They wrapped up everything before noon.
By the time the last cable was rolled and the camera safely packed, the sun had lifted itself high into the sky. Heat shimmered off the tiled roofs, turning the city into a mirage of light and stillness.
Ruolin brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and adjusted the strap of her canvas bag, notebook tucked safely within. She moved with the rest of the team, laughter rippling among them like small waves as they made their way back toward the van.
It was then, without warning, that the world tilted.
A sudden breathlessness bloomed in her chest, sharp and swift. The sunlight, which had moments ago felt warm, now seemed too bright — like glass against her skin. Her vision swam. The sound of her own name was the last thing she caught before everything wavered beneath her feet.
"Ruolin!" Arms caught her before the ground could.
She blinked quickly, dazed, as someone steadied her by the shoulders.
"I—" she started, breath shallow as she tried to get a grip of herself. "Sorry, I…"
Her friend, Qiao Hui, frowned and placed a cool hand on her forehead. "You almost collapsed. What happened?"
Ruolin blinked again. The world slowly righted itself, colours returning to their places.
"I'm okay. Just a little dizzy. Maybe I skipped breakfast." She tried a small smile.
"You never skip breakfast," came the soft rebuke from another colleague, Shen Lihua. "You even bring those little barley biscuits."
They're right. She did eat. She remembered the taste of warm soy milk just hours ago.
Ruolin gently pulled herself upright, legs trembling faintly like wind-chimes not yet still.
"I've just been tired lately," she said, brushing invisible dust from her shoulder. "We've had back-to-back assignments after all. It's nothing serious."
But Qiao Hui didn't look convinced. Her brows were knit tight, lips pressed in a line. "You say that but your face is pale. Not just tired pale, but ghost pale."
Ruolin gave a light laugh, trying to crack a joke. "Maybe I should try sunscreen with foundation in it."
"Ruolin," Qiao Hui's voice was quiet. Steady. Too serious. The kind that says 'Am I in the mood for laughing?'
Ruolin hesitated upon seeing her face, then looked down, speaking in a smaller voice. "I really think I'm fine."
They didn't argue further. But the way her friends hovered a little closer as they walked towards the van told her they didn't believe it.
~×~
Back in the department, the usual hum of the newsroom wrapped around her like a comforting shawl. Phones rang, keys clacked, voices rose and fell like the tides. On her desk, a small fan turned left and right, blowing gently over a scattering of post-it notes and scribbled ideas.
Right in front of her laptop, sat a canned energy drink Lihua bought from the vending machine, saying 'Maybe you just need some energy.' She didn't drink it though, perhaps because it's cold, perhaps because she just doesn't have the mood to. She put the drink aside for now.
Ruolin returned to work as if nothing had happened.
Cracking her knuckles, she typed slowly, steadily, pausing only when her breath caught in the tight space between two ribs. Her fingers curled slightly when the faint sensation hit again. A cramp in the chest? No. It was probably just fatigue. She was just tired.
She sipped a water and rested her chin in her palm. And then she kept writing.
~×~
By the time the evening lights began to replace the day's glow, the newsroom softened. Some had gone home. Some still lingered, finishing edits, wrapping up reports. She reached for the canned drink when Qiao Hui approached her desk quietly, arms crossed.
"You should get checked," she said, gently but firmly. "This isn't normal, Ruolin. It's not just tiredness. You looked like you were about to vanish this morning."
Ruolin glanced up, putting the drink in her bag. "I told you, I'm—"
"Fine, yes. But even fine people see doctors," she sighed and leaned back against the desk, legs crossed, looking down at her with that disappointed look her mother often gave her when she skipped meals.
Another colleague, Xiaoyu chimed in from the side, resting her chin on the back of her chair as she rolled over, eyes kind but insistent. "There's this place I went to last winter. They're clean, fast, and the doctor actually listens."
Qiao Hui raised a brow. "Actually listens?"
Xiaoyu gave an exaggerated nod. "Swear on my last paycheck. He doesn't just scribble something on your file and throw you a strip of paracetamol. He actually asks questions. Like real ones."
Ruolin smiled faintly as she shut her laptop. "That's rare."
"Exactly," Xiaoyu said. "Most places just tell you it's stress and give you pain tolerance meds like it's candy."
"And then send you off with a 'come back if it gets worse,'" Qiao Hui added, mimicking a bored voice. "Even though you're already there because it's worse."
The three of them laughed softly, the kind of laughter only people too used to pushing through fatigue could share.
Ruolin tilted her head. "Where is this?"
"LZU Medical Group. Just across the river. You know, that private clinic that opened last year? Fancy glass building with the fountain."
"Ah… yes," she said, her voice faint, almost thoughtful.
Xiaoyu leaned forward. "He's good. Dr. Li, I think his name is? Looks like someone from a medical drama. But he's smart. And he doesn't treat you like a chart."
Qiao Hui squinted at her, half teasing. "Smart? Is he handsome?"
Xiaoyu nodded solemnly. "I was staring so hard, he had to ask about my condition a second time. I completely missed the first question," she buried her face in her hands with a groan. "It was humiliating!"
Ruolin chuckled under her breath.
"But he didn't get annoyed," Xiaoyu continued, eyes dreamy. "Just smiled a little and repeated himself like a gentleman. I thought I was in a drama."
"Okay, now I want to get sick just for the experience," Qiao Hui joked. Then she turned to Ruolin. "But seriously, you've been looking pale lately. Even your lips look tired."
"And you're always out on assignments. Come on, Linlin," Xiaoyu said softly, almost pleading. "Get yourself checked. Just once. If not for us, then for your own peace of mind."
Ruolin looked between them — two colleagues, two friends, worry hidden under humor.
She smiled, just barely, as she put her laptop inside her bag.
"Alright. I'll… think about it."
~×~
That night, when she returned home, she placed her notebook on the table and sat by the window, watching the city hum beneath a sky painted in smoky blue.
Her heart thumped — not painfully, but unevenly. Like a song trying to find its rhythm.
She picked up her pen, and with a quiet breath, she wrote:
"I stumbled today. Not because I was lost, but because my body whispered something I didn't understand. And I think… it's time to listen to it."
Outside, the streetlamps flickered on, one by one. And from a building not far away, the glass walls of a clinic reflected the soft glow of the city — as if it was waiting for someone.