Chapter 9: Her Heart Beat for Her One Second

Shen Chaoyi pressed her lips together, then walked over to Zhou Jinglong and gave a slight nod. “Director Zhou, you wanted to see me.”

“You, you… come with me.” Zhou Jinglong pointed at Shen Chaoyi, glanced around, and suppressed his anger.

He didn’t stop until he reached the office.

Shen Chaoyi followed him in, closed the door, and stood in front of his desk.

“Chaoyi, tell me, how could you make such a rookie mistake? The merit assessment is coming up soon, and everyone in the department is being extra careful, terrified of making a single misstep. And you, right at this critical moment, in front of so many people, you go straight into rescue breathing with no protective measures? Where’s your professionalism? Where’s your rigor?”

Shen Chaoyi was one of Zhou Jinglong’s protégés. She had always been someone he could count on.

Her surgery success rate was the highest in the department, and she hardly ever made mistakes. When it came to future promotions, she’d be the first choice without a doubt.

But now, she made such a basic error. With so many eyes watching, people with loose tongues would be spreading rumors behind her back soon enough.

Shen Chaoyi opened her mouth, but before she could get a single syllable out—

Zhou Jinglong continued, “If you didn’t have a bag-valve mask or gauze, it might be understandable. But you deliberately removed the bag-valve mask to do direct mouth-to-mouth? What were you thinking? Huh?”

It was a minor thing. It wasn’t even technically a mistake.

But Zhou Jinglong didn’t want Shen Chaoyi to give anyone ammunition to question her competence, so he was getting worked up.

“The bag-valve mask wasn’t delivering enough oxygen. She had already suffered one cardiac arrest by then, and the chances of her heart restarting were extremely low,” Shen Chaoyi said, her voice low and gentle.

Zhou Jinglong slapped the desk. “Is that an excuse? Shen Chaoyi, it seems you’re still not calm enough.”

“Under any circumstances, your own safety comes first. You’re a doctor, not a god.”

“Yes,” Shen Chaoyi replied.

She sounded completely obedient.

Zhou Jinglong took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. “This is the first time. I hope it’ll be the last, Chaoyi. I believe you won’t let me down.”

When he was really angry, the wrinkles on his face seemed to deepen.

Shen Chaoyi nodded respectfully. “I understand, Teacher.”

She changed the title, showing her deep respect for Zhou Jinglong.

Actually, with all his responsibilities—managing hundreds of people in the department—he didn’t have to set aside time just to wait for Shen Chaoyi over such a trivial matter.

But Zhou Jinglong had her back. He was worried about her, afraid she’d be caught in a trap that would affect her career.

So Shen Chaoyi naturally respected him.

Hearing her call him “Teacher” doused half the fire left in Zhou Jinglong’s anger.

He grunted and waved his hand. “Alright, alright. You’re busy, and there are plenty of patients. I won’t hold you up. Go on. Be careful from now on.”

“Okay.” Shen Chaoyi bent slightly, backed out, and closed the door.

As soon as she turned around, Han Yecheng poked his head in. “Director didn’t chew you out, did he?”

Both Han Yecheng and Shen Chaoyi had been interns under Zhou Jinglong.

Shen Chaoyi was caught off guard. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Ah… you.”

Why did he always appear behind her without a sound?

Han Yecheng withdrew the hand he’d been reaching toward Shen Chaoyi’s shoulder and gave an awkward smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Shen Chaoyi pulled herself together and forced a smile.

“Director must have yelled at you, right?” Han Yecheng followed behind Shen Chaoyi.

Zhou Jinglong always put on a stern front. During department meetings, someone almost always got chewed out.

Shen Chaoyi took out her phone, glanced at the time, and said softly with a smile, “No, he didn’t.”

“By the way, how’s Yi Qingzhuo? She was just admitted to the ICU.”

Han Yecheng wanted to ask more, but Shen Chaoyi had already changed the subject, so he didn’t press.

So he answered, “I just finished my rounds and came down. I haven’t checked on her yet. The anesthesia should be wearing off by now.”

“Oh, I’ll go see her.” Shen Chaoyi pressed the elevator button, figuring Yi Qingzhuo was probably awake by now.

Hearing that, Han Yecheng quickly said, “Aren’t you going to get something to eat?”

The elevator doors closed, cutting off the rest of his words.

Shen Chaoyi lowered her gaze, staring at her blurry reflection in the elevator doors.

Unconsciously, she pressed her lips together. That soft sensation surged up again.

At that moment, Yi Qingzhuo’s heart had miraculously beat just once.

If it hadn’t been for the monitors, no one would have known. Even with the monitors, that one beat felt like an illusion.

Why? Why at that moment did her will to pull someone back from the brink of death reach its peak?

She actually had pretty strong empathy. In a hospital, where life and death were everyday realities, that kind of personality was a disadvantage.

So every time she participated in a rescue or surgery, she gave it her all, unwilling to miss even the slimmest chance.

Even so, she remained calm and rational, handling everything methodically.

But when she was rescuing Yi Qingzhuo, she had especially lost control of her emotions.

Maybe it was the sight of Yi Qingzhuo covered in blood that hit her senses. Maybe it was the faint connection she’d already had with Yi Qingzhuo. Maybe they were both women, and Yi Qingzhuo carried that untouchable, unfazeable aura. Maybe…

There were many reasons, all tangled up.

That instant—Shen Chaoyi couldn’t grasp it. It came and went in a flash.

Zhou Jinglong was right. At that moment, she wasn’t calm. All she wanted was to hold on to Yi Qingzhuo, still warm, and bring her back.

She’d come so close. So close to a world without Yi Qingzhuo.

The elevator arrived. Shen Chaoyi snapped back to the present.

“Dr. Shen.” Yi Changhuan had been waiting outside the ICU.

Visitors weren’t allowed in yet, so she couldn’t go inside.

Shen Chaoyi’s eyes carried a smile as she said warmly, “Auntie, I’ll go in and check on her in a moment. If she’s awake, you can watch her through the screen in the room next door.”

“Oh, okay, okay. Thank you, Dr. Shen.” Yi Changhuan’s face lit up with barely contained hope.

The warmth in Shen Chaoyi’s expression froze at the edges. “You’re welcome.”

With that, she pushed open the door and went in.

She walked to the ICU nurse station, bent her knuckles slightly, and tapped the marble counter. “Show me the monitoring data for Room 3.”

Shen Chaoyi flipped through the records from Yi Qingzhuo’s machines. “Is she awake?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Good. I’ll go in and take a look.” Picking up a file folder, Shen Chaoyi went to the sterile room to change into sterile gear.

Inside, Yi Qingzhuo had already regained consciousness. She heard someone come in but didn’t move—only her eyes shifted.

She saw her. Even through the sterile suit, mask, and cap, fully covered, Yi Qingzhuo still recognized Shen Chaoyi.

The moment their eyes met, it felt like a current shot through her brain.

There was the memory of a pair of warm, soft lips pressing against hers—so warm, bringing her that one second of oxygen.

Her heart had beat for that one moment.

In a daze, the sounds around her were chaotic and loud, but one voice stayed close, right beside her.

That voice was like sunlight—warm, seeping into her heart, filled with strength.

When her mind went blank, a suffocating wave of pain slammed into her, crushing the air out of Yi Qingzhuo’s lungs.

An overwhelming agony tortured every nerve in her body. She felt like she was falling into an icy cellar, unable to ever crawl out, the warmth leaving her body bit by bit.

On the brink of death, she thought she heard someone calling her name.

Urgent, frantic—as if someone was desperately trying to hold on to her.

She was in so much pain. Too much pain to think. Too much pain to open her eyes.

All that was left before her was desolation. She felt that at that moment, she should leave this world.

She had only wanted to live a decent life, but the world had given her nothing but malice.

She was just one month away from the college entrance exam. With her consistent grades over three years, a top university was almost in her grasp.

But she was sentenced to ten years in prison. A full ten years—she missed the best years of her youth.

After getting out, she only wanted to live peacefully with her mother. Three meals a day. That was all.

But people kept provoking her. One woman alone—how could she fight a whole group by herself?

So she had to become cold-blooded. She had to become unafraid of pain, so that others would fear her.

Anyone who got close to her wouldn’t have a peaceful life. Any of them.

Yi Qingzhuo parted her dry, cracked lips, struggling to make a sound.

But with the oxygen mask on, her faint voice was lost. Shen Chaoyi, standing by the bed, couldn’t hear anything.

After a few attempts, Yi Qingzhuo just closed her mouth.

The pain, once the anesthesia wore off, grew sharper and sharper all over her body. Yi Qingzhuo endured it in silence.

Alone in the empty ICU, the only sounds were the occasional beeps of the machines.

Shen Chaoyi frowned slightly and said to the weak Yi Qingzhuo, “Your mother is just outside. In a moment, she’ll be able to see you through the camera over there.”

“You’re not out of danger yet. If your numbers improve by tomorrow, you can be transferred to a general ward.”

“You have many knife wounds. They’ve all been treated now. Don’t worry.”

“It’ll get better.”

“I’ll keep a close eye on your condition. Let the nurse know if you feel anything wrong, or tell me directly. I’ll handle it promptly.”

Shen Chaoyi didn’t seem curious about what had caused Yi Qingzhuo to end up in this state. She just spoke gently, offering reassurance.

It’ll get better.

Yi Qingzhuo’s eyes flickered. A faint sorrow surfaced in her gaze.

Would it really get better?

She didn’t know. She didn’t even have any expectations anymore.

If it weren’t for her mother, she probably wouldn’t need to exist in this world anymore.

Yi Qingzhuo had always thought that. And acted accordingly.

“Yi Qingzhuo, live well.” Shen Chaoyi’s eyes crinkled with a smile.

The person she had fought so hard to save had to live well—that only made sense.

Maybe Yi Qingzhuo’s demeanor was just too negative. Without a second thought, the words slipped out of Shen Chaoyi’s mouth.

Even though all Yi Qingzhuo could see were Shen Chaoyi’s eyes, she could tell Shen Chaoyi was smiling when she said that.

She was like the morning sun—bright, radiant, and warm deep inside.

Yi Qingzhuo’s lips curled up ever so slightly. She couldn’t speak, so she just lifted her eyelids a little.