“Mm,” she said. “There’s no rib at all on the left side of the chest, just a lump of tissue the size of a fist. It’s a congenital malformation of the fetus.”

“It’s indeed a birth defect.”

“What does the patient want?”

“He wants a normal chest contour, so he can take off his shirt at the beach.”

“Actually—” Yipin hesitated, about to say something and then stopping.

“Yes, we’ve given him psychological counseling, repeatedly emphasizing that appearance isn’t the most important thing. But we’re not him — only he knows the pain of being mocked since childhood.”

“First we need to smooth down the excess tissue, then have a silicone implant custom-made to fill the depression, and finally suture it closed.”

The doctors laughed. “We thought the same thing, except — to know exactly how much to grind down, we’d really need a Michelangelo to guide us.”

“Do a 3D sketch, run a simulation on the computer. Come on, let’s start right away.”

Yipin was completely absorbed in her work and didn’t notice someone watching her through the doorway. The blue light of the lightbox reflected in her eyes; her focused beauty, glowing faintly, held Xiong Zaihao rooted at the door, staring.

Truly a woman unlike any other.

He had once spent three days and nights without sleep with male and female colleagues out in the wilderness, chipping away at rock, enduring hardship, and when they finally found what they were looking for, everyone had embraced and cheered — but none of it had anything to do with saving lives.

This was the first time he had seen a young woman in the prime of her life directing an entire team in treating a patient.

Just then Yipin looked up and saw him.

She hurriedly said to the others, “I’m going to get a cup of coffee.”

She walked over to Xiong Zaihao. “What brings you here?” There was a flicker of pleasant surprise in her voice.

“The nurse said you wouldn’t be back at the clinic all day.”

“Do you have something urgent?”

“Yes. University researchers found fossilized footprints of an early reptile. I need to fly to Ireland right away to join them.”

“Oh, what’s that about?”

“Life came from the ocean, then evolved onto land. Fish grew limbs and moved onto the continents — their fins have the same structure as our arm bones.”

Yipin said, a little irritated, “More like the same structure as yours. I was created by God — I hate the theory of evolution. Your ancestors were chimpanzees.”

“Eh, that doesn’t sound like something a doctor would say.”

“It’s exactly because I’m a doctor that I say it.”

Excitedly, he told Yipin, “This means vertebrates appeared on Earth even earlier than we thought.”

Yipin found this funny. “Did you come to say goodbye?”

“That’s right.”

“Safe travels, then.”

“Neither of us has a nine-to-five job,” he said, a little wistful.

Yipin comforted him. “These days even civil servants work at least eight to six.”

“No matter how advanced technology gets, it never seems to give us back our free time.”

“When will you be back?”

“Not sure.”

Yipin felt a pang of loss. “Well then, let’s stay in touch.”

“I’ve been thinking, Yipin — Ireland has beautiful scenery. Would you… come visit sometime, on holiday?”

Yipin smiled. “I’m not planning to take time off any time soon.”

“I understand.”

He embraced her gently for a moment, then quietly left.

People are all selfish at heart, always wanting the other person to give up everything and come to them.

Yipin returned to the conference room to continue discussing the surgery with her colleagues.

But even she noticed that her voice had lost its usual energy.

Maybe she really was just tired.

If she could take a holiday, perhaps she would choose Ireland after all.

That afternoon, they met the patient — very young, only twenty-three or twenty-four, thin, with his left chest protruding as though a ball were hidden beneath the skin.

Seeing the young female doctor, he grew a little bashful. Yipin did her best to put him at ease, explaining the surgical process to him.

Suddenly he began to cry.

Yipin comforted him softly: this was for him — in this world, there wasn’t a single person who didn’t have some regret of their own. When she left the hospital, she got an unexpected call from Xiong Zaihao.

“Yipin, there’s something I need to ask of you.”

“Go ahead.”

“I promised to give Xiao Beiluo a cat.”

“I can take care of it for you.”

“I already found one — adopted from an animal cruelty prevention society. But it turned out to be sick, so I sent it to the animal hospital for treatment.”

“Which hospital? I can pick it up and deliver it to the Jin residence for you.”

“You’d bother with something so trivial?”

“Don’t mention it.”

“It’s at Ark Animal Hospital.”

Oh — that happened to be the very hospital where Erjing worked.

“Just tell them you’re there for Xiong Zaihao’s cat, they’ll know.”

“Good, I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.”

The conversation was over, but Xiong Zaihao didn’t hang up right away — that lingering silence spoke of endless reluctance.

Yipin said nothing either. At times like this, one wrong word could mean owing an explanation later.

“Take care,” he finally said, and hung up.

That afternoon, Yipin took time out to go to Ark Hospital to pick up the cat.

The receptionist recognized her. “Dr. Yang, hello. The cat you’re here for is right over here.”

She lifted the cat out, and Yipin looked at it closely. “Ah, I remember you — the naughty cat that swallowed all those coins.”

“Dr. Yang has such a good memory.”

“Where’s my sister?”

“In the operating room, doing surgery on a rare white python.”

“Oh?”

“It mistook ping-pong balls for bird eggs and swallowed a whole box of them — its owner was frantic.”

“What kind of person keeps a snake?”

“A photographer. He’s had it for three years.”

“Tell her I stopped by.”

Yipin carried the cat carrier out, got into her car, and placed her hands on the steering wheel. Suddenly a memory surfaced.

It was Erjing who had specially called her over that time, to look at this coin-eating tortoiseshell cat.

Yipin had asked, “You called me over just for this?”

Erjing had said, “The owner is right outside.”

Ah — so that was it.

Erjing had smiled. “Help me size him up.”

Yipin remembered saying, “Whatever you like yourself is fine.”

That owner had been Xiong Zaihao.

A faint ringing sounded in Yipin’s ears.

The man Erjing had her eye on was Xiong Zaihao.

Yipin started the car immediately and drove the cat to the Jin residence.

Best to deal with this errand first, and think about everything else later.

She exchanged a few pleasantries with Mrs. Jin.

“Beiluo’s gone to school.”

“How is she doing with her studies?”

“She doesn’t talk much, but there’s no problem with her reading or drawing.”

“Does she like to play?”

“She’s rather shy, but the teacher says her classmates are kind to her.” “I hope this cat will be a good companion for her.”

“It’s a pity we’ll soon be traveling far.”

“Never mind — if Beiluo doesn’t take to it, just bring it back to me.”

“Thank you, Dr. Yang.”

Leaving the Jin residence, Yipin felt a stone still pressing on her chest.

In a situation like this, it no longer mattered who had known him first, who had seen him first — the only thing to do was withdraw at once, to give Erjing the room and time to let this relationship develop.

The moment this thought crossed her mind, Yipin felt a weight lift.

Having no choice is often the best choice — there was only one road to take: sever any connection with Xiong Zaihao as early as possible.

Once she’d made the decision, she couldn’t help feeling a pang of bitterness. If only she’d been a little bolder, a little more reckless, there would already be someone by her side.

Somehow her reason always won out over her desires — she was destined to be a loser in that regard.

Yipin fell silent.

Back at the clinic, she looked at herself properly and was shocked — how haggard she looked!

Yang Yipin, Yang Yipin, you’ve let another chance slip away.

The nurse, Aunt Peng, came in and said, “Dr. Yang, I’ve already made an appointment for you with Dr. Li.”

Yipin looked up blankly. “An appointment with Dr. Li for what?”

“A stomach checkup.”

“I don’t want to see anyone.”

“Dr. Yang, what’s wrong with you?”

Yipin pressed a hand to her forehead. “Fine, fine, fine. When?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

Then Erjing’s call came through.

Yipin already knew what she was going to say, and instead felt strangely calm.

Erjing got straight to the point: “Sister, you picked up Xiong-something’s cat?”

“Yes.”

“You know Xiong-something?” Her voice carried real surprise.

“I know the cat’s new owner — a little girl named Jin Beiluo.”

“Oh, right, he did mention the cat would go to a child.” Erjing seemed to relax a little.

Then she asked again, “What do you think of him?”

“Think of who?”

“Xiong Zaihao.”

“I met him once at the Jin house. No particular impression.”

The moment the words left her mouth, even Yipin herself was startled — her tone had come out so calm, so clear, as if she were telling a patient they had a terminal illness.

“He didn’t seem to know we’re sisters.”

Finally Yipin asked, “Are you two seeing each other?”

“I’ve asked him out a few times, but he’s never free.”

“Well, keep trying then.”

“He’s already left the city,” Erjing sighed. “He won’t be back for a while.”

“Ah, well, let things take their course.”

Erjing finally changed the subject. “Will you come have dinner with Mother on Sunday?”

“No problem.”

After hanging up, Yipin realized her back was soaked through with sweat.

Ah — so she liked Xiong Zaihao more than she had realized herself, or was it that, knowing she must give him up, she’d suddenly become possessive of the thought? Yipin gave a hollow laugh. He was never hers to begin with, so there was nothing to give up. Besides, he wasn’t even in the city — this whole matter should already be over. In ten or so days, everyone would have forgotten all about it.

Toward evening, Yipin went to the hospital as usual to perform surgery. Somehow, the patients’ effusive thanks could no longer bring her any real joy.

Back home, the phone rang. Could it be Xiong Zaihao? By now he should have arrived in that sea-and-sky blue Ireland.

She would confront him directly: “Hey, did you know the two Dr. Yangs are sisters?”

She picked up the phone. On the other end was a young, girlish voice: “Senior Sister, it’s Li Benling.”

“Benling, how are you? Where are you now?”

“Yunnan, Guizhou — the work is going quite smoothly. I wanted to say hello to you specially, Senior Sister.”

“Good girl.”

“Senior Sister, I’d like to invite you to come visit.”

“Oh?”

“It’s about a four-hour flight. I’ll come pick you up. We have dormitories — if you come on a Saturday, you can go back on Sunday.”

Yipin considered this for a moment.

“Senior Sister, to be honest, there’s a lot we’d like to learn from you.”

Yipin laughed. “Benling, no need to be so polite about it. I’ll come.”

“Oh, I’m so happy I could die! I’ll have a friend contact you right away.”

She’d hardly hung up when the phone rang again — a voice even more energetic than Benling’s, full of life: “Dr. Yang, this is Zhou Yan. I’m handling your plane ticket. We’ll pick you up at six sharp Saturday morning.”

The knot in Yipin’s chest had already loosened by half. “Is there anything I should bring?”

“Dr. Yang, lots of candy, if you can.”

“Understood.”

Yipin suddenly felt her spirits lift. She immediately began packing a simple bag, and personally went to a candy shop to pick out all sorts of chocolates and lollipops, filling a whole box.

She postponed her appointment with Dr. Li first.

Then she told Erjing, “I’m busy this weekend — tell Mother I’ll skip this round.”

“Sister, do you have any news of Xiong-something?”

“Who?”

“Never mind.”

Never mind, indeed. In three weeks, no one would remember the name Xiong Zaihao anyway.

Yipin decided to go get some fresh air.

Saturday morning, early, the young man named Zhou Yan arrived right on time to pick her up.

He was handsome, quick-witted, always smiling — but he addressed her respectfully as Senior Sister throughout.

Perhaps, in his eyes, Yipin really was a senior figure — nothing but respect, no other feeling.

Yipin felt a touch of melancholy.

Back in medical school, whenever she appeared, men from eighteen to sixty would ask: who is that girl in the white coat and white skirt? Back then, men her senior hadn’t seemed to mind that she was just a young girl.

And now, in the blink of an eye, she’d become a revered senior sister.

Zhou Yan’s luggage was unusually large and impossibly heavy — at customs he explained it was medical supplies.

Yipin asked him, “Are you in surgery or internal medicine?”

“No, Senior Sister, I study architecture. On this trip I’m just a volunteer.”

Yipin nodded approvingly, the way an old person might: “Good, good.” On the plane, Yipin took out a book about the geography of Yunnan to read.

“Does Senior Sister drink Wuyi tea?”

“I prefer Longjing.”

“Have you ever heard of the peony flower?”

“Isn’t that basically the same as a herbaceous peony?”

“Does Senior Sister know there’s a rose that grows near the tea fields called ‘tea rose’?”

“I’ve heard of that — the British transplanted it to England and claimed it as their own.”

“Exactly.”

Zhou Yan was very talkative, chatting and laughing the whole way, and the flight was never dull.

Yipin was rather glad to have left the noisy city behind for a while.

“You spend so much time doing volunteer work — don’t your parents object?”

Zhou Yan smiled wryly. “This time, they can’t say no anymore.”

“Oh?”

“Last year I fell in love with a woman eight years older than me, divorced, with a child. My parents strongly opposed it. Everyone was miserable. In the end, for the greater good, we decided to break it off. This time I took a year off from school, and my parents didn’t dare object.”

Yipin made a small sound of surprise.

“I know clearly now — I won’t fall in love with anyone else again.”

Yipin didn’t feel it was her place to comment.

He sighed with feeling. “While I’m young, better to do things and read more — leave falling in love until middle age.”

Yipin laughed at that.

Zhou Yan went on: “I’ve always liked women closer to my own age — mature, smart, sensible… ah, well.”

He didn’t want to say more; clearly the wound of feeling was still tender, slow to heal.

Yipin closed her eyes to rest, and dozed off; by the time she woke, they had arrived.

She had imagined that young women in colorful ethnic dress with elaborate headpieces would come out to present flowers, but there was nothing of the sort — the place looked like an ordinary developing township. Li Benling met them and drove them to headquarters.

“Senior Sister honors us with her presence — we’re all so pleased.”

Zhou Yan gave Benling a shove. “If your Chinese isn’t good enough, don’t go throwing around idioms — showing off in front of an expert, Senior Sister will laugh at you.”

Yipin smiled.

As the car drove into the countryside, the surroundings became much simpler, but the makeshift hospital was quite tidy — what struck Yipin as unusual was that there were fans on the ceiling of the operating room.

That day she once again saw the anxious, sorrowful faces of mothers — their worry knew no borders, no nationality, no skin color, no age; but whenever mothers had a sick child, they all wore the same look of despair in their eyes.

Yipin was practically pulled into helping right away.

She examined several serious cases of cleft palate, showing the mothers before-and-after photos from surgery, telling them not to worry.

She raised her voice: “The children will be perfectly normal and lovable — just don’t reject them, love them all the more.”

At that moment, the candy she had brought served as an impromptu sedative — the crying children suddenly went quiet.

Yipin’s presence was a great source of encouragement to her junior colleagues. At noon, everyone sat down to eat together, and they kept piling food onto her plate.

Villagers brought over pastries to offer the doctors. Benling said, “The longer you stay here, the less you want to go back to the city.”

“Yes — now I understand a little why Dr. Shi Huaice stayed so long in Africa.”

“Here, we need you.”

“We’re treated with an almost sacred respect.”

“It’s just a pity Senior Sister has to go back tomorrow.”

“There’s an old woman crying outside the entrance. Zhou Yan, go take a look.”

Zhou Yan put down his chopsticks.

Yipin, curious, followed along.

There stood a young woman outside the clinic, weeping, holding a bundle wrapped tightly in cloth — clearly an infant.

Yipin stepped forward. “Let me see.”

The young woman stepped back instead.

Yipin said gently, “Weren’t you looking for a doctor? I’m right here. Let me see.”

The young woman’s eyes were full of fear.

“I’m a doctor. I’ve seen many cases. I’m not afraid.”

Slowly, the young woman unwrapped the bundle.

Everyone gasped softly at once.

Inside the wrapping were conjoined twins.

Yipin said quickly, “Please, come inside for some tea. I’ll explain everything to you slowly.”

She calmly picked up the infants and led the young woman into the clinic.

“Benling, explain to her how conjoined twins happen — tell her it’s not her fault, and it’s not some heavenly punishment on anyone.”

She examined the two infants.

Benling said, “They need to be transferred to the city hospital right away. She’s never told anyone about these children’s existence — poor woman.”

The babies’ eyes were dark and bright; their bellies and chests joined, four arms and four legs crowded together — yet Yipin felt not the slightest revulsion, only greater tenderness.

“What are their names?”

The young woman shook her head. “No names.”

“They’re already three months old — how can they not have names?”

“Please, doctor, give them two names.”

Yipin thought for a moment.

“Sister Yipin, what should we name them?”

Yipin considered. “The one with the pointed chin, call her Ziyu. The plumper one, call her Jixin.”

Zhou Yan nodded. “Right — the most important thing in life is to please yourself.”

Benling came back and said, “I’ve already contacted the city hospital!”

The young woman waved her hands anxiously. “I won’t go, I won’t go.”

Yipin crouched down and took her hands. “I’ll go with you.”

The young woman, unable to believe such a kind doctor could exist in this world, couldn’t hold back her tears.

Zhou Yan said, “I’ll drive.”

By the time they returned, it was already evening.

Benling came to ask, “How did it go?”

Zhou Yan answered, “Fortunately, the babies each have their own heart and lungs and spleen — it’s only the muscle tissue that’s fused. The surgery should be relatively straightforward, and full recovery is expected.”

Yipin stood alone in a corner and suddenly vomited.

“Senior Sister, drink some warm water.”

Yipin forced a smile. “I think I might have a stomach ulcer.”

“Senior Sister, let me take a look at you.”

Yipin found this rather amusing — she hadn’t expected to come all the way to Yunnan to get a stomach exam. She lay down, and Benling examined her carefully. “Sister Yipin, there’s a hard lump in your stomach.”

Yipin said, unconcerned, “I suppose it’s years of unresolved troubles all accumulated in one place.”

Benling laughed too. “Sister Yipin, when you get back, have an endoscopy done.”

She had her senior sister take some medicine.

Yipin said, “Come now, don’t let me have made this whole trip for nothing — let’s go be of service to the people.”

“Senior Sister is really something.”

That day, she worked alongside the other doctors until deep into the night, rested only briefly, and was back in the operating room again at dawn.

Before she left, she said with feeling, “A room needn’t be grand — where there’s a healer’s touch, there’s magic. You’re all angels.”

Benling said, “Senior Sister, come visit us whenever you have time.”

“I will, for sure.”

“I’ll see you off to the airport. When you get back, help us raise funds.”

“Of course.”

Zhou Yan saw her out too.

Yipin asked with a smile, “Where will you go next?”

“I was thinking of going to Kosovo, but as soon as my mother heard, she burst into tears — never mind, then.”

Yipin reached out and patted his shoulder.

Just before boarding, Benling reminded her again, “Sister Yipin, remember to see the doctor.”

Yipin nodded.

On the return flight she was alone, feeling a little forlorn. By the time she landed she was exhausted, and only when she got home did she realize she hadn’t washed her hair or showered in two days — she couldn’t help laughing at herself.

After bathing, she collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep.

Half-conscious, she asked herself: did she still remember Xiong Zaihao? Yes — she still had some memory of those strong shoulders. But it had already begun to fade.

Then came the unrelenting ring of the phone.

Yipin startled awake from her dream — she had never in her life been one to linger in bed, yet today was an exception.

It was the surprised voice of the nurse: “Dr. Yang, your patient is waiting.”

“What, what time is it?”

“Ten in the morning.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Waiting for her was a woman with large eyes; the moment she saw the doctor, she pinched her nose between thumb and forefinger. “I don’t want this big nose.”

Yipin sipped her coffee, smiling.

“Someone made fun of my eyes being too big, and my nose too, and there was one more thing they didn’t quite say out loud — that my mouth is even bigger.”

“Whatever people say, why let it bother you?”

“I dislike my nose myself too.”

Yipin said, “Do you believe in Chinese physiognomy? A round, full nose-tip means good fortune with money, especially in one’s middle years — wealth and status. People long for that and can’t get it! Just imagine — if you reach middle age without any savings, how miserable that would be.”

The woman hesitated. “Doctor, do you believe in physiognomy books?”

“Better to believe there’s something to it than to dismiss it entirely.”

“But—”

Yipin looked at her, smiling. “Go home and think it over?”

“Dr. Yang, they all say you’re the famous ‘go home and think it over’ doctor. I think that’s really admirable of you.”

Yipin said, “A little shading on the side of the nose can also make it look smaller.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

After seeing the client out, the nurse said with a wry smile, “There goes another sale.”

“Everyone’s well-fed and well-clothed these days, and yet women still lack confidence.”

“Dr. Yang, where did you go this weekend?”

Yipin told her about the trip.

“Oh,” the nurse said, visibly impressed, “how many cleft lips did you stitch up in total?”

“Fifteen. Some families drove ten hours to get there.”

“An operation of just over an hour, and it changes their whole life.”

“Yes — that’s exactly what makes it so meaningful. Apparently there’s a dental clinic in a neighboring village too, also doing good for the community.”

“By comparison, doctor, I imagine liposuction for actresses must feel pretty hollow.”

Yipin smiled. “Doctors have to eat too.”

“Those young doctors really are something.”

Yipin nodded.

“Dr. Li asked you to contact her when you have a moment.”

“I’ll go see her right away.”

“Right, and the other Dr. Yang left you a message.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she had urgent business and was heading to Ireland.”

Yipin froze.

“What is she going to Ireland for?”

To see Xiong Zaihao, of course — Yang Erjing was bolder than her sister, downright reckless, really.

Yipin said nothing.

She went back to her mother’s house to visit her. Mrs. Yang was in the middle of a paper-cutting class with a group of friends — a teacher had been hired, and everyone chipped in on the fee. A whole table covered in red paper, lively and cheerful.

But Yipin felt a pang of sadness — this was another kind of quiet devotion, filling one’s days with small pastimes to pass the time, aimlessly: computer classes today, calligraphy tomorrow, tai chi the day after!

She sat quietly to one side without speaking.

Erjing was right — if you like someone, go after them, and whatever the outcome, at least you’ve fulfilled your heart’s wish.

Mrs. Yang looked up. “You’re back?”

“Yes.”

“Erjing is in England.”

“I know.”

“Come look at this — the Mouse’s Wedding pattern. We took three days just to get the rough shape cut.”

Yipin said, “Go on, I have some things to take care of.”

Yipin went to Dr. Li’s clinic; the two waiting rooms were crowded, packed with patients — it seemed nine out of ten city dwellers had stomach trouble.

She was seen first.

“Yipin, long time no see.”

“Wouldn’t come to your temple without a reason.”

“Yipin, this way.”

Yipin knew Dr. Li was married, so she asked, “How do you balance work and family?”

“It’s impossible,” Dr. Li said with a wry smile. “Both children were raised by a nanny; by middle school they were already boarding away from home, and after university they never came back — quite distant now, they only respect me from afar.”

“Have you ever thought of giving up your career?”

“I have my own life. Yipin, you might feel a bit uncomfortable — open your mouth.”

Yipin obediently played the good patient. Dr. Li continued: “Do I feel guilty? Of course I do, but—”

She suddenly stopped, eyes fixed on the screen — the endoscopic image of Yipin’s stomach wall.

“Yipin, there’s a tumor.”

Yipin was stunned.

“I’ll take a sample for testing.”

Yipin tried to sit up; Dr. Li held her down.

The procedure completed shortly after. Dr. Li said, “Yipin, why did you wait so long to come see me?”

“I thought—”

“You of all people, a doctor yourself, know full well that illness must be treated while it’s still mild.”

“I…”

“Go home and rest well, don’t overwork yourself anymore. I’ll contact you the moment I have news.”

“Alright.”

Yipin left the clinic and walked out onto the street; the sun felt unusually harsh, as if it would blister her skin. She immediately took shelter in the shade, standing at the street corner for a long while without moving, before finally hailing a car home.

She turned on the television to hear the news, the sound a meaningless drone, unable to hold her attention, and she switched it off almost immediately.

In the kitchen making tea, she accidentally broke a cup.

She pressed her hand to her forehead, her mind numb, not knowing how to cope — this was worse than she had imagined.

Ah — she was finally tasting what it meant to be a patient.

From now on, she would be gentler with her patients — every sick body carries a fragile, weary soul, unwilling to let go of this dusty world.

At that moment, it would have helped to have someone beside her — not to complain to, not to lean on for comfort, no. She only wanted someone to sit quietly with her over a game of chess, or to listen to a song with her.

That night, she curled up and slept.

The next morning, the nurse, Aunt Peng, called.

Yipin asked, “Am I late again?”

“No — Dr. Li wants you to come in right away.”

“What did she say?”

“Just that you should come immediately.”

“Are there patients waiting for me?”

“I’ll handle them. Go see Dr. Li first.”

Yipin lifted her head, took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and got ready.

Dr. Li was waiting for her.

“Yipin, sit down. The lab results are in.”

Yipin, being a doctor herself, understood immediately what this meant.

“Yipin, there’s no need to seek a second opinion — I’ll tell you plainly. The malignant cyst has already reached stage two.”

Yipin sank, head bowed.

“Yipin, it’s treatable — surgery, followed by chemotherapy.”

Yipin murmured, “How annoying — I don’t even know how much I have on my plate right now, and now it all has to be put on hold.”

Dr. Li said gently, “You’ve been busy for so long — treat this as a chance to finally take some time off.”

Yipin’s spirits plunged, and she couldn’t raise her head.

“Yipin, that’s just how life is — unexpected, full of sudden turns.”

Yipin said softly, “My father had the same kind of tumor.”

“Oh!”

“It came back not long after treatment. In the end, they couldn’t save him.”

“Medicine back then couldn’t compare to today.”

“I remember it clearly. My family devoted every bit of time and energy to caring for him, none left over for anything else. My sister didn’t understand — she snuck out to watch movies once and I scolded her harshly for it. We fought constantly.”

Dr. Li listened patiently as she poured out her feelings.

“I won’t tell my mother about this.”

“I doubt you’ll be able to hide it from her.”

“We don’t live together.”

“That’s probably for the best, then.”

Yipin turned her face away; she did not cry.

“Yipin, you’ve always been strong. I’ll arrange for your surgery.”

Yipin stood up, her knees a little weak.

“Admission tomorrow morning.”

Yipin wanted to see her mother once more.

Mrs. Yang, seeing her daughter again, said in surprise, “You again?”

Yipin pretended to be annoyed. “What kind of thing is that to say?”

“Come, sit, have some fruit — Auntie Deng brought loquats and rambutan.”

“Mom, tell me — what were some funny things I did as a child?”

“You were the most well-behaved from the start — all our relatives envied me having such a daughter. They’d always say, ‘Look at Yang Yipin, so-and-so.’ Must have been born that way — every exam paper, top marks; every year, first in city-wide tests, no need for parents to worry. In middle school you skipped two grades and still managed just fine.”

“Really?” Yipin smiled. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“You learned everything fast and thoroughly, never forgot anything you’d seen. Ball games, swimming, chess — you were good at all of it. Pity—”

“Now we’re finally getting to my flaws.”

“Pity you never had a boyfriend.”

“I did have — just never let you know.”

Mrs. Yang shook her head. “No, that was Erpin — she’s the one who had plenty of boyfriends.”

Yipin said, “Erpin outdid me in that respect, by far.”

“That’s certainly what people say. You, Yipin, were always so serious — of course you’d score high. But Erpin was so carefree, and yet somehow got the same results — that’s even more impressive.”

Yipin said, “Well, there you have it.”

“But a girl who’s only good at studying… it always felt like something was missing.”

“Mother, you’re too picky.”

Mrs. Yang sighed. “With your father gone, whatever happiness there is feels diminished. I just hope the two of you find your life partners soon.”

Yipin said nothing.

“It seems like that’s the only thing I ever talk about — I bet you two laugh about it behind my back all the time.”

Yipin said, “What else is there, besides being well-behaved?”

“Time passes so quickly. Every hard day passes, one after another.”

Yipin laughed.

“This afternoon your Auntie Wu and I are going to the orphanage to volunteer.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yes — the orphans want nothing more than for someone to visit, to give them a hug.”

“Mom, I should go.”

Yipin went back to the clinic to arrange her affairs.

She told Aunt Peng, “Being able to handle these matters myself is a good thing, at least.” “Dr. Yang, what kind of talk is that.”

“Refer Miss Zhao and Mrs. Qian to Dr. Sun; send Mr. Li and Ms. Wu to Dr. Xin; everyone else, tell them I’m on holiday in Europe and America. You just need to come in for five hours each morning — full pay, as usual.”

The nurse’s eyes reddened. “Dr. Yang, I’ll come look after you in the afternoons.”

“No, I don’t need that — I have a housekeeper.”

“Then I’ll just stop by and sit a while.”

“Alright — you can give me a report on the clinic then.”

The nurse still wanted to say more, but just then, the clinic door was flung open forcefully.

Yipin was startled. “Erjing, what are you doing here?”

Erjing’s expression was far from normal; not even caring that Aunt Peng was there, she stepped in and said coldly, “I never imagined my own sister would do something so underhanded behind my back.”

Yipin’s mood was already at rock bottom, and hearing this tone made her bristle. “Say what you have to say clearly, don’t beat around the bush.”

Erjing snapped angrily, “You knew perfectly well I liked Xiong Zaihao — I met him first, I told you that clearly.”

Yipin looked at her sister, baffled. “I have no interest in him whatsoever.”

“But I had to go all the way to England to find out you two are already so close.”

“I’ll say it again — that man has no place at all in my life. You shouldn’t have thrown yourself at him so recklessly, letting him take advantage.”

Erjing, furious, said, “Are you calling me cheap?”

Yipin suddenly felt weary. “We came from the same parents, we’re blood sisters, we’ve spent over twenty years together, done homework together, played together — how can we suddenly turn against each other over some stranger of a man?”

“You’re the one in the wrong.”

“I didn’t even know he was someone you liked.”

“You’re making excuses.”

Yipin, disappointed and hurt, felt something rise in her throat; she raised a hand to her mouth, but it was too late — she began to vomit.

The nurse rushed to catch it with a towel, and it was Erjing who cried out first, “Blood — there’s blood!”

Yipin collapsed weakly onto the sofa.

The nurse said, “I’ll call an ambulance right away.”

Erjing, alarmed, said, “What’s going on!”

“Don’t tell Mother.”

Then, Yipin felt her vision and hearing grow blurred, and finally lost consciousness.

Honestly, she really didn’t want to wake up.

In her delirium, it felt as though she’d been reunited with her father — he hadn’t aged a bit, still in his forties, calling her “little princess.”

“Dad, I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, little princess.”

“Dad, please tell me — will I make it through this?”

“You’ll be fine, little princess.”

“Dad.”

Yipin leaned against her father’s chest and wept.

Suddenly she felt a burning pain; Yipin groaned. The pain quickly spread through her whole body, as though she were being consumed by fire.

She twisted and cried out in pain. “Yipin, wake up, wake up.”

Yipin couldn’t open her eyes. “Who — where am I?”

“I’m Dr. Li Jinhui. I just finished your stomach surgery — it went well. You’re in the hospital right now.”

Ah — already cut open, and stitched closed again.

“It hurts so much!”

“Of course it hurts, with an incision like that.”

“Please, give me something for the pain.”

“You’ve already had an injection.”

“It’s not enough — stronger medication, please, the pain is unbearable.”

Dr. Li laughed helplessly and told the nurse to bring more medicine.

Yipin sighed.