn looked nice as a vest, but Yuan Ling said he still wanted a sweater, and she could finish the sleeves after she recovered. But the sleeves would never be finished now.
She left Qu Hua six volumes of stamps—her grandfather’s decades-long collection, representing half a lifetime of savings. She couldn’t safeguard them anymore, so she entrusted them to her grandfather’s old friend—her “Brother Hua.” Before surgery, she told Yuan Ling where to find the stamps and asked him to deliver them.
Yuan Ling gave the stamps to Qu Hua and thanked him on Yanyan’s behalf—after all, he and Yanyan had been family.
Every year on this day, they meet here.
This year, Yuan Ling learned that Qu Hua had finally married. He was happy for both Qu Hua and Yanyan—though the man she chose wasn’t as good as Qu Hua in many ways, he loved her more than anyone, and he would never marry again.
“I thought you wouldn’t come this year. The thought is enough—you shouldn’t come anymore. Your wife probably wouldn’t be happy about it.”
“She’s not that petty.”
“Unless she doesn’t care about you at all.”
Qu Hua’s mother had witnessed her son’s romantic history. Mothers rarely find fault with their sons, especially when their son is truly exceptional. She had always believed Yanyan had broken up with Qu Hua and found someone else to avoid burdening him. Thinking her so kind-hearted, she had always sent food and supplies during her hospitalization. But no matter how good Yanyan was, she had passed away. Mu Jing was quite good too, and since they were married, old feelings should be cut off.
Mu Jing first told her mother-in-law about her plans to work in another city.
On such a day, when her usually obliging daughter-in-law suddenly made this request, it must have been triggered by Qu Hua’s visit to Yanyan’s grave.
She explained to her daughter-in-law that it was all from years ago. Qu Hua had been close to Yanyan’s grandfather, who had asked Qu Hua to look after his granddaughter before he died. They had dated for a while, but then Yanyan found another boyfriend. Qu Hua had long since made peace with it—he even helped Yanyan and her boyfriend get their marriage certificate. Now that Yanyan was gone, there was even less to it. She omitted the part about her son beating Yanyan’s boyfriend after coming out of the operating room. Even as she said this, she didn’t quite believe it herself.
But if there was nothing, why rush to explain? Perhaps it was because she thought there was something that made her explain this way. She had never seen a man so magnanimous as to help his ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend get their marriage certificate—pretending to be magnanimous seemed more believable. Mu Jing said she trusted Qu Hua, but she wanted to go to a more suitable position to work for the country.
Her mother-in-law advised, “Family is most important for a woman.”
Mu Jing didn’t dislike her mother-in-law; on the contrary, she was grateful for her care. But she found this statement laughable—talking about family being most important to someone who had cut off contact with her parents. She still remembered her mother’s words: “I gave birth to you so you could achieve self-realization—only then does passing on genes have value.” Her mother had high hopes for both her and her brother, while for her younger brother, she only hoped he could live healthily and safely, as he was the youngest, an unexpected child. To be the dutiful daughter her mother defined, she had to be unfilial to her parents first. If she stayed here for Qu Hua, it would be doubly unfilial to her parents.
Fortunately, there were no deep feelings between her and Qu Hua, so she didn’t even need to hesitate.
Her mother-in-law thought Mu Jing was upset about Yanyan. When Qu Hua returned, she briefly told him about Mu Jing’s plans to work elsewhere, asking him to explain things properly to Mu Jing.
“I told Mu Jing that you and Yanyan were long over. Yanyan was a good girl, but even if she were still alive, you wouldn’t have married her. Now that you’re married, you should take responsibility.”
Qu Hua laughed inwardly—Mother was getting more confused, as if Mu Jing’s coming and going were his decision. Mu Jing said this probably meant she had already made arrangements, just informing them today. It wasn’t about being upset by him at all—viewing Mu Jing that way underestimated her. He had gained some respect for her—she had endured humility in their home to gain an opportunity to work in a difficult region while trying to bring her brother over. Now that her brother wasn’t coming, she was leaving without hesitation.
She was truly calculating, and able to bend and stretch as needed.
Mu Jing was searching for her luggage in the bedroom. Some of her clothes were hanging in the wardrobe, all to be taken to the branch school.
Mu Jing hadn’t asked where he’d been, because it wasn’t really important.
The mimeographed lecture notes weren’t finished, and Qu Hua asked Mu Jing to continue teaching him. Since it was daytime, Mu Jing thought Qu Hua simply wanted to listen to the lecture.
Qu Hua pulled up a chair, sat across from Mu Jing, and smoked.
He looked Mu Jing up and down, the smoke making her faceless distinct. Mu Jing’s coughing didn’t make Qu Hua stop smoking, and she didn’t say “Please don’t smoke.” When she coughed, she instinctively covered her mouth—compared to her, Qu Hua seemed very impolite. After she finished coughing, she continued lecturing Qu Hua. Finally, Qu Hua couldn’t resist and went to the window to smoke.
The smoke in front of Mu Jing quickly dispersed.
“We’ve just gotten married, and you want us to live apart. Do you think there’s any point in continuing this marriage?”
He was threatening her. Mu Jing stopped lecturing and walked behind him, embracing his waist and pressing her face against his back. “Of course there is. There are plenty of couples living apart for work. I’ve never seen anyone divorce their spouse just because of work separation. You’re not that backward.”
Qu Hua divorcing her just because she was going to work elsewhere would look terrible. Even if they were to divorce, they should wait a year or two.
“It’s not like I’m never coming back. I heard this branch might move here, it’s just a matter of a year or two. Besides, it’s not that far—I can still come back to see you.”
Qu Hua sneered, “Who told you the branch would move here in a year or two?”
“I have my sources. I also want to do important work, to be more worthy of you.” Once she achieved something, divorcing him wouldn’t matter.
“You’re already worthy of me.”
Mu Jing reached out to stroke Qu Hua’s face. “That’s just love’s blind eyes—it doesn’t count.” As if they were a deeply in love couple, though both knew they weren’t.
“I think you’re the only one who feels unworthy of me.”
Qu Hua turned and gripped her chin, kissing her mouth. Mu Jing meant to dodge—she didn’t like the taste of smoke on his breath—but once their lips touched, she decided to reciprocate, naturally wrapping her arms around his neck. Qu Hua carried her to the bed, their faces close. Only then did Mu Jing push him away. “It’s broad daylight.” Her resistance came with a promise: “After dinner, anything goes.”
Qu Hua lay over Mu Jing, studying her face, and smiled. “I admire the sacrifices you make for your ideals.”
Mu Jing’s smile froze, then quickly revived. She deliberately twisted the meaning of “sacrifice.” “This is our mutual sacrifice, and I’ll need your support. Don’t you think I want to be with you every day? But work requires some sacrifices. If your work required you to go elsewhere, I believe you would go, and I would support you.”
“I truly married a virtuous wife.” Of course, she would support him—she couldn’t wait to get away from him. He had thought their relationship had grown closer these past days, but it was just his wishful thinking. His wife had only gotten better at acting.
He even felt that the first time he met Mu Jing, when she was cursing in the street, was better than now—at least that had been genuine.
He didn’t want to hear any more of her perfunctory words. He started unbuttoning her clothes, and she wore an expression of noble sacrifice. This time she didn’t even say to wait until evening. When Qu Hua kissed her mouth, he felt her hesitate before compliantly offering her tongue. He buttoned her clothes back up, one by one.
“Fang Mu Jing, what do you take me for?”
Mu Jing heard the door open and close. After a long while, she opened her eyes—she was alone in the bedroom.
Qu Hua didn’t come home for dinner. His mother thought he and Mu Jing had argued it out, and was very polite to her during the meal.
The neurosurgery colleagues noticed Dr. Qu’s expression had grown even colder lately, bringing a chill to these late summer days. But autumn was coming, and they couldn’t bear him staying this cold. Now Dr. Qu only sutured a few select surgeries himself, leaving the rest to his assistants. Once, when a second assistant’s surgical sutures earned Dr. Qu’s approval, it became a minor talking point in the department. Qu Hua never lost his temper in the operating room—even when dissatisfied with an assistant’s technique, he would only give the most precise instructions for them to follow. But outside the operating room, when his mood was bad, his tolerance wore thin. He didn’t yell, but if someone brought him what they thought was a difficult case when similar cases had recently come to the hospital, or if someone made the same mistake twice, he would ask after explaining: “Got it?” These two words, though quiet, carried devastating force. Fortunately, he had been saying this to many people lately, which somewhat diluted the impact.
Department colleagues asked Dr. Zhao, currently in Qu’s good graces, to share tips on avoiding his displeasure. Dr. Zhao smiled slightly: “Even if I taught you, you couldn’t learn. We need to address the root problem.” Dr. Zhao’s preliminary diagnosis was domestic trouble since his senior colleague was taking even more night shifts than before. Someone suggested Dr. Zhao invite Dr. Qu’s wife over to mediate—if things stayed bad, everyone would suffer. Dr. Chen added, “It can’t be about smoking, right? My wife and I argue plenty about smoking. I thought Young Qu’s wife didn’t mind his smoking—couldn’t she just express her stance? Does she need to come supervise him at the hospital?” Qu Hua wasn’t like him, depending on his wife’s private allowance. After calling him “Young Qu,” Dr. Chen corrected himself—though he was older than Qu Hua, his professional rank was lower.
Dr. Chen’s suggestion wasn’t well-received. Dr. Zhao thought Old Chen’s limited personal circumstances restricted his imagination—after all, Chen’s wife trusted him completely. Zhao theorized that there were too many pretty female doctors and nurses in the department and hospital, and since Senior Qu often worked night shifts, his wife had misunderstood. Someone needed to tell her that Senior Qu had been pure these years, focused only on surgery. Though he had touched many women, it was only for surgery, unavoidable, and their department’s pretty young nurses were also very proper.
Though the department colleagues thought Dr. Zhao wasn’t serious, they agreed he had a point, and after discussion, decided to send him on this mission.
But before Dr. Zhao could go, Mu Jing arrived. Qu Hua ignored her but didn’t make things difficult—that alone deserved gratitude. Not knowing what to say, she specially prepared two dishes to show her care. Her father-in-law, hearing she was going to a third-tier city, actually approved. When her mother-in-law said it wasn’t good for newlyweds to live apart, he said if Qu Hua didn’t want separation, he should also go support the third-tier regions. Her mother-in-law still believed she had misunderstood Yanyan and that’s why she was leaving, showing that although Qu Hua was disappointed in her, he hadn’t said anything to his family. Having seen many unsavory people, she found Qu Hua’s character admirable.
Qu Hua wasn’t in the on-call room. She meant to leave after dropping off the food, but Dr. Zhao saw her and insisted on telling her about Qu Hua’s years of abstinent life. Mu Jing thought to herself, that it wasn’t for her sake that he had remained pure. After Qu Hua’s years of abstinence, she had come along—probably just a minor setback in his smooth life, nothing more.
Qu Hua came in, and Dr. Zhao tactfully left the room to the couple, letting them talk.
Dr. Zhao hadn’t been scheduled for duty today. Leaving, he saw Dr. Wang, who was on duty with Qu Hua and nodded toward another on-call room: “Wait in that one—Dr. Qu’s wife is here.”
Dr. Wang nodded understandingly. Seeing a pretty nurse from the department, Zhao said, “I’ll cover Senior Qu’s shift tonight. If there are any issues, find me.”
The nurse looked at him, then lowered her head to fill out forms, as if saying “Are you up to it?”
“Is that how you treat our department’s future expert?”
The nurse couldn’t help but smile.
“Fine, I’ll forgive your blindness for now. Tired of Senior Qu’s cold face? Our sister-in-law’s here to rescue you all today. I don’t mind, but you all…”
“Enough joking. But what if other departments need Dr. Qu for emergency consultations?”
Just then, a young doctor from urology came saying Dr. Yu needed Dr. Qu for a consultation. Zhao smiled, “Your Dr. Yu’s asking the wrong person—Dr. Qu’s experience in this area is far below mine. Not just me, any front-line doctor would have more experience than him in this.” The young doctor was speechless at Zhao’s boasting. Zhao patted his shoulder, “Quick, lead the way!”
“But…”
Zhao didn’t let him finish, putting an arm around his shoulders and walking forward.
Mu Jing took out the food, wiped the chopsticks, and placed them beside Qu Hua. “Eat. I’m leaving.”
Qu Hua pulled a train ticket from his pocket—a sleeper berth ticket for tomorrow to the city where she would work. She didn’t remember telling him when she was leaving.
“I bought a ticket already.” She had bought a hard seat ticket.
“Return one of them. I don’t have time to return mine.”
Mu Jing wanted to ask when he had bought the ticket but couldn’t bring herself to.
Qu Hua ate with his head down, quickly. After a while, he looked up and asked, “Do you have anything else?”
Mu Jing’s mouth opened and closed before finally saying, “No.”
“Take your time eating. I’m leaving first.”
Her words got no response from Qu Hua. Until the door closed, he never looked up.
Outside, Mu Jing met the young nurse, who casually observed her expression. Coming for such a short time and leaving without any joy on her face—for her colleagues’ happiness, the nurse gathered her courage and said to Mu Jing, “Dr. Zhao is covering Dr. Qu’s shift today. Would you like to stay a bit longer?”
“No need.”
The nurse sighed deeply—when would this end?