Zhuang Yi saw the message.
He wanted to ask what was wrong, but the little niece in his arms had already begun to fuss. She wriggled and tugged at his collar, demanding attention. By the time he settled her down, the moment to reply had passed.
Xun Yuming stood by the window of the ICU corridor and looked down at the hospital entrance. It was crowded. Before long, he saw a group escorting Zhuang Yi out through the doors.
The corridor behind him was empty.
A draft slipped through the open window. It was only August, yet the air already carried a hint of early autumn.
Before leaving, he walked once more past Qin Xueyan's ward. The earlier commotion had died down. The smoke smell lingering in the corridor had dissipated. Only the two female caregivers Zhuang Yi had hired were still there, reclining in their chairs and chatting quietly.
Four and a half hours since the surgery.
He checked the time again.
If everything went smoothly, she might wake tonight.
If not...
"Dr. Xun."
Cen Ji approached, holding the pathology report.
"EMA positive. S-100 negative. It's benign."
Xun Yuming scanned the report quickly.
"It's been over four hours," he murmured, half to himself. "She hasn't shown signs of waking."
"Hey, don't rush it." Cen Ji leaned against the wall in an exaggerated pose, one hand braced high, the other at his hip. "Plenty of patients don't wake for three or five days."
"She's relatively young. Good physical condition. The tumor was small and not deep. The surgery was smooth." Xun Yuming frowned. "She should wake soon."
All surgeries carried risk.
He had known that.
He simply didn't want this risk to land on her.
"Everyone's constitution is different," Cen Ji said lightly. "Maybe she'll wake tomorrow morning."
Xun Yuming handed back the report.
"You're on night shift. Record pulse and blood pressure every hour. Watch pupil changes carefully. If anything's abnormal, call me immediately. No matter how late."
"Yes, Master," Cen Ji replied quickly.
Xun Yuming was too preoccupied to object to the title this time.
He went home.
He had the next day off.
He had barely slept. Qin Xueyan's condition and the psychological evaluation report circled endlessly in his mind. He only drifted off near dawn.
When he woke, there was still no update.
2:30 p.m.
He picked up the evaluation report and went to Zhuang Yi's house.
The taxi left him at the familiar gate. He rang twice.
The door opened.
A woman in a scarlet dress stepped out briskly. The color was so bright it almost hurt the eyes. For a moment, Xun Yuming thought of a chili pepper.
"Yes?" she asked. "Who are you looking for?"
A strong perfume followed her movement. Xun Yuming instinctively stepped back.
"Is Zhuang Yi home?"
"Zhuang Yi?" She looked him up and down, taking in his plain white shirt, jeans, and the folder in his hand. Something in her expression sharpened. "What do you want with him?"
"Is he home or not?" Xun Yuming asked, his patience thinning.
She crossed her arms and blocked the doorway. "Which university are you from?"
That did it.
"That's none of your business. I'm here to see Zhuang Yi."
She let out a short laugh.
"You're bold, aren't you? No shame at all. Are all college students like this now? See a handsome, rich man and just throw yourselves at him?"
Her voice was loud.
In the villas nearby, afternoon leisure had drawn neighbors outdoors. Heads turned. People looked.
An elderly man across the way called out, "What's going on, Cong Huan?"
"It's nothing, Grandpa." The woman didn't take her eyes off Xun Yuming. "Just another shameless one."
"Young man," the old man said, fanning himself lazily. "You won't win arguing with her. She's formidable. You're young—go do something proper. Don't waste your time."
A neighbor chimed in, "He looks honest, too. Didn't expect this kind of thing."
Heat climbed up Xun Yuming's neck.
He wanted to argue. To explain.
But explain what?
He turned and began walking away.
Cong Huan grabbed his sleeve.
"Let me tell you, Teacher Zhuang already has someone in his heart. Someone a hundred times better than you. Don't dream. Tell your shameless classmates to stop coming here!"
Xun Yuming shook her off and walked faster.
She stood at the corner and shouted after him, "If you come again, I'll go straight to your school and report you! Let your dean see what you're doing!"
His throat felt tight.
"Go report to America then," he muttered under his breath.
He hadn't eaten all day. Now humiliation churned with hunger. The road seemed longer than it had before. By the time he reached the bend, there wasn't a single taxi in sight.
Then a black SUV turned onto the street.
He lifted a hand instinctively.
The car slowed.
The window rolled down, and a little girl leaned out, curls bouncing.
"Brother!"
He blinked.
Before he could process it, the driver's door opened.
Zhuang Yi stepped out.
It was the same girl from yesterday.
An honest man doesn't accept charity.
He had just been insulted at this house. He straightened and turned to leave.
Zhuang Yi bent down, said something softly to the girl, then nudged her forward.
"Go."
"What do I get?" she asked mischievously.
"I'll buy you abalone pastries. Fresh ones from the next city," he replied calmly.
She grinned and ran toward Xun Yuming.
"Brother! Wait!"
He stopped despite himself.
She ran up, panting. "Brother, I want to treat you to dinner. Okay?"
Zhuang Yi leaned casually against the car, hands in pockets, watching from a distance.
Xun Yuming crouched down.
"What's your name?"
"Abby." Her eyelashes were longer than his. She spoke with a seriousness that didn't match her size. "You're pretty. Let's be friends."
"Did Zhuang Yi teach you that?" Xun Yuming took two leftover glucose tablets from his pocket and kept for post-vaccination children. "Tell brother the truth and you get candy."
Abby's eyes darted between the candy and the car.
"Give me one first," she negotiated.
He laughed despite himself and fed her one.
She smiled sweetly. "Carry me back and I'll tell you."
"You little schemer."
He picked her up and carried her back to the car.
"There. Your turn."
Zhuang Yi didn't move. "She said she's treating you. Has nothing to do with me."