Following Zhang Lian’s instructions, early Sunday morning, Zhou Mi packed some of her clothes and personal items, leaving home to move into the VIP ward at Chenghe Medical Center.

Before departing, her father was just having breakfast. Seeing her with her small suitcase, he hurriedly slurped his porridge with a small package of pickled vegetables: “Mimi, wait a moment, Dad will drive you to school.”

Zhou Mi quickly shook her head: “No need, Miaoyan is waiting for me at the entrance. You take your time eating.”

Her mother was washing dishes in the kitchen and turned halfway around: “You’re not having breakfast? The temperature difference between morning and night is big these days, don’t get too cold, take care of yourself.”

“I know, I’m grown up now. I’m leaving.”

Her tone was light, but after slowly closing the front door, her eyes suddenly reddened.

Zhou Mi took a light breath, composed her bitter emotions, and walked down the stairs.

The one coming to pick her up wasn’t Miao Yan, but Zhang Lian.

He had been waiting at the community entrance for a while. Seeing Zhou Mi approaching in the distance, head slightly lowered, her long hair tousled by the wind, he quickly got out of the car to meet her.

Suddenly, her right hand felt empty. Zhou Mi, still in a daze, was startled and raised her head, meeting the man’s gaze.

Zhang Lian wore a thin gray sweater today, a fitted style that subtly outlined his upper body.

He asked without emotion: “What are you thinking about? You’re not even watching where you’re going.”

Zhou Mi pursed her lips but didn’t respond.

Zhang Lian hefted the blue suitcase covered with so many stickers it nearly gave him temporary trypophobia: “Didn’t I tell you last night to pack light? Many things are already prepared in the ward.”

“Oh.” Zhou Mi responded faintly, looking like a wilted flower.

Zhang Lian walked alongside her, lowering his voice: “Are you scared? Or angry with me?”

“Can you stop talking?” Zhou Mi covered her ears with both hands. “Can’t I just be angry with myself?”

Zhang Lian nodded: “You can, but it’s not good for your health.”

Zhou Mi silently looked up at the sky.

After securing Zhou Mi’s luggage in the trunk, Zhang Lian returned to the driver’s seat. Their eyes briefly met in the air, and Zhou Mi quickly stuffed her earphones in, first left, then right, completely sealing herself off.

Zhang Lian smiled but didn’t say anything more.

As the car moved onto the road, Zhou Mi leaned her head against the window, looking unfocused at the passing high-rises.

Her mood was extremely low; even her usual music became dry and tasteless, grating on her ears, transforming from clear spring water into muddy sludge.

Just like herself, at an age when she should be awakening, she was instead muddled, stepping right into such a predicament and awkward situation.

That’s right.

She was angry with herself, frustrated and regretful to the point of sleeplessness for several nights.

Zhou Mi rubbed her sore left eye, took a long breath, and held it, as if punishing herself. Before she could exhale, a call suddenly came through on her phone.

Glancing at the name, Zhou Mi held her breath in annoyance.

She glanced sideways at the owner of the name, who had his hands on the steering wheel, driving with composure. She pressed reject in displeasure.

After a while, his call came in for the second time.

Zhou Mi finally answered, irritated: “What?”

“Is this how I have to speak with you?” Two low voices rose simultaneously from the car and in her ear, like echoes beneath a glacier.

Zhou Mi didn’t want to look at him at all, her gaze fixed on the black screen: “What do you want to say?”

Zhang Lian asked: “Didn’t we already agree on everything? Why are you giving me the cold shoulder again?”

Zhou Mi let out a low hum: “I’m the one getting an abortion, not you. Do you expect me to be all cheerful with you?”

Zhang Lian glanced at her: “You could keep it. Do you want to marry me?”

Zhou Mi felt a jolt in her heart and finally turned to him, extremely disdainful: “Who wants to marry you?”

“Exactly,” Zhang Lian curved his lips, like a gentle senior: “So don’t hang your head, and don’t harbor deep grudges. Cheer up, this is liberation for you.”

Zhou Mi retorted: “More like liberation for you.”

Zhang Lian raised his eyebrow slightly: “I never said that.”

Hypocrite.

Zhou Mi mentally posted a big-character poster criticizing Zhang Lian and carried it to their destination.

Chenghe Medical Center was far larger than Zhou Mi had imagined, like three of her school’s libraries joined together. A white rectangular castle stood at the city center, imposingly pressing forward in her field of vision.

As soon as they entered, someone came forward to receive Zhang Lian, a beautiful woman in a blue and white uniform that wrapped around her body without a trace of bulkiness. Zhou Mi couldn’t tell if she was a nurse or a receptionist.

Zhou Mi followed silently through the bright and spacious lobby and corridors.

They seemed to know each other. Zhang Lian asked a few questions, and the woman turned to look at Zhou Mi, but her gaze wasn’t offensive and didn’t linger too long, her expression remaining gentle and friendly throughout.

The three of them took an elevator together. Zhou Mi was bored, staring fixedly at the flashing images on the wall display screen.

Seeing that Zhou Mi remained silent with an unpleasant expression, the woman who was guiding them said, “Mr. Zhang, comfort your little girlfriend. She’s already unhappy, and you’re leaving her out in the cold.”

“Would that work?” Zhang Lian responded with a smile: “She’s been sulking the whole way.”

Zhou Mi’s eyebrows nearly knotted together. How could he be so shameless as to adapt so easily?

She tried to refute this “identity positioning,” but considering what she was here for, she could only clench her teeth, practicing the art of swallowing her pride.

Zhou Mi’s ward was on the twelfth floor, towards the south end.

Bright and clean, with a white color scheme, it was decorated like a showroom from a game or TV drama, complete with everything, and extremely quiet. After walking in, it seemed impossible to feel the outside weather, completely isolated from the world.

Zhou Mi stood still, suddenly feeling that everything around her had become unreal.

Zhang Lian walked past her, placed the suitcase on the coffee table, and turned to ask a young nurse who was newly attending to them: “You’ll be taking care of her from now on?”

The nurse nodded: “Yes, for the next few days, another nurse and I will take turns looking after Miss Zhou. The attending doctor will come by shortly to do some simple examinations.”

Zhou Mi, who had PTSD from transvaginal ultrasounds, snapped back to reality and asked nervously: “What examinations?”

The nurse replied: “Just basic admission examinations, complete blood count, blood pressure, heart rate, liver and kidney function tests, things like that. Don’t be nervous.”

Zhou Mi stood in place: “Mm.”

Zhang Lian looked around, glanced at Zhou Mi, who was still standing there stupidly, and gestured with his head: “Go lie on the bed.”

Zhou Mi shot back a glare, lifting her feet to shuffle towards the bedside.

The nurse hurried over to help her, but Zhou Mi anxiously deflected her hand: “No need, I can manage myself.”

Just climbing onto a bed was that necessary? While she was grumbling internally, the pretty, sweet-voiced little nurse had already bent down, taken away the canvas shoes she had just removed, and turned to leave.

“Hey?” She called out awkwardly, hesitant to speak.

The nurse turned back: “Miss Zhou, if you need anything, just tell me directly.”

“My shoes…” Zhou Mi mumbled, Where are you taking them?

“Oh,” the nurse understood, her eyes curving like crescents, pointing to a cabinet nearby: “I’ll get you a pair of disposable slippers. It will be more convenient for you to wear slippers during your hospital stay if you’re not going out.”

“…Alright.” Holding back a stomach full of uncertainty, Zhou Mi brushed her bangs and leaned back against the pillow without another word.

“Yes, please rest on the bed.” The nurse placed the white slippers embroidered with the hospital logo neatly, spread a thin blanket over her legs, and then took out two small, simple remote controls from the bedside drawer, telling Zhou Mi which button corresponded to which switch, how to adjust the height of the head and foot of the bed, and even the venetian blinds were fully automatic.

Zhou Mi started by listening attentively, but eventually became distracted, only responding with vague sounds of acknowledgment.

Before leaving, the nurse reminded her about the button within reach at the bedside: “Miss Zhou, if you need anything, just press this and I’ll come immediately.”

After watching the nurse leave, Zhou Mi finally let out a long breath of liberation, as if she had been away from the atmosphere for a while, breathing hard and fanning her face vigorously.

She glanced to the side and saw Zhang Lian sitting on the sofa.

He had been watching for who knows how long, casually resting on one armrest, his eyes playful.

Zhou Mi lowered her hand, her cheeks slightly warm. “What are you looking at?”

“Are you satisfied, Miss Zhou?” His tone was formal, addressing her the way the nurse did.

Zhou Mi’s face showed discomfort: “I thought I was experiencing the hospital version of Haidilao.”

Zhang Lian said, “I’ll go tell them to disturb you less.”

“No need,” Zhou Mi took out her phone, looking down at the time: “Everyone has their difficulties.”

Zhang Lian made no comment, got up and went to another partition in the ward, came back and said: “There’s a small room inside, I’ll come and stay with you tonight.”

Zhou Mi was busily typing on her phone, sharing complaints about her current situation with friends on WeChat. Hearing this, she was slightly startled and quickly refused: “Not necessary.”

Zhang Lian stood firm: “Why not?”

Her hands holding the phone fell back to the blanket, and Zhou Mi said seriously, “I’ve told you the reason before.”

“Hmm,” Zhang Lian’s brows furrowed slightly, as if deep in thought: “Which sentence? You say a lot when you’re emotional.”

“Just be a decent person.” Zhou Mi left it at that.

Zhang Lian smiled dismissively, sat back down on the sofa, and poured himself a glass of warm water.

Zhou Mi chatted with her best friend on WeChat for a while, then looked over at Zhang Lian. He was also looking at his phone, probably handling work matters, his expression much more serious.

Zhou Mi called out to him: “Hey.”

Zhang Lian quickly looked up, disengaging from his conversation with a friend: “Hmm?”

Zhou Mi asked: “Why aren’t you going to the office yet?”

Zhang Lian said, “Are you trying to chase me away?”

Zhou Mi candidly admitted: “I feel uncomfortable with you here.”

Zhang Lian raised an eyebrow slightly: “You used to be quite comfortable, didn’t you?”

“That’s different!” Zhou Mi was like a cat with raised fur, emphasizing repeatedly: “It’s not the same thing, don’t mix them up!”

Zhang Lian stopped teasing her: “I’ll leave after your examination.”

He added, “My friend will be coming by shortly; you can’t handle it alone.”

“I can just lie on the bed and play dead.” Zhou Mi swiftly pulled up the blanket, covering herself completely, only exposing the upper half of her face, like raising a curtain, announcing the end of all engagement with him.

Zhang Lian smiled: “I understand, handle it your way then.”

Her bright black eyes promptly closed, completely putting up a “closed for business” stance.

“So I’m leaving?” In the darkness, Zhou Mi could tell that Zhang Lian had walked a few steps closer to her, his voice becoming clearer.

“Oh.” She responded dryly.

“Contact me if anything comes up, don’t keep it all inside.” The man seemed to have stopped at her bedside. Those strong intuitions, along with his suddenly gentle tone, were like a layer of light gray fur, intertwining together, descending from mid-air, ensnaring her.

Zhou Mi’s heart tightened slightly, unintentionally holding her breath, squeezing out three words: “There are nurses.”

After a moment of silence, he finally turned away: “I’ll come to see you at noon.”

Hearing the slight sound of the door closing, Zhou Mi was finally able to breathe deeply. She opened her eyes, returning to the clear world.

In the vast white space, sunlight had already cast a patch of brightness on the ceiling. Zhou Mi stared at that spot for a long time without moving her gaze. Somehow, a strong sense of sourness rose for no reason. She sniffled, quickly pulling the blanket over her eyes.