The emergency department was drowning in chaos again.
Alarms screamed, wheels clattered against the tiled floor, and the bright white light flickered over the flood of patients being pushed in on stretchers.
Dr Yan Ruyan moved through it all with calm precision of someone who had lived half her life inside these walls.
"Doctor Yan, possible internal bleeding!" a paramedic shouted as he hurried beside a wheeled gurney.
"Trauma Room Two," Ruyan said, already slipping on gloves. "FAST[1] scan. Hang two bags of O-negatives."
She pivoted, only for a nurse to intercept her.
"Doctor Yan!" Nurse Aisha panted. "Seizure, Room Five!"
Ruyan didn't even blink. "Prepare Diazepam. I'll be there."
Minutes blurred.
A child's seizure.
A cardiac arrest,
A resuscitation with trembling hope.
At last, the patient's pulse returned. Aisha exhaled shakily and leaned against the wall, her hijab slightly askew.
"You've been working non-stop for weeks," she said gently.
"When will were you finally going to rest."
Ruyan stripped off her gloves, her shoulders relaxing for the first time all night.
"I'm taking three days off starting today," she murmured.
Aisha grinned.
"Good. Go before we tie you to the bed and force you to sleep."
Ruyan laughed softly.
Perhaps she really did need the rest.
The scent of herbs with the love that never fade
Outside the hospital, the world felt strangely quiet.
Warm sunlight greeted her as she walked to her grandfather's Traditional Chinese Medicine centre.
The familiar scent of herbs—ginseng, licorice root, and chrysanthemum—wafted through the air.
Shelves lined with wooden drawers covered the walls; each filled with carefully labelled medicinal treasures.
Grandfather Wen Qian was already working. His silver hair was tied neatly, his hands steady despite his age.
"Yan Er," he said the moment she stepped in, "You're supposed to be resting."
"I didn't send you home just so you could come here instead."
"I am resting, helping you is resting." Ruyan replied, fastening an apron.
"Let me help, I like learning about herbs, you know that."
"You're already a real doctor… yet you still study TCM[2] like a student." he said with smile in his face.
Ruyan packages the herbs, ties them beautifully.
"Medicine is medicine, Grandpa. Modern or traditional — we heal people." Ruyan replied.
A patient enters coughing.
"Doctor Wen, chest heat and dryness again…"
Grandfather looks at Ruyan.
She nods gently.
"I'll handle this one." Ruyan immediately rushed toward the patient.
Grandfather sighed but said nothing when she began checking a patient's pulse with gentle fingers. She prepared a prescription with swift accuracy, choosing each herb with instinctive confidence.
Ruyan checks the pulse, tongue, symptoms.
Diagnoses quickly.
Calculates herbs smoothly and hands them to the patient.
"You're as good as your grandfather! Thank you, Doctor Yan!"
Grandfather watches her with pride and a little sadness.
"Your parents would be proud of you," he whispered without meaning to.
Ruyan didn't hear him. She was too busy organizing herbs with careful hands.
But he heard his own sentence echo— and with it came a memory so sharp it stole his breath.
Flashback — Twenty Years Ago
The hospital hallway was cold, the fluorescent lights flickering above.
A fifteen-year-old Ruyan stood trembling outside the operating theatre, tears streaming down her face.
Her school bag slipped off her shoulder as she collapsed into her grandfather's arms.
The doors opened.
A doctor stepped out, blood on his gloves, sorrow carved into his features.
"Uncle Wen… Yan…" His voice cracked. "We tried everything. They… they couldn't be saved."
Ruyan screamed. The sound filled the entire corridor.
Grandfather Wen held her as she sobbed uncontrollably, her small hands clutching his coat.
Dr. Lim, her parents' friend, bowed deeply, tears in his red eyes.
"They fought so hard. I'm so sorry."
The world Ruyan knew ended in that hallway.
"Grandpa?"
Ruyan's voice pulled him from the memory.
He blinked, forcing a smile.
"Nothing, Yan Er. Go help the next patient."
She nodded and moved away, sunlight catching the side of her face—the same gentle face her mother once had.
Fragrance of Life
Later that afternoon,
Ruyan stopped by her best friend Sara's perfume workshop.
The place was always warm and bright, filled with rows of essential oils and petals drying on cloth sheets.
The moment she stepped inside, two little bodies collided with her legs.
"Auntie Ruyan!" Hana and Huan squealed.
Ruyan knelt, embracing them with a laugh.
"I brought gifts. Go look into the bag."
The children scampered away, giggling.
Sara leaned against the counter with a knowing smile.
"They adore you more than me."
"They're the closest I have to my own," Yan Ruyan said quietly.
"It's enough."
Sara passed her a dropper.
"Come help me salvage this blend before I poison the whole neighbourhood."
Ruyan inhaled the scent, grimaced.
"Your middle note disappeared again. Two drops of neroli.[3]"
The two women worked together, surrounded by flowers and laughter.
Then Sara's tone softened.
"Ah Yan… you're thirty-five. Don't you want to get married?"
Yan Ruyan paused mid-stir.
Her eyes softened.
"I love my life," she said simply.
"Grandpa, the ER, you and the kids… it's enough."
Sara hugged her gently.
"You're too good. You deserve someone who sees you."
Before Ruyan could answer, her phone rang sharply.
HOSPITAL – DISASTER RESPONSE TEAM.
She answered instantly.
"Doctor Yan speaking."
"Multi-vehicle collision on the A23! We need all hands!"
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
Sara followed her to the door, worrying clouding her eyes. "Be careful!"
Ruyan waved as she hurried out, tying her ponytail. "Always!"
But Sara didn't move.
Her hand tightened around the doorframe.
Her gaze followed Ruyan's figure until it disappeared beyond the corridor.
A strange heaviness tugged at her chest.
A quiet whisper inside her heart said—Something bad is going to happen.
Her smile faded.
"Silly feeling…" she murmured, but her fingers trembled slightly.
She stood there far longer than she meant to, staring into the empty hallway where her best friend had vanished…
unable to shake the unease that blossomed in her chest like a cold shadow
The sky was dimming as Ruyan drove toward the hospital, her hands steady on the wheel.
She called Aisha on speaker.
"I'm five minutes away. Prepare intubation[4]—"
A deafening honk cut her off.
A truck veered across the road, skidding uncontrollably.
Ruyan's eyes widened.
She turned the wheel— But the impact came too fast.
CRASH.
Metal screamed.
Glass exploded.
Her phone flew from her hand.
Her vision blurred, the world spinning.
People shouted outside.
"Call an ambulance!"
"She's bleeding!"
"Hurry, she's still alive!"
Ruyan's head fell sideways, warmth dripping down her cheek.
Her breath came shallow.
Her world faded.
"…patients… I promised…"
Her final whisper slipped away into the night.
Darkness closed in.
And everything disappeared.
[1] The FAST scan, or Focused Assessment with Sonography for Trauma, is a rapid bedside ultrasound examination used to assess trauma patients. It helps identify intraperitoneal free fluid, which is crucial for determining the need for immediate surgical intervention.
[2] Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) employs various medicinal practices to maintain or restore balance in the body. These practices include: Acupuncture, Moxibustion, Herbal Remedies, and Dietary Adjustments
[3] Neroli oil is an essential oil produced from the blossom of the bitter orange tree (Citrus aurantium subsp. amara or Bigaradia). Its scent is sweet, honeyed and somewhat metallic with green and spicy facets.
[4] Intubation is a medical procedure that involves inserting a tube, known as an endotracheal tube, into the airway to maintain an open airway and facilitate breathing. It is commonly performed in situations where a patient cannot breathe on their own, such as during surgery or in emergencies.