Chapter 4

“Didn’t you say you’d be off work at 8? Why are you only home at 10?” Tang Anhua, sitting on the living room sofa watching the news but already drowsy, heard the key turn and the door close, then asked.

Tang Feiwan made up an excuse, her voice hoarse. “A new patient was transferred just before I left.” She didn’t mention that she’d spent an hour in the parking lot downstairs, trying to calm down.

“I see.” As a doctor’s family member, Tang Anhua was used to it and didn’t get suspicious. He grabbed the remote, turned off the TV, and stood up to head to the bedroom. He paused as if remembering something. “There’s mung bean soup in the fridge. Drink some after your shower to cool off.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Get some rest early. Don’t be like your mom, staying up half the night poring over academic papers.”

Tang Feiwan’s lips tugged into a small smile. “Got it. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Tang Feiwan went to her room to drop her bag, turned on the AC, and moved to the living room. She opened the sliding door to the balcony, and the little Shiba Inu rushed into her arms.

“Tomato, slow down.”

Whimper, whimper! Woof! Woof!

Tang Feiwan put her index finger to her lips, reminding the dog: “It’s late. No talking.”

The Shiba Inu seemed to understand human speech, and sure enough, he stopped barking and circled her, wagging his tail.

“Let’s sit for a while.”

Tang Feiwan brought the mung bean soup from the kitchen fridge and sat down in the wicker chair on the balcony where they would drink tea and relax. Tomato obediently squatted beside her, curling into a standard smile as he looked at her. The AC fan swung back and forth. Leaning back in the wicker chair with her eyes half-closed, she watched countless images flash through her mind like a revolving lantern.

2009, their second year together. Tang Feiwan was in her senior year, Lin Ye in her third year of graduate school on internship. During an evening stroll, Lin Ye complained to her.

“Kids are really annoying.”

At the time, she asked, “How so?”

“They’re always crying. No matter how we coaxed them, nothing worked.”

Tang Feiwan had comforted her, “It’s okay. You don’t get many chances to be around kids anyway.” Later, the two reached a consensus: neither liked children, and since they couldn’t have any, that was fine.

How could nine years have changed their likes and dislikes?

Tang Feiwan sipped the mung bean soup. The cool liquid went down her throat but couldn’t suppress the frustration clogging her chest. She spaced out on the balcony, not hearing Jiang Junli calling her from behind until the woman approached and her shadow fell across the wooden table. Only then did Tang Feiwan look up.

“Didn’t shower yet?” Jiang Junli saw she was still wearing the clothes she’d gone out in.

Tang Feiwan collected herself. “Just sitting for a bit. I’ll go soon.”

Jiang Junli was good at reading people. “Something on your mind?”

“No, I’m just keeping Tomato company.” She swallowed to cover it up, lowering her head to stroke the Shiba Inu’s head.

Since her daughter didn’t want to talk, Jiang Junli didn’t press. She changed the subject. “What’s your schedule on Friday?”

The Second Affiliated Hospital’s emergency department ran on a day-night-post-night-rest rotation: day one a day shift, day two a night shift, day three a post-night shift, day four rest. First-line doctors (residents) had 24-hour duty twice a week, second-line doctors (attending physicians and junior associate chief physicians) once a week, and third-line doctors did not take in-hospital duty.

Tang Feiwan pulled out her phone and checked the schedule. “Friday is my rest day.”

“Dinner at Juhua Restaurant at 6 p.m.”

“With who?” Tang Feiwan frowned, thinking, Please don’t say it’s a blind date. She’d chatted with Teacher Tang a couple of days ago, and he’d hinted that she wasn’t getting any younger and should marry soon.

“A distant relative. You probably met them when you were three.”

Tang Feiwan put her worries aside for the moment. “Three? Male or female? What do I call them?”

Jiang Junli said, “Your youngest aunt, Jiang Mu. She just transferred from a township traffic police squadron to our Shatan District Traffic Police Brigade. She’s two years younger than you.”

“Got it. I’ll go shower. Mom, good night.” Tang Feiwan picked up the empty bowl, went to the kitchen to wash it, then returned to her room to shower. After washing, she lay in bed fighting with herself until 2 a.m. Finally, she decided to set aside romance and focus on her career.

A person in her thirties should stay composed. If the other person was happy, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.

On the other side, in the Shujiang University family residential area, on the third floor of an old-style building, a dim yellow bedside lamp glowed in the second bedroom from the left. Lin Ye had just coaxed the child to sleep, turned off the light, and quietly left the room.

She hadn’t washed up yet, still with her long hair pinned up, wearing a beige top and coffee-colored trousers. She turned and a middle-aged woman appeared before her. Lin Ye greeted her warmly, “Aunt Hui.”

Lin Wenhui was Lin Ye’s mother’s older sister, 55 years old, a professor at Shujiang University’s College of Literature who had just retired this June. She had no children, and since her younger sister had passed away a few years back, she treated Lin Ye as her own daughter. She asked in a low voice, “Yangyang’s asleep?”

Lin Ye’s lips curved slightly. “Asleep.”

She and Lin Wenhui moved to the living room, intending to chat for a bit.

“The child is very obedient. She can wash her face and brush her teeth by herself.”

Four years ago, Lin Ye went to Kashgar Second Hospital in Xinjiang on a medical aid assignment. That summer, she delivered a pregnant woman’s baby. The child was born safely, but the mother died from massive hemorrhage. Later, they learned the baby’s father was from Rongcheng, a fire rescue cadre sent to Xinjiang who had died fighting a fire two days earlier. The pregnant woman had traveled all the way from Rongcheng to Xinjiang, and the long journey had triggered early labor.

Neither family had parents left. In other words, the child of the martyrs had become an orphan. Fortunately, the Rongcheng welfare home arranged for the child to be adopted by a family who couldn’t have children. Her life there was quite comfortable. But it didn’t last. Last August, Lin Ye received a call from the welfare home staff saying the adoptive family wanted to give her up and was negotiating with the civil affairs bureau and the welfare home.

Because the staff had kept in touch with Lin Ye, they thought of her first.

“The child has a heart condition. The family spent over twenty or thirty thousand yuan without curing her, so…”

“I’ll raise her.” Lin Ye hadn’t made the decision rashly. She had already discussed it with Lin Wenhui, saying she didn’t want to marry and that adopting a child would be nice.

Lin Wenhui also felt that forcing things never ends well. Since the family had already decided to abandon the child, it was better to bring her over. So the next morning, Lin Ye took leave, flew to Rongcheng, stayed for two days, completed the adoption procedures, and brought the child back to Shujiang.

The child was renamed Lin Yangyang.

Lin Yangyang was born premature and was diagnosed with congenital heart disease at six months: Tetralogy of Fallot. Last September, Lin Ye arranged for her to be hospitalized. After evaluation by Director Fang of the cardiac and vascular surgery department, Yangyang’s condition wasn’t yet suitable for radical corrective surgery. They could only perform a palliative procedure and observe for a while, then do the corrective surgery when she was older.

After Lin Wenhui finished speaking, seeing Lin Ye smile genuinely, she asked, “Xiao Ye, does your department have a patient named Zhong Yuanzhao?”

“Yes. Does Aunt Hui know him?” Both were professors at Shujiang University, so Lin Ye guessed they might.

Lin Wenhui sighed. “Of course I know him. Old Zhong and Old Zheng lived across from us and moved to a nursing home in the Western District six years ago. This afternoon, when I went to pick up Yangyang from kindergarten, the security guard mentioned he was critically ill.”

“We’ll do everything we can. Professor Zhong’s son and daughter are on a flight back to China. They should arrive in Shujiang tomorrow night.”

Seeing the exhaustion written on her face, Lin Wenhui ended the chat. “All right, you’ve had a busy day. Go wash up and rest early.”

Lin Ye glanced at the retro clock hanging on the right side of the AC unit. 9:23 p.m. She said okay, and they each returned to their rooms.

Late at night, as the moon climbed the treetops, Lin Ye, having finished flipping through dozens of pages of literature, finally turned off the lights and went to bed. She half-reclined against the headboard, recalling fragments of what Lu Yuqing had said.

“Tang Feiwan is from cardiac surgery, isn’t she? Why would she come to your emergency department? It’s obvious to everyone.”

“Back then, how long did you put up with her before initiating the breakup? You thought she’d ask you to stay. But what did she do? The next day, in the middle of the night, she sent one word.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? Okay, my ass. Does she know how hard those days were for you?”

“Now that she’s successful, she thinks she can come back and chase you? Tell her, no way.”

…

Lin Ye lay down, raised her hand to massage her aching temples, forcing herself to push Tang Feiwan’s image from her mind.

She told herself it was all in the past. They had no future.

The next day, it was Lin Ye’s turn for 24-hour duty. She kept an eye on Zhong Yuanzhao’s condition. Fortunately, after more than ten hours of treatment, the old professor’s condition improved significantly. At 6 p.m., the day shift handed over to the night shift. Tang Feiwan, on night duty, also thought of Zhong Yuanzhao first. She saw Professor Zheng standing outside the EICU doors, eyes brimming with tears, saying words of thanks.

Tang Feiwan didn’t greet Lin Ye. She pressed the door switch and went straight in, walking toward Professor Zhong’s Bed 5. The old man wore a ventilator and squinted at her, his fingers twitching slightly. Tang Feiwan understood. She put on a mask and hat, disinfected her hands, and leaned closer to hear him whisper, “Don’t… don’t save me. Stop saving me…”

As if he knew he was about to leave this world, he begged.

Sure enough, less than half an hour later, the nurse assigned to Professor Zhong cried out, “Bed 5’s blood pressure is dropping, and vasopressors aren’t working.”

The ward physician urgently called for help. “Go get Director Lin! The patient in Bed 5 is in ventricular fibrillation!”