Yipin’s instincts as a doctor made her rush toward the scene of the accident at once.

Lu Yongzhong called after her, “Yipin, it’s dangerous, where are you going?”

On the ground floor lobby, a worker lay collapsed while two colleagues took turns pressing on his chest to resuscitate him. Yipin said loudly, “I’m a doctor, please step aside, call an ambulance quickly.”

Someone said, “Doctor, a bucket of cement came loose and fell, and it landed right on top of him.”

Yipin crouched down, about to examine him, when she noticed the injured man’s head was tilted to one side. She went to lift him up and discovered his skull had already been deformed. Her hand came away covered in blood — there was no way to save him.

At that moment, the ambulance arrived, siren wailing.

Yipin stood up in a daze. What a shocking coincidence, to witness a workplace accident like this. The paramedics carried the stretcher out in silence.

The worker had no more life in him. Tomorrow, there would be a small news item in the papers about this accident.

Yipin looked up and saw Lu Yongzhong and the driver standing off to the side, speaking with the police.

Yipin walked over quietly, blood staining her clothes, and answered the police’s questions as well.

A life had quietly slipped away, yet the blue sky and white clouds remained exactly as calm as before the accident had happened.

“Yipin, the car’s this way.”

Lu Yongzhong went to take her hand; Yipin shook her head and spread open her stained palm.

What a man he was — Lu Yongzhong said gently, “If you’re not afraid, why would I be?” He gripped her hand tightly. It was the first time; he realized her hand was very small and light.

They didn’t speak the whole way. When they reached the apartment building, Lu Yongzhong said, “Let me walk you up so you can rest.”

It was Yipin who stopped his hand. “I have something to say to you.”

Lu Yongzhong’s face suddenly went pale. She was going to reject him — he immediately tried to escape it. “You’re tired today, let’s talk another time.”

Yipin was quite insistent. “No, I want to make things clear with you right now.”

Lu Yongzhong nearly wept, but had no choice but to face reality and follow Yipin inside.

Yipin ordered him, “Sit down, so you don’t get such a shock you fall over.”

“Go ahead, say what you have to say.”

“I have an illness.”

Lu Yongzhong looked surprised. “The matchmaker told me from the start.”

“It’s a serious disease.”

“But it’s already been cured.”

“There’s still a chance of recurrence within five years,” she reminded him.

“Then I’ll stay by your side and see how things stand five years from now.”

Yipin hadn’t expected the difficult problem to be resolved so readily. It seemed Mr. Lu was a master at making big things small and small things disappear entirely. She admired this kind of person most.

Yipin smiled. “Five years is a very long stretch of time.”

“At my age, it’ll pass quickly enough.”

“I know a young lady who would suit being the mistress of a house like this very well.”

“Oh? Who?”

“She’s very beautiful, an actress, named Yili.” Yipin was hinting that he’d chosen the wrong person.

Lu Yongzhong laughed and rubbed his nose with his hand.

Yipin saw through it at once.

He finally said, “I’ve known Miss Yao for a long time already, you needn’t trouble yourself introducing her.”

“Oh!”

“Miss Yao has been in the public eye for ten years or more, famous, everyone knows her.”

Yipin flushed. “Ah” — she’d hit a soft nail again.

Her mother had been right. This man was no simple character.

“Anything else you want to say?”

Yipin shook her head.

“Then I’ll head back to the company to deal with today’s accident.”

Yipin nodded.

“Strange,” Lu Yongzhong said. “Dr. Yang and Yang Yipin are two completely different people.”

Yipin nodded slightly. “A doctor with two faces.”

Lu Yongzhong laughed heartily.

A little later, Yipin noticed he had placed a small blue jewelry box on the fruit platter, on top of a large yellow pomelo.

She took out the ring and examined it closely, discovering that words had been engraved on the inside of the band: To Yipin, from Yongzhong, along with the date. She tried it on — it fit perfectly.

Mr. Lu was an extremely clever man, yet that quick-witted soul was housed in a thoroughly ordinary body — truly, he had been shortchanged.

Yipin put the ring back in the box. Only then did she wash her hands and change her clothes.

The phone rang. Yipin had just been wanting to talk to someone.

“Sister Yipin, it’s Benling.”

“Benling, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

“Sister Yipin, is your health alright?”

“So you’ve all heard.”

“I heard you’ve already recovered, everyone’s relieved.”

“Is there something else you want to say?” Yipin could see right through her junior schoolmate’s thoughts.

“Sister Yipin,” Li Benling said, a little bashfully, “what do you think of Zhou Yan?”

Yipin laughed as soon as she heard it.

“Sister Yipin, don’t tease me.” She looked a bit flustered.

“Don’t worry, Zhou Yan is a good person, just a bit willful, a bit childish.”

Li Benling replied, “I think so too.”

“Give him some time, tell him to go back to school, in a few years he’ll be a changed man.”

“Then — do you think there’s a future for us?”

“Of course, you’re the same age, you share the same interests.”

“Thank you, Sister Yipin.”

“Is that the only question?”

“There’s also — that laser scalpel—”

“No rush to return it, keep using it.”

“I’ll thank you on everyone’s behalf.”

The next day, Yipin went back to the clinic to take care of some business, then came home early to rest. As soon as she walked in the door, she saw a brilliantly colored fire-red parrot fly toward her, mimicking human speech: “The eldest young lady is home, the eldest young lady is home.”

Yipin was delighted and surprised: “Erjing, is that you?”

These exotic birds and beasts, of course, had been brought by her sister — though the potted plants in the room had already been pecked into disarray.

Erjing came out from the study. “It’s me.”

Yipin let out a breath of relief. “I’ve missed you terribly.”

The sisters embraced tightly, unwilling to let go. Then they looked each other over.

Yipin noticed Erjing had gained a little weight, her figure sturdy and athletic, her skin slightly tanned — she looked like a star athlete.

Erjing looked at her sister. “Ugh, so frail, so pale — all this time, and you’ve managed to keep it from Mom.”

Yipin sighed. “My health will slowly recover.”

“Right, and the main thing is your spirit is still lively.”

Yipin looked her sister over carefully. “And you?”

Erjing spread her hands.

“No progress?”

“Sometimes we’re so busy we don’t exchange a single word all day.”

“That bad?”

“Not really — we can each feel the other is there, and that’s a great comfort.”

“Then that’s already enough.” Yipin nodded.

Erjing said, “Once this project’s finished, he’s decided to go back to university.”

“That’s wonderful, no more running all over the place.”

“If we want things to develop further, it depends—”

Erjing said, “Well, that depends on how much you need him.”

Just then, the big parrot flew over and landed on Erjing’s shoulder, pecking at her ear. Erjing laughed, and it was clear she was still happy.

Yipin asked, “And your own work?”

“Had to stop for a while, I’m treating it as a break.” Yipin thought a moment. “Sometimes I wish the men would sacrifice a little too.”

“They’re under a lot of pressure. If they stop, they’re called good-for-nothings — parents, relatives, and lovers alike will look down on them.”

That was true. “Have you been to see Mom?”

Erjing said, “I went early on. She told me there’s a capable businessman who’s been seeing a lot of you.”

Yipin smiled.

“Got a photo?”

Yipin showed her sister the photo they’d taken together at Hakone.

“Hm, he looks very honest.”

Yipin smiled. “You can be frank.”

“A capable man, no matter what he looks like, is still a capable man.”

Yipin said quickly, “Thank you.”

“I wish you a successful honeymoon romance.”

Yipin laughed. “There’s still a long road ahead.”

“If everything goes well, will you give up work after marriage?”

Yipin said gently, “Work is a source of income. A person needs to be financially independent — I dare not act rashly.”

“You’ve already saved enough.”

“Erjing, you’re my sister, how can you exaggerate like that?”

“Big Sister has always carried herself like a big sister — no wonder Mom dotes on you.”

“Mom isn’t biased.”

She didn’t quite agree. “You’d better watch what you say.”

Erjing coaxed the parrot back into its cage.

Yipin asked, “Is Xiong still in the city?”

“No, he’s already gone back to America.”

Yipin walked her sister to the door.

Erjing asked casually, “A man who doesn’t make your heart race — can he still be marriage material?”

Yipin answered calmly, “That’s probably the best kind of lifelong partner. A heart that beats irregularly isn’t a good sign.”

Erjing laughed.

After she left, Yipin let out a long breath.

In her heart, she was surprised at how fiercely she’d defended Lu Yongzhong — it was clear feelings had grown between them.

She went to check the ring box on the fruit platter. Thankfully, Erjing hadn’t discovered it — there was no sign it had been touched.

Yipin carefully put the ring away for safekeeping.

She and Erjing could never be as close as before — sisters would always go their separate ways, each with her own family, partner, children. If they could remain as close as old friends, that would already be good.

She thought back to when they were very small, how she’d held Erjing’s hand walking to school, half an hour on foot to reach the gate, rain or shine, and when they got tired they’d sit by the roadside a while before continuing. The world was so vast, yet there had only been the two of them, relying on each other.

Yipin’s eyes grew moist. Those good times were all in the past now. As people grow up, their hearts grow too, and today each had her own circle of life.

She remembered how, as children, the sisters had once talked about death.

“Sis, I’m afraid of dying.”

“So am I.”

“But there’s still such a long, long time before that, isn’t there?”

“Yes, waiting for New Year already feels so long, a whole year is that long, but ten or twenty years is even longer.”

“Right, no need to worry.” It would pass quickly enough. She wondered if Erjing still remembered that.

Lu Yongzhong’s call came through; the moment he spoke he asked, “Not happy?”

“How did you know, I haven’t said a word.”

“The air feels heavy.”

Yipin laughed. “My sister came to see me, and it made me think of childhood, when we had no worries at all — I really don’t want to grow up.”

Lu Yongzhong comforted her gently: “Things weren’t actually so good back then.”

“But everything was decided by the adults — wherever we went, we just went along with fate, and it was such a happy feeling.”

“When did you start having worries of your own?”

“Twelve, thirteen years old, I suppose. Schoolwork got heavier, I wanted to be first in class, my father passed away, and my mother’s silence planted the root of my melancholy.”

“That must have been a great trial for someone as sensitive as you.”

“Erjing and I both worked especially hard at our studies, just hoping to see Mother smile again.”

“Did it work?”

“No. She always seemed to be missing half of herself. Daytime was alright, but at night she often cried.” Saying this, she felt she was being sentimental. “Hey! How is it you have time to spare?”

“I have a reliable old hand I trust, so I don’t have to oversee everything myself.”

“You’ve made it to shore,” Yipin said, nodding. “Doctors can’t do that — we’re like painters or writers, we have to do the work with our own hands right up until retirement.”

“You still get a real sense of fulfillment from it, unlike us, just signing contracts and stamping papers.”

“Do businessmen make money by any means necessary?”

“You misunderstand — haven’t you heard the saying, no merchant is without some ruthlessness? Come, Yipin, let’s go skiing.”

“I don’t know how.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“I have some things to deal with recently.”

He answered without hesitation, “Then I’ll wait for you.”

Yipin laughed. “Wait on one hand, make money with the other — don’t miss any good opportunities.”

Her old boyfriend Wang Shenpo had once said he’d call her every day to tell her jokes; of course he never kept that promise. Now, instead, it was Lu Yongzhong who did.

“I’ll bring champagne up to see you.”

“I can’t drink, but come chat with me.”

He fell suddenly silent, then said softly, “Thank you.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve waited until today to finally have someone to talk to.”

Yipin suddenly realized she felt lucky too; they were both quietly moved, silent for a moment.

That evening Lu Yongzhong brought over a pot of duck-broth wontons made by his family’s cook. Yipin caught the fragrance and couldn’t help her mouth watering. The two of them had no particular plans, just sat talking about everything under the sun.

First they talked about advances in medicine: “…they’ve just developed a new small heart pacemaker for use. In the past, it helped the atrium pump blood throughout the body; now they’ve switched to a tiny propeller to drive the blood flow. The patient has no pulse, but is genuinely alive — it’s quite remarkable.”

Lu Yongzhong found this fascinating. “You never talk about fashion or makeup.”

Yipin answered, “Before, with my sister, our hottest topic was men. Going through a serious illness changes your outlook.”

He really wanted to ask: what kind of man do you like? But he didn’t dare be so bold, and kept an awkward silence instead.

“I hear your sister is a doctor too.”

“She’s a veterinarian. She once worked in the countryside for a year — the farmers loved her.”

“You must introduce me to her sometime.”

Yipin smiled, thinking, later, perhaps — now isn’t the time.

They played a game of chess; Lu Yongzhong’s skill was excellent, though he held back somewhat. In the end Yipin still lost, but not too badly.

He wasn’t entirely free of work either — his staff called once for instructions, and hearing the news, his expression grew serious. He walked to another corner of the living room and spoke in a low voice.

Yipin watched him. Suddenly, she noticed that as he quietly gave orders, his frame seemed much taller, his shoulders seemed to broaden too. Ah, she was growing fonder and fonder of him — careful, careful. From beginning to end, she had never once felt he wasn’t handsome enough.

He took his leave near midnight. Yipin saw him to the door; he suddenly said, presumptuously, “I really wish I could sleep in your living room, so the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes tomorrow would be you.”

Yipin was startled for a moment; Lu Yongzhong took the opportunity to slip away. She went into her study to deal with the bills — an entire thick stack: insurance, credit cards, charitable donations, water and electricity, gasoline, rates… The foreigners had a good phrase for it — this was “the cost of living,” the price of being alive.

Her mother had once said, “They say people in the next century will live to an average of a hundred and thirty. That really is exhausting. Besides, living costs are so high, how many people could even afford it — being able to see your children settled and starting families of their own is already enough.”

Yipin sighed. Just then the phone rang. It was Professor Huo — that eccentric old scientist had no concept of time, he only knew that when there was business, he had to find people.

“Yipin, not asleep yet? Good, we’ve got a rare patient case, you need to come.”

“Now?”

“No, Yipin, seven o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be there for sure.”

“Can your body handle it?”

“I’ve been terribly bored — this phone call of yours has done wonders for my energy.”

“Ha ha ha, we really can’t sit still, can we.”

Yipin laughed too.

Because she had a special assignment the next day, she slept more soundly than usual — something someone without work couldn’t understand. She got up early, made a phone call to Nurse Peng, and left. Professor Huo and the other doctors were already waiting for her in the conference room.

“Yipin’s here.”

“Yipin can give us valuable input.”

“This case really can’t go forward without Yang Yipin’s participation.”

Yipin felt an immediate surge of energy. Someone handed her coffee and a doughnut for breakfast; they talked as they ate.

Professor Huo said, “This case is rare, even in today’s terms.”

When the photographs were displayed, everyone gasped, and even Yipin couldn’t help but set down her coffee cup. The professor explained, “The patient is eighteen years old, and since childhood has been called ‘Two-Headed Zhang.'”

“He really does have two faces.”

In the photo, the patient — surnamed Zhang — looked indescribably strange. Her normal features were pushed to one side, and on the left cheek there was a second, small, unformed set of eyes, nose, and mouth. Most peculiar of all, when she opened her mouth, that other mouth would move too. “In the countryside, she was seen as a monster.” But any Western-trained doctor could tell at a glance it was simply a parasitic twin.

“Usually, she wraps it in cloth so it won’t be seen in the village.”

“Is she an orphan?”

“No, her parents love and protect her dearly.”

“That’s truly fortunate.”

“The local doctors referred her to us, on the condition that we exchange notes.”

Yipin studied the parasitic features carefully. Ah, the mouth even had teeth — it must have kept developing along with the host body, which meant it wouldn’t be easy to remove. The professor played a video clip of the patient’s daily life.

“This is Aunt Zhang, her mother.”

Yipin smiled — in her birth mother’s eyes, that face was probably lovable too.

“The village children throw stones at her from behind.”

“The patient’s emotional trauma is very severe.”

Yipin offered her opinion on the sketches.

The professor said, “Yipin, we know you’re still recovering, we don’t want to trouble you to take part in the actual surgery.”

“No, Professor, I can take it on.”

“It would be too taxing.”

“I’m used to it.”

“I’ll need to speak with your attending specialist.”

Yipin looked annoyed. “Everyone here is a specialist.”

Everyone laughed.

“This will be another landmark surgery for the medical school.”

“Now, let’s go examine the patient.”

The patient was waiting for them, shy and silent.

The real face’s second set of features was even stranger in person than in the images — even the eyelid would tremble, though it could not open. Yipin spoke to her in Mandarin: “What do you like to eat? The doctor will bring you some.”

Little Zhang lifted her head to think, then took a book and opened it to a page, taking out a transparent, colorful piece of paper being used as a bookmark, mumbling, unsure how to begin.

Yipin, ever observant, noticed the bookmark had once been chocolate wrapping — a piece of candy, eaten long ago, its wrapper carefully smoothed flat and kept pressed inside the book. Such careful treasuring of a small thing moved Yipin deeply.

“You’d like this candy?” Little Zhang nodded, and both mouths on her face moved together.

“The doctor will bring it for you soon.” Yipin joined the other doctors in examining the patient.

Without needing to say it, everyone once again realized how fortunate it was to be an ordinary person.

Yipin asked, “Has her mother been brought here?”

“She’s already here.”

“That will help her recovery enormously.”

“We’ll handle the removal, Yipin, you’ll do the reconstruction — much harder work, like mending a pot.”

“Let’s go to the computer room to run a simulation of the surgical procedure.”

It was three in the afternoon when Yipin finally left the hospital.

The moment she stepped out the door, someone called from behind her, “Dr. Yang, let’s have lunch together.”

Yipin turned back, laughing. “Yongzhong, it’s you.”

That morning Nurse Peng had told him Dr. Yang was at the hospital; he’d been frightened out of his wits, thinking she needed medical care herself, only realizing later she’d gone to treat a patient, not to be treated. That scare had been no small thing, and he’d rushed straight over.

That feeling was unlike anything he’d ever experienced — strange indeed — he just wanted to see her, to be by her side; only then could he feel at ease. Ah, he’d fallen in love with this woman, no doubt about it anymore. At the reception desk he’d asked, “I’m looking for Dr. Yang Yipin.”

“Dr. Yang is in a meeting.”

“Could I have a word with her?”

“It’s not appropriate to interrupt while the meeting is in session.”

“When will she be free?”

“Probably not until the afternoon.”

He decided to wait for her — leaving would accomplish nothing. His heart was restless, deeply uneasy; better to wait close by.

So he bought a thick stack of newspapers and magazines and read them in his car, waiting several hours. Oddly enough, busy as he was with countless matters each day, he didn’t feel he was wasting time at all.

If this wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was. He was quite astonished — he hadn’t thought he still had the capacity to love anyone; he’d believed himself immune to it for life. But apparently heaven had its own arrangements — he had fallen for the graceful, delicate, quiet Yang Yipin.

When his cousin had said she wanted to introduce him to a female Western-medicine doctor, he’d scoffed, “Mrs. Yuan, this is already the seventh time you’ve tried to matchmake me.”

“I’ll try a seventieth time too, rather than have you loafing about at my place every weekend, shameless as you are. With your excellent qualifications, there’s no reason you should be alone your whole life.”

“Excellent qualifications? I’m no handsome young leading man.”

“What use is that kind of shallow woman who only looks at the surface? Yipin is a reconstructive surgeon — under her skillful hands, a person’s features become as beautiful as they can possibly be. She’s not the type to judge people by appearance.”

At the time, he’d been startled. “Yipin — what an unusual name.”

Mrs. Yuan had gone on: “Besides, cousin, what’s wrong with you? You’ve got eyes, a nose, everything — we don’t live off our faces. A man just needs presence and a career.”

Lu Yongzhong remembered smiling and answering, “Many thanks for the encouragement, many thanks for the guidance.”

His cousin had hosted the dinner at her home; she’d arrived before him. He’d been twenty minutes late because of an order he was dealing with, not particularly caring about this meeting. Walking in, he’d seen a slender young woman listening to his cousin talk — only Mrs. Yuan spoke without pause, while she listened quietly.

Hm, he’d thought, this woman isn’t bad — did she really have to be a doctor. Then his cousin made introductions: “Yipin, this is my cousin, Lu Yongzhong.” So it had been her all along — not the least bit arrogant or affected, which was rare indeed.

Lu Yongzhong recalled that the meal had lasted over an hour, and Yang Yipin hadn’t spoken more than ten sentences, yet she never seemed cold. In every gesture and movement there was an indescribable elegance and grace, combined with professional knowledge — it had won his heart completely.

It must have been at that moment his feelings had first taken root.

Definitely.

By three o’clock, Yipin had finally emerged. Lu Yongzhong had always assumed a woman doctor would wear formal business suits, but this Yang Yipin usually chose only khaki pants and a white shirt.

He’d stepped forward and said, “Dr. Yang, let’s have lunch together.”

He heard her laugh in reply: “Yongzhong, it’s you.”

That was the first time she’d called him by his name. It turned out those two ordinary words could sound so pleasant to the ear — or was it that everything Yang Yipin did carried some indescribable grace?

“Long meeting — tired?”

“How could I be — though my stomach’s grown hungry.”

“What would you like to eat?”

“Beef,” said Yipin.

Lu Yongzhong thought with tenderness — not picky about food, not picky about clothes, truly rare, without a trace of the pampered, must-have-only-the-best habits of today’s urban women.

He drove her to a private club that served the most delicious beef in the city.

Yipin told him, “I’ve put the ring away.”

“Why not wear it?”

“I take it off constantly for surgery, afraid I’ll lose it.”

Lu Yongzhong was overjoyed, so happy he didn’t know what to say.

Yipin drew a face with two sides on her notepad. He took it to look. “Huh, a two-faced person — what does this mean?”

“It’s a patient.”

“Ah — like the legendary ‘face-boil’? How unfortunate.”

Yipin watched his expression closely, and seeing no trace of revulsion in it, she felt reassured.

“No — it’s one of a pair of conjoined twins, underdeveloped, parasitic on her face. It has no life of its own, but it does move, and to most people’s eyes it’s quite frightening.”

Lu Yongzhong asked, “You’re in charge of the reconstruction?”

“Yes, I’m working out how to close the wound.”

“Wow.”

There was no disgust in his tone, and Yipin relaxed.

“So it turns out you don’t only do eye-bag lifts for society ladies.”

Yipin smiled. “That’s my main source of income.”

Lu Yongzhong couldn’t help but say, “I love you, Yang Yipin.”

Yipin instead said, “My clients often ask me, ‘Dr. Yang, why don’t you remove the mole on your own face?’ But the pursuit of infant-like perfection has no end point, and there’s no need for it either.”

He drove her back to the clinic.

Nurse Peng said, “Dr. Yang, Miss Yao came by. Since you weren’t in, she went for tea, said she’d come back later.”

“Did she say what it was about?”

“She said her left eye corner has some slackness.”

“How old is Miss Yao this year?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Time really does fly. The god of time has begun his work. It’s been ten years since she first came in for a nose narrowing.”

“Indeed, how time flows on.”

“Past thirty, she’ll be even more shocked.”

“She was just complaining to me that even the skin on the soles of her feet is loosening — she doesn’t dare take barefoot photos anymore.”

Yipin laughed. “I ought to advise her — surface beauty lasts at most ten years or so, she needs to be mentally prepared.”

“When a beauty is suddenly no longer beautiful, the blow is no small thing.”

A moment later Yao Yili came up; Yipin invited her into the office. She’d assumed Yili would bring up the skin slackness issue, but she didn’t. Instead, she pointed to a small framed photo on Yipin’s desk. “Dr. Yang, you know Lu Yongzhong?”

Yipin said, “Ah,” then, “He told me you two are friends.”

Yao Yili smiled. “Old friends — we’ve just been busy lately, haven’t seen each other much.”

Yipin studied the beauty’s expression carefully as she asked, “What’s he like as a person?”

“Dr. Yang, are you dating him?”

Yipin nodded frankly. Yao Yili praised Lu Yongzhong lavishly: “A truly first-rate man — clever and capable, generous and open-minded, always ready to help friends without sparing effort, never petty about gains and losses.”

“He was married once before?”

“That woman missed out on a treasure.”

Yipin said, “Perhaps the timing wasn’t right — the fate ran its course before it could bloom.”

“When I first met Mr. Lu, I was still working as a jeans model — three thousand dollars for ten days and nights of work, cheap labor.”

“Was it to promote a product line of his?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing developed further?”

Yao Yili laughed. “He thought I was shallow.”

Of course things were never that simple; since she wasn’t saying more, there was no need to press. It was all in the past now.

Yao Yili said, “It’s a real shame, Mr. Lu’s looks fall a bit short.”

Yipin couldn’t help it. “Strange — you all say he’s ugly.”

Yili glanced at the doctor. “Don’t you think so?”

Yipin answered honestly, “I’ve never felt that way at all.”

Yao Yili looked surprised. “A plastic surgeon should be most sensitive to beauty and ugliness of all people — you feel nothing about his looks?”

Yipin shook her head. “The more I look at him, the more pleasant he seems — comforting, somehow.”

“My!” Yao Yili laughed. They would make a natural pair — only seeing each other’s strengths was the way to lasting companionship; mismatched couples only ever find fault with each other.

“I’m so happy for you both.”

Yipin smiled. “Thank you.”

“Please give my regards to Mr. Lu.”

“Of course.”

Yao Yili stood to take her leave.

“Oh — was there nothing else?”

“Doctor, this ongoing battle to stay young and beautiful — I’m bound to lose, no question. I’ve fought it for ten years already, and I’m exhausted and sore. I want to give up, let nature take its course. Well — old is old, I suppose.”

Yipin laughed until she doubled over.

She really was a clever woman after all, to have such a realization. She walked out of the clinic with graceful, swaying steps.

Watching her generous figure go, Nurse Peng said, “She won’t be coming back to see Dr. Yang after this.”

Yipin asked, surprised, “Why not?”

Nurse Peng said, “The doctor is her ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend — does she have the nerve? What if you cut the wrong spot on purpose?”

Yipin laughed again. “They’re just ordinary friends.”

“You certainly don’t seem jealous.”

“I’ve had male friends before too.”

“Strange — the ones who take a liking to him are always beauties, and everyone speaks well of him too. Truly, appearances can deceive.”

“Nurse Peng, where is your mind wandering off to now — the more you dig, the more curious you get.”

The next day, Yipin bought a box of Flower Street chocolates, each candy wrapped in a lovely, colorful wrapper, and brought them to the hospital for Little Zhang.

Little Zhang gave a small cry of delight, breaking into a smile — the mouth on the other face split open too.

A young nurse couldn’t help but step back slightly. Little Zhang immediately popped a chocolate into her mouth, made a small satisfied sound, and tucked the wrapper into her book as usual.

Only then did Yipin notice she was reading a copy of The Return of the Condor Heroes.

“You like this book?”

Little Zhang nodded, then suddenly spoke. “This is the only copy I have.”

“I’ll send you the whole set.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Who’s your favorite character in the book?”

Sure enough, just as expected: “It’s Yang Guo.” Then, working up her courage, she asked, “Doctor, and you?”

“I favor Guo Xiang — she’s gentle, considerate, and quiet, willing to sacrifice for others.”

Little Zhang nodded. “I understand — just like Dr. Yang.”

Yipin laughed. “I’m not nearly that good.”

Professor Huo came in and said, “Little Zhang’s in great spirits today, no more crying.”

Little Zhang lowered her head again, saying nothing more.

Yipin and Professor Huo discussed some technical details in the conference room; the surgery was scheduled for the afternoon.

No matter how thorough the preparation, mishaps could never be entirely ruled out — some tension was unavoidable.

The professor deliberately made light conversation: “Yipin, what are your ambitions, really?”

Yipin only smiled.

“Completely satisfied with your achievements so far?”

“No — there’s one main thing in my heart.”

“Tell me about it.”

“To go to a rural village and open a small clinic there, offering free service.”

“Ah, that’s a grand ambition. Dr. Schweitzer started out exactly that way.”

Yipin said softly, “Some conditions, like conjunctivitis or a sore throat, just need the right medicine, and they can be cured within a day, sparing the patient needless suffering. I’d like to be the villagers’ family doctor.”

“So you’d be living long-term out in the countryside.”

“Yes, that’s really the difficulty.”

“I have a suggestion — why not find four like-minded doctors, each taking a season, to rotate through village service?”

Yipin smiled. “That would be quite difficult.”

The professor laughed. “Even I’m afraid of mosquito bites — I can’t bear to leave the comfortable apartment in the city. Actually, you can help patients anywhere, there’s no need to go to the countryside.”

Yipin only kept smiling. They heard someone knock at the door, followed by a cough.

Yipin looked up and saw Lu Yongzhong standing outside; she immediately introduced him warmly: “Professor, this is my friend, Mr. Lu.”

Hearing the tone in Yipin’s voice, the professor knew at once this was his beloved student’s boyfriend, and couldn’t help giving the plain, unremarkable-looking man an extra glance. He asked casually, “Interested in observing the surgery live?”

Yipin tried to stop it but was too late.

Lu Yongzhong answered at once, “I’m extremely interested.”

Yipin said gently, “There’s nothing worth watching about this, it’s not a concert.”

Lu Yongzhong asked, “Would I be watching from the observation room above the operating theater?”

The professor answered, “That’s right, see you shortly.”

He left. Yipin stamped her foot. Lu Yongzhong laughed, “I’m not the type to faint at the sight of blood.” Yipin stared blankly at him — her ex-boyfriend Wang Shenpo had once observed a surgery and been so frightened he’d fled like a deserter.

“Yipin, if you don’t want me to watch, I won’t.”

“Some people can’t handle it.”

“I want to understand your work.”

“Alright then, welcome to the observation room.” An ugly daughter-in-law must eventually meet her in-laws, and so it was decided.

Outside the door, someone asked the professor, “Who was that man?” The professor said nothing.

“Yang Yipin’s boyfriend?” The professor merely nodded slightly.

“After going through such an illness, of all people, she picks a boyfriend that plain-looking.” The tone carried an unmistakable note of regret.

The professor answered simply, “Perhaps he has a good heart inside.”

“You see, being a man really has its advantages after all — women know how to appreciate inner beauty. But if a woman were that dark and plain, who would ever accept her?”

The professor didn’t want to say more. “That’s a matter of personal taste.”

“He must love her very much — without love, no matter how good his other qualities, what use would they be.”

That afternoon, Lu Yongzhong chose the best seat in the observation room and sat down. The doctors filed in one by one; he saw Yipin look up and wave at him.

The medical students around Lu Yongzhong were buzzing with chatter.

“The beautiful Dr. Yang, just recovered from a serious illness, showing off her skills.”

“This patient really is frightening — imagine facing that up close in the dark, wouldn’t you be scared to death.”

“That’s exactly why seven doctors are consulting on this case.”

Lu Yongzhong felt a shiver run through him. As the surgery began, he watched Yipin work with complete focus. Dressed in scrubs, she seemed to radiate a crystalline light all over; small in stature, yet commanding the room with ease, coordinating perfectly with the other doctors, neither servile nor arrogant, her full ability on display. Lu Yongzhong was utterly won over, his eyes growing damp, deeply moved. No one had expected he could sit as still as a statue, unmoving, for hours on end.

To truly understand Yipin’s character, one had only to come into the operating room. He watched with his own eyes as she sewed the patient’s face together, muscle and skin, layer by layer, and under her gentle, skillful hands, a princess’s face and a peasant girl’s face would come out exactly the same — no difference at all, not the slightest favoritism. At the very end, a nurse brought over a tray; from a distance, something on the edge could be seen faintly wriggling.

What was that?

Someone beside him also cried out, “What is that?”

Someone answered, “Leeches! Used to draw out the pooled blood.”

“Wow, using folk remedies like that.”

“I hear the professor especially favors combining them with surgical technique.”

“I can’t watch.”

“Tao, why don’t you go home and take care of your little sibling.”

Yipin reached out and picked up a cluster of leeches, placing them one by one on the patient’s face; in a flash the small brown creatures swelled to more than ten times their size, engorged with blood, then dropped off one by one. The swelling on the patient’s face visibly went down.

Lu Yongzhong’s eyes went wide with wonder, and he couldn’t help exclaiming under his breath, “What a marvel.” The medical students glanced at him curiously. “Which hospital are you a doctor at?”

Lu Yongzhong answered, “No, I’m not a doctor, I’m in the garment business.”

“Then how did you end up in the observation room?”

He said, quite proudly, “I’m Dr. Yang’s friend.”

“I see.”

Another young man asked him, “All that blood, not scared?”

Lu Yongzhong shook his head. “This is just how the human body is built — you and I are the same. What’s there to be afraid of?”

The first student clapped him hard on the shoulder. “Well said — my mother’s always asking me the same thing, and I tell her, one day my body will be the same too, I’m not afraid at all.”

“Hu Xiaotu, you can’t use idioms properly, don’t just use them randomly, alright?”

Everyone laughed. Student days really were the happiest time of life.

By then the surgery was complete. Yipin looked up and, seeing Lu Yongzhong still in the observation room, felt a bit surprised.

Lu Yongzhong asked the young students, “How do I get down to see Dr. Yang?”

“Out the door, walk forward, you’ll see the elevator, press one, out of the elevator, turn left, then right, there are a few consultation rooms, you’ll see Dr. Yang meeting with the patient’s family.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll remember all that?”

Lu Yongzhong smiled. “My memory’s not bad.”

He left.

As the students packed up their notes, someone said, “This boyfriend of Dr. Yang’s is much better than the last one — the previous boyfriend was handsome, but a coward, threw up at the sight of blood, remember that?”

“Can’t blame him — surgery in real life isn’t something everyone can handle.”

“Isn’t it strange though — humans only care about the surface, dressing up nicely, washing their painted faces clean every day, dousing themselves in perfume, and over time forget what’s really underneath the skin.”

“Hey, philosopher, class is over.”

Meanwhile, Lu Yongzhong found the consultation room and saw Dr. Yang Yipin crouched down, speaking gently with a middle-aged woman.

The woman was clearly the patient’s mother, gripping her fists tensely, her lips pale, but under Yipin’s kind words she gradually relaxed. Yipin explained the actual situation to her clearly, and the woman broke into tears, murmuring, “Thank you, Doctor.”

Yipin smiled. “Seven doctors took part in this surgery altogether, plus the anesthesiologist and assistants, twelve people in all — I don’t deserve much of the credit.”

A nurse came out and said, “Aunt Zhang, please come see Little Zhang.”

Aunt Zhang hurried off.

Only then did Lu Yongzhong quietly call to her: “Dr. Yang.”

“Yongzhong, you’re still here? Aren’t you tired?”

“I was just about to ask you the same — how are you not tired?”

“I’m used to it.”

“You haven’t eaten either.”

“I suddenly want chocolate ice cream soda.”

“I’ll take you right now.”

Yipin watched him — strange, every time she saw him he seemed a little taller, a little stronger, more and more pleasant to look at.

“Hey,” Yipin asked, “you didn’t put off anything important for this, did you?”

“I’m a famous workaholic, that’s exactly why I came to understand your work.” Yipin said nothing.

“Yipin, you’re a doctor too, why ask something so obvious?”

“Actually, I never used to think about having children.”

Dr. Li advised her, “There’s still plenty of time ahead.”

“I never even considered marriage.”

Dr. Li nodded. “Everyone knows how devoted you are to your career.”

“But my not wanting children is one thing — being told by a doctor that I can’t have children is another matter entirely.”

“Not that you can’t — that it’s not advisable.”

Yipin sighed, lowering her head, dejected.

“Yipin, but — have you found someone?”

“There’s a feeling between us.”

“Does he know about your condition?”

Yipin nodded.

“That’s good then, understanding is what matters most.”

“He likes children. I feel it isn’t fair to him.”

“Take it slowly — where there’s love between two people, a solution will come.”

“Dr. Li, thank you for the encouragement.”

“Enjoy the present, don’t worry about the future.”