Chapter 19

Xu Yueliang’s hand lingered on her cheek, but her furrowed brows smoothed out in an instant.

She turned to Lin Qimian, her voice bright with surprise. “Doctor Lin!”

“Mm,” Lin Qimian acknowledged.

“Yeah, I’m here to get my stitches out,” Xu Yueliang explained.

She glanced left and right, her expression hesitant, as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure she should. At last, she leaned in close to Lin Qimian and whispered, “Doctor Lin, got a minute? You all must be about to clock out. Let me buy you dinner.”

Lin Qimian’s eyebrow arched. Xu Yueliang really was an odd one. When she couldn’t remember her, not even a greeting; now that she did, dinner was on the table.

But Lin Qimian couldn’t exactly eat with her mask on, so she turned down the offer. “Not convenient for dinner, but if there’s something on your mind, just spit it out.”

You’d better have something.

Someone passed by just then, and Xu Yueliang stepped back, feigning nonchalance.

Lin Qimian: “…”

After all that effort on her part, was she now some shameful secret to Xu Yueliang?

Lin Qimian lifted a hand. “If that’s all, I’ve got work to do. Patient’s waiting.”

Xu Yueliang: “Oh—yeah, go ahead, go ahead.”

And with that, she let Lin Qimian walk away.

Lin Qimian strode straight to the hallway corner, and Xu Yueliang didn’t call after her.

Once around the bend, Lin Qimian halted and exhaled a long breath.

A flicker of indignation stirred in her. Fine if they’d never crossed paths before, but Xu Yueliang had come in for that tooth extraction, and she’d poured her heart into it. Couldn’t that leave even the slightest… special impression?

Or maybe Xu Yueliang had witnessed so many extraordinary things that Lin Qimian’s efforts barely registered.

A profound sense of defeat washed over her.

A defeat she hadn’t felt in ages.

But Lin Qimian wasn’t the type to fold at the first hurdle. She might have been when she was younger, but not anymore.

She headed to the changing room and rummaged in the corner of her locker, fishing out a backup phone. She powered it on and slotted in the new SIM card she’d stashed there, untouched until now, to register a fresh WeChat account.

She named it something nonsensical yet effortlessly cool—a single period. For her profile picture, a stark black square.

It fit perfectly with her persona as the top donor big bro: heavy on the cash, light on the words.

Lin Qimian sent a friend request to xylxyl135789, adding her Orange Live username in the note.

Approval came in a flash. Xu Yueliang’s WeChat matched her streaming handle down to the details—Little Moon, with a pink twin-tails avatar flashing a peace sign.

Lin Qimian scrolled into her Moments: a endless feed of photos—food and drinks, scenic shots, nine-square selfie grids—updated nearly every day.

The double standard left Lin Qimian wistful.

She messaged Zhenzhen: 【Anyone in the hallway?】

Zhenzhen shot back right away: 【Teacher Lin, all clear. You can sneak out early today.】

Lin Qimian: “…”

So the dinner invite had been pure politeness after all. Xu Yueliang had probably already left the hospital, diving back into work.

Lin Qimian eyed the two phones. “Jiaojiao” remained silent, but “Little Moon” pinged with cute stickers.

-【Hi Boss!】

-【Thanks for supporting my streams, Boss!】

Lin Qimian’s finger traced the screen for a moment before she typed back a simple 【Mm】.

Two more stickers followed, wrapping up the exchange.

She pocketed both phones and resolved to return to work.

If her personal life was hitting snags, at least she could chase some satisfaction on the job.

She stayed put in the clinic room right up until official quitting time, when everyone else headed out for dinner.

Zhenzhen called for her twice; each time, Lin Qimian waved her off. “You go ahead.”

Before leaving, Zhenzhen blinked mischievously. “Teacher Lin, fangirling’s gotta be in moderation, okay?”

Lin Qimian: “…I told you, I’m not.”

Zhenzhen chuckled. “I meant your little pet project at home. Man, that stuff’s addictive—hooks you deep, warps your whole worldview…”

Lin Qimian: “…”

Zhenzhen finished her nagging and departed.

Lin Qimian’s pen scratched across her notebook. Glancing down, she spotted a string of uneven circles.

They looked just like… moons…

A soft knock sounded at her office door—light, almost furtive, like a thief with a guilty conscience.

Lin Qimian looked up. Xu Yueliang’s face appeared, and her heart skipped a beat.

She hadn’t expected her here at all. It felt nothing like waiting ages for a glimpse.

The sudden ambush sent tension thrumming through her, laced with excitement, her mind plunging into a hazy fog.

Lin Qimian tore the page from her notebook and tossed it into the wastebasket. The gesture inexplicably carried a whiff of guilty conscience.

“What?” Her gaze flickered, and it took a full one or two seconds before she finally asked.

Xu Yueliang slipped inside with quick little steps, glanced back toward the door, paused a moment, then dashed over and shut it firmly.

Lin Qimian: “…”

Xu Yueliang stared at the door handle. “I noticed that after hours, most of the clinic room doors are closed.”

Lin Qimian: “…Yeah.”

Xu Yueliang turned to her. “Should I lock it?”

Lin Qimian: “?????”

Her confusion must have been written all over her face, because Xu Yueliang gave an awkward little smile, ruffled her own hair, released the handle, and walked right up to her.

She was far bolder than before. Without waiting for Lin Qimian to say a word, she dragged over a stool and plopped down.

“Hard to talk with outsiders around…” Xu Yueliang said.

Lin Qimian: “…”

She hadn’t realized when she’d been promoted to “insider” status in Xu Yueliang’s book.

Not that she’d even shared her main WeChat account.

Xu Yueliang gazed at her with earnest concern. “Doctor Lin, how did things turn out with that issue from before? You never messaged me, so I didn’t dare come to you for my stitch removal today. The prescription you wrote had Doctor Fang’s name on it, so I went to Doctor Fang instead. That should keep a lot of trouble off your plate, right?”

Lin Qimian: “…”

Did Xu Yueliang have some kind of special unhappiness detector? She’d sensed it without a word from Lin Qimian and jumped straight to a solution.

Her way of thinking was so uniquely her own that Lin Qimian decided it might be for the best to let the misunderstanding stand—to keep her in the dark about the so-called truth.

In Xu Yueliang’s mind, Lin Qimian was the kindhearted doctor who’d bent the rules for her sake, only to get reported and punished. That was infinitely better than being forgotten in a flash.

“It’s all sorted now,” Lin Qimian said. “How’ve you been feeling the last couple of days?”

“Great. The wound hardly hurts at all anymore, and I can eat plenty,” Xu Yueliang replied, lightly touching her cheek. “Stitch removal stung a little, though. Felt like it tugged.”

“Mm.” Lin Qimian thought to herself: If you’d come to me, it wouldn’t have.

Xu Yueliang flicked up her eyes. “Doctor Lin, want to take another look at the wound?”

Lin Qimian glanced at the closed door. “No need. No symptoms means you’re good.”

Xu Yueliang: “Ohhh.”

The room plunged into silence after that.

An awkward, indefinable quiet, nothing like their time in the VIP Ward.

Back then, they’d had procedures to follow, tasks that gave their interactions purpose. Everything felt logical, natural—no room for wandering thoughts.

But now the tooth extraction was ancient history. No more topics, no excuses to linger. A simple wave and goodbye should have sufficed, yet neither of them spoke.

Lin Qimian had said her goodbyes before, only to end up watching Xu Yueliang through a screen afterward, sharing her with millions of fans.

It was just like chasing a celebrity—equal parts thrilling and heartbreaking.

This time, she held her tongue. In the thickening silence, Lin Qimian rose and headed to the treatment table. “Let’s check it anyway.”

Xu Yueliang lit up. “Okay, okay!”

She hopped onto the table, and Lin Qimian examined her with extra care—not just the wound, but every tooth in her mouth.

Xu Yueliang’s teeth were petite and perfectly aligned, sparkling clean, with healthy pink gums cradling strong roots. Not a single typical dental flaw marred her smile.

Lin Qimian: “…”

Lin Qimian: “You take really good care of them.”

Xu Yueliang beamed with pride. “I’ve been meticulous about brushing since I was a kid. Remember those little booklets teaching how to wash your hands and brush your teeth? I followed them to the letter. Everyone always compliments my teeth!”

Lin Qimian: “…Mm.”

With Xu Yueliang’s eyes shining expectantly, Lin Qimian obliged. “Impressive. If everyone took care of theirs like you…”

Xu Yueliang burst into laughter, and Lin Qimian couldn’t help joining in. “…I could retire early.”

She set aside her tools, peeled off her gloves, and said with a note of resignation, “Barring any surprises, you won’t need to set foot in this dental clinic again.”

Xu Yueliang slid off the table and trailed after her. “Not even a hint of a cavity?”

“Nope.” Lin Qimian teased. “Though you might sprout a wisdom tooth on the other side.”

Xu Yueliang’s eyes went wide. “Another one?”

Lin Qimian: “Mm. Anything’s possible.”

Xu Yueliang said, “Then when the time comes, I’ll come find Doctor Lin again and have her pull it out for me. I’ll book an appointment with Doctor Lin, so no matter what we do, others won’t have anything to say about it!”

Lin Qimian paused in her movements, murmuring an almost inaudible, “Mm.”

By the time you actually book my appointment, you’ll discover my name is Lin Qimian. But will you even remember the name Lin Qimian? I won’t ask that out loud.

Xu Yueliang was about to say more when her phone suddenly rang from inside her bag.

She glanced at Lin Qimian, who tilted her chin toward it. “Go ahead and take the call.”

Xu Yueliang answered, but after just a few words, her brows furrowed.

With her face all scrunched up like that, she looked back at Lin Qimian, who had already walked over and opened the door. “Goodbye,” she said softly.

Xu Yueliang clutched her phone, staring at her in a daze.

In that moment, Lin Qimian knew, Xu Yueliang had zoned out and missed whatever was being said on the line.

Soon enough, Xu Yueliang left the consultation room, leaving behind a stifling silence.

Lin Qimian pulled out the two phones from her pocket and downloaded the Orange app on the spare one, logging into her account.

Now the two phones were fully separated—one for the online world, one for reality.

She placed both on the desk, waiting to see which would light up first.

It was the spare one. In the Voyage Group, the admin announced that Little Moon was facing a major PK showdown tonight, urging everyone to gear up: those with money should contribute cash, those with strength should lend a hand.

Lin Qimian scrolled through the group chat for a bit and pieced it together.

Another female streamer named Anna in the Dance District had been blowing up lately. Taking advantage of Xu Yueliang’s break over the past few days, she’d shot up from second to first on the popularity charts, overtaking Little Moon.

Her style was the total opposite of Xu Yueliang’s. Little Moon played up sweet and cute, while Anna’s persona was the aloof ice queen. Of course, as Dance District streamers, neither could skimp on the sexy factor.

Different styles meant different audiences.

Anna’s fans had always looked down on Little Moon, calling her childish, fake, noisy, hypocritical, and a marketing buyout.

So when Anna claimed the top spot, her fans were over the moon and piled even more mockery on Little Moon.

Fans from both sides bickered everywhere they went, but the site saw a golden opportunity. That morning, they announced a PK event where streamers could challenge each other freely, with hefty rewards for participants and winners alike.

Just now, Anna had thrown down the gauntlet to Little Moon. And before Little Moon could even confirm, Anna posted a dynamic on her homepage.

It was a viral GIF of someone teasing a turtle that kept hiding in its shell no matter what.

Anna captioned it: 【Little turtle is so cute~】

It was a blatant taunt across the void—if Little Moon didn’t step up, she’d be the coward hiding in her shell.

The Voyage Group was in an uproar. Everyone vented their outrage at the injustice.

Someone @’d Lin Qimian: 【11 Bigshot, you coming tonight?】

Lin Qimian didn’t reply. She wasn’t sure.

Logically speaking, she didn’t want to immerse herself in this crowd. She’d seen too many people in this group—Xu Yueliang had too—and blending in would just mean getting lost in the shuffle, turning into just another face.

Emotionally, though, she couldn’t predict if she’d be able to resist tuning into Xu Yueliang’s stream.

The group chat flew by with messages. Lin Qimian recalled Xu Yueliang’s furrowed brow as she left.

She had no idea how Xu Yueliang would handle the drama, but Lin Qimian was certain she’d accept the challenge.

Just like before, when Peng Xiaoshuai had been mouthing off in front of her and Xu Yueliang had popped out from behind, eyes red, loudly defending her.

Sure enough, after lunch break, Lin Qimian returned to work, and Xu Yueliang was back in the Live Streaming Room.

Right in front of all her fans, she clicked accept on Anna’s challenge, smiling brightly without a trace of worry.

“I’ll take on any challenge that fits my schedule,” Xu Yueliang said with a grin. “It’s fun competing with other streamers~”

Lin Qimian pocketed her phone, much relieved.

The afternoon patients weren’t too numerous, but one was particularly troublesome.

Right at the tail end of her shift, she plopped down beside Lin Qimian, whining and throwing a tantrum for ages.

“You turned me down last week,” Huang Xiaoyi said. “And you lied, saying you were busy. Busy with what? Tell me.”

Lin Qimian couldn’t exactly say—last week, she had been busy plotting against Xu Yueliang.

“See, see… that look on your face.” Huang Xiaoyi pointed at her. “Guilty as charged.”

Lin Qimian yielded a step. “I can have breakfast with you tomorrow morning.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “You mean we pull an all-nighter tonight and grab breakfast together tomorrow?”

Lin Qimian: “No.”

Lin Qimian: “At our age, pulling an all-nighter is way too hard on the body.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “…”

Huang Xiaoyi: “So you’re saying I should drag myself out of bed at the crack of dawn on a weekend to grab soy milk and youtiao with you?”

Lin Qimian: “You can always say no.”

Huang Xiaoyi clutched her head. “Aaaah, why is hanging out with you such a hassle? I skipped work to come over here, and now you’ve given me a legit toothache.”

Lin Qimian slipped right into professional mode. “Lie down. Let me take a look.”

As it turned out, there really was an issue. One of Huang Xiaoyi’s molars had a cavity. Lin Qimian prodded it gently with her probe and said, “You need to get this filled.”

Huang Xiaoyi gaped at her, eyes wide with horror. “Right now?”

Lin Qimian: “No time like the present. Ten minutes, tops.”

Huang Xiaoyi shoved her away and hopped off the treatment table.

“No way.” She snatched up her bag and bolted for the door. “I’m not ready for this. Just the sound of that drill makes my head throb. I figured you’d just give me some anti-inflammatories…”

Lin Qimian felt a pang of helplessness. She wondered when patients would finally get over their terror of dental work.

For some inexplicable reason, Xu Yueliang sprang to mind, and the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “I had this one patient—a little sister—who bawled her eyes out before a tooth extraction. Once I explained everything, though, she turned into an angel: totally obedient, perfectly still, just quietly shedding tears. Listened to every word the doctor said.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “…”

Lin Qimian: “You’re not even half as good.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “…”

Lin Qimian sighed. “Come on, let’s get that filling done. Dinner’s on me after.”

Huang Xiaoyi finally climbed back onto the treatment table.

True to her word, once the procedure was finished, Lin Qimian headed out of the hospital with Huang Xiaoyi.

Huang Xiaoyi was full of ideas for food, fun, and everything in between. No sooner had they buckled into the car than she was booking a restaurant table. Lin Qimian’s backup phone buzzed relentlessly in her bag. She unzipped it for a peek.

Voyage Group messages, flooding in.

Xu Yueliang and Anna’s PK showdown was kicking off soon, and word was spreading like wildfire. Orange Official had even slapped together a poster featuring both of them and slotted it into prime recommendation space.

Xu Yueliang’s Live Streaming Room was still going strong—she’d been at it for hours.

With Huang Xiaoyi right there beside her, Lin Qimian couldn’t risk pulling up the stream. Still, curiosity gnawed at her. With the big clash looming, what was Xu Yueliang up to?

Recharging with a quick break? Rallying her fans for the donation war?

Lin Qimian fished out her earbuds and slipped one into her ear.

She tapped into the Live Streaming Room, then zipped her bag shut without glancing at the screen.

The familiar background tunes drifted in—the songs Xu Yueliang was obsessed with.

Days of exposure had etched the image into Lin Qimian’s mind: Xu Yueliang swaying and bopping along.

A brief pause, and then Xu Yueliang’s voice chimed in.

“No rush—still a whole hour to go.” Her tone was light and bubbly. “Yeah, I can bust out some hourly dances~”

“No rest for me~ I’m not tired at all~”

“Hmm… outfit change? Sure thing. What vibe are you guys feeling? I’ll dig something up~~”

“JK Uniform… yeah, I’ve worn that one already. No fresh version.”

“Then it’s down to my Middle School uniform. Wanna see? Hahaha~~”

Lin Qimian’s fingers tightened into a fist.

Yes.

I want to.

Xu Yueliang from Middle School was a thorn lodged deep in her heart—a single mention, and it set her pulse racing.

Xu Yueliang: “Aw, come on, I know none of you actually want to see it. Our school uniforms were so buttoned-up and modest. One look, and you’d be hitting the books instead~”

Lin Qimian thought: Like hell.

Xu Yueliang: “Middle School me? Hmm… totally average. The kind of girl who’d vanish in a crowd. Meh grades, meh looks, just bumbling through each day all goofy and clueless. What, you don’t buy it? Swear it’s true—no one had a crush on me back then…”

Lin Qimian yanked open her bag, plunged her hand inside, and—with the ease of long practice—blindly showered the stream with gifts.

She was just about to blindly tap out a couple of words and hit send when a head poked over her shoulder. Huang Xiaoyi’s thrilled voice burst into her left ear: “Qimian, what’re you up to?!”

At the exact same moment, Xu Yueliang’s delighted cry rang from the right earbud: “Whoa, thanks, 11!”

“Nothing.” Lin Qimian shoved Huang Xiaoyi back and slapped her hand over the phone screen.

But the more secretive she acted, the more hyped Huang Xiaoyi got. Lin Qimian almost never played coy like this—it was as if someone brimming with hidden stories had finally sprung a massive leak.

Huang Xiaoyi leaned halfway across her, craning desperately for a glimpse. “Nuh-uh, I don’t buy it. Something’s up—you’re even rocking earbuds…”

Xu Yueliang’s voice came through the earphones: “11, do you want to see the school uniform or not? They all despise me. If you want to see it, just type 1. Please, give me some face, 11111~~~”

Lin Qimian frantically typed a long string of 1s, so rapidly that her fingertips went numb.

Meanwhile, Huang Xiaoyi blurted out, “Holy shit, Lin Qimian, are you watching some shady video? Why the hell are your ears so red??!!!”