Chapter 4

Lin Qimian finished speaking and waved to everyone before leaving the break room.

The break room fell silent for half a minute. Once they were sure Lin Qimian was gone, it erupted into chaos.

Everyone started talking at once, all their questions directed at Peng Xiaoshuai.

“What’s going on? Teacher Lin actually cares about you watching streams?”

“Xiaoshuai, you’re something else. Are you usually close to Teacher Lin? She hardly ever talks to us.”

“She doesn’t waste words. Her meetings are pretty detailed.”

“Exactly! So what’s your deal with Teacher Lin, Xiaoshuai? She asked for your streaming account, and you still haven’t given it to her!”

“No way—are you some distant cousin or something? Damn, Peng Xiaoshuai, you’ve been hiding a big secret!”

Peng Xiaoshuai’s mind buzzed. He waved his hands frantically, denying it all, but there were too many questions, and everyone was too excited to listen to him.

By the end of the barrage, even Peng Xiaoshuai was plunged into deep confusion.

He knew he had no family ties to Lin Qimian. He remembered how, when he’d tried giving gifts to teachers from various departments to build rapport, Lin Qimian had rejected him outright—and harshly, at that.

“Come to the hospital to study properly. Don’t think about all that nonsense.”

That was Lin Qimian’s assessment of him, and it still made Peng Xiaoshuai a little afraid whenever he saw her.

So why was this happening? Peng Xiaoshuai lowered his head and stared at his phone.

There was nothing special about his profile. His family wasn’t wealthy, and as just an intern, he couldn’t splash much cash on entertainment anyway.

Lin Qimian seemed like the type who had no idea Orange Live even existed. So why was she suddenly interested in how much he was spending on a streamer?

What did her last words really mean? Was she telling him to spend money on Little Moon, or the opposite?

“You guys think…” Peng Xiaoshuai spoke up, his eyes fixed on Little Moon’s sexy and adorable photo on his phone. “Teacher Lin must really hate female streamers like this, right?”

Everyone paused. Peng Xiaoshuai felt like he was onto something. “Someone like Teacher Lin—good family background, highly educated, saves lives at work, publishes two or three papers a year—she’s gotta look down on the streaming industry a bit…

“She’s probably just reminding me not to waste money on streamers.”

Peng Xiaoshuai gripped his phone, his expression conflicted. “Fine, I won’t spend any for now. Little Moon’s coming to our hospital tomorrow to get a tooth pulled. She better not run into Doctor Lin.”

After finishing lunch in the cafeteria, Lin Qimian returned to her clinic room.

Their hospital had plenty of space, so each attending physician had their own fixed, independent clinic room. Lin Qimian didn’t have the habit of taking a nap after lunch, and she preferred quiet surroundings. So after eating, she would come back here to tidy up, read a book, listen to music—whatever suited her.

Today, however, the half-read book lay abandoned on her right side. She held her phone in her hand and hadn’t opened it for a good while.

For the first time, the phone in her pocket felt so heavy, so insistent. She could sense the weight of it, and Orange Live’s siren call.

According to Peng Xiaoshuai, Xu Yueliang streamed far longer than most. She’d only logged off at two in the morning last night—was she already gearing up to go live again?

Peng Xiaoshuai knew all the gossip about Little Moon, but he didn’t actually know Xu Yueliang as a person. So how much of that info was real, and how much was fabricated?

Had Xu Yueliang really dropped out of university to start streaming? Looking back, the domestic streaming scene hadn’t even taken off yet—it was like wading into uncharted waters, and public bias against online streamers was at its peak.

What kind of turning point had led a shy, timid girl from Middle School to choose such a controversial career? And what had kept her going through all those hardships for so long?

Lin Qimian felt like she needed an in-depth interview with Little Moon. But she knew no such thing existed.

During streams, no one cared what was going on in Little Moon’s head. The clips on her profile page were all just her dancing, getting bullied by fans, or messing up and making a fool of herself…

What was Xu Yueliang really like now?

What was Xu Yueliang really like?

Lin Qimian never let a question linger in her mind for more than a day.

Unless it was one of humanity’s great unsolved mysteries.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, first calling the Hospital Administration Office. Then she messaged Huang Xiaoyi: 【Do you know what major Xu Yueliang studied in university?】

Huang Xiaoyi replied almost immediately.

-【I don’t know.】

-【I’ll go ask.】

-【Wait a bit.】

Lin Qimian stared at her phone screen and waited.

Ten minutes or so later, Huang Xiaoyi sent a message:

[S University, Chinese Language and Literature, Education Track.]

In other words, she had originally planned to become a teacher.

The gap between being a teacher and being a streamer was enormous.

Lin Qimian: [Did she take any other jobs after graduation?]

Huang Xiaoyi:

– [No clue on that.]

– [I asked our old class monitor, so I only know where she got into college.]

– [I’ll dig around some more for you.]

– [What else do you want to know? Send it all over at once.]

– [Anything I can find out, just like back in Middle School.]

Just like back in Middle School.

Lin Qimian’s heart skipped a beat. She replied quickly: [No.]

– [No need to dig.]

– [Just asking out of curiosity.]

– [I’m just interested in the streaming world.]

Huang Xiaoyi typed and deleted a few times before finally sending a single word: [Oh.]

Lin Qimian put her phone away and picked up her book.

After work that day, she had no dinner engagements or streams to watch. She tossed her phone into her bag, hung the bag on the rack by the entryway, and headed into the bathroom for a long soak.

She didn’t get out until the water had gone completely cold. She blow-dried her hair until not a trace of dampness remained before wrapping herself in a towel and leaving the bathroom.

She didn’t feel like reading, and she didn’t feel like turning on the computer.

Night had fallen. A remote crescent moon hung in the deep blue curtain of the sky, casting dim light into the room. Lin Qimian switched on the projector and watched a movie.

It was a black-and-white musical, full of old-fashioned arias and a plodding plot that dragged on and on. It reminded her of her teenage self, curled up alone at home.

Not much had changed now.

The next day brought sweltering, suffocating humidity.

The walk from the subway exit to the hospital was enough to leave Peng Xiaoshuai drenched in sweat.

He lingered in the changing room for a good while, wiping the sweat from his face and body, spritzing on some antiperspirant, and combing his hair until it gleamed. Only then did he step out.

On his way to the department, a friendly nurse greeted him. “Xiaoshuai, you’re looking extra handsome today.”

Peng Xiaoshuai drew a hand across his forehead. “Special day calls for special measures.”

The nurse covered her mouth and whispered, “The female streamer?”

Peng Xiaoshuai’s mouth curved into a massive grin. “You got it.”

The nurse said, “But Teacher Fang isn’t in today. She’s off at a conference.”

“Huh?” Peng Xiaoshuai froze and fumbled for his phone. “She didn’t mention any conference. We were talking yesterday morning about the cases she’d be handling today.”

The nurse replied, “Director Chen mentioned it. It’s that academic exchange in B City—they sent Teacher Fang.”

Peng Xiaoshuai pulled up his WeChat chat with Teacher Fang. No new messages. He checked her Moments and saw a photo she’d posted half an hour ago: her at the airport, ready to depart.

He panicked at once. “Why the sudden business trip? She didn’t even tell me. What about today’s patient, then…”

The nurse patted his shoulder. “Relax. They won’t put you on it. It’ll probably go to one of the other doctors in your department.”

Other doctors… Peng Xiaoshuai hurriedly checked the schedule. There, among the attending physicians in Maxillofacial, was Lin Qimian’s name.

“Damn…” he muttered.

Lin Qimian had a busy morning, handling two surgeries—one of them tricky enough to keep her on her feet for ages.

As she finished explaining post-op instructions to the patient, Peng Xiaoshuai slipped into her clinic room and set a box of fresh Sunshine Roses on the desk.

Lin Qimian ignored him. He hovered awkwardly for a moment before leaving.

Once the patient was gone, her assistant Zhenzhen picked up the box. “Teacher Lin, want some now? I’ll wash them for you.”

Lin Qimian peeled off her gloves. “I don’t like fruits that are too sweet. Go ahead and have them.”

Zhenzhen set the box aside. “Okay, maybe at lunch then.”

“Mm.” Lin Qimian headed to wash her hands.

With no patients waiting, Zhenzhen lingered in front of her, hesitating a few times before speaking up. “Teacher Lin, Peng Xiaoshuai’s come looking for you a bunch of times already. You know, Teacher Fang’s intern…”

Lin Qimian pumped out extra soap. “Mm, I know.”

Zhenzhen went on, “Must be something important. Weren’t Teacher Fang’s patients reassigned here? There’s surgery this afternoon—maybe he wants to observe? Your tooth extractions are top-tier in the hospital. Everyone wants to come steal your techniques.”

Lin Qimian dried her hands. “What he wants to see probably isn’t the tooth extraction.”

Zhenzhen’s eyes went wide. Lin Qimian said, “Go call him over.”

Peng Xiaoshuai arrived quickly. Lin Qimian sat behind her desk, the computer screen displaying the hospital system logged in under Fang Huizhen’s account. Xu Yueliang’s name was listed among the patients.

Lin Qimian stared at that name and asked Peng Xiaoshuai, “What do you need from me?”

Peng Xiaoshuai said, “Teacher Lin, you’ve had a tough day. Teacher Fang has a meeting, so all her appointments got shifted to you…”

Lin Qimian replied, “Cut to the chase.”

Peng Xiaoshuai froze for a second, then jutted out his neck and met Lin Qimian’s gaze. “Teacher Lin, there’s a patient this afternoon named Xu Yueliang—the female streamer I mentioned yesterday in the break room. Rest assured, I didn’t egg her on to blow money. She does legitimate work, and I’m a legitimate viewer.”

Lin Qimian: “…And?”

Peng Xiaoshuai: “She’s pretty timid and might end up crying, so I hope you won’t mind. I’ll do my best to soothe her. If it’s okay, I’d like to apply to be your assistant for this surgery.”

Lin Qimian found the whole thing rather amusing.

Back in Middle School, Xu Yueliang had been a ditzy little thing, the sort of girl who never hung out with boys. The activity she threw herself into with the most gusto every day was dashing to the school shop after class for snacks and drinks.

Spicy strips, lollipops, fifty-cent sodas—she’d munch away as she strolled back to the classroom, eyes squinted shut in sheer delight.

A girl like that would’ve vanished into any crowd. Yet now she had somehow become a goddess in someone else’s eyes.

Online viewers numbered in the thousands, but these real-life “true fans” were pathetically eager to crowd around her, acting as if they shared even a sliver more connection with Xu Yueliang than Lin Qimian herself did.

Lin Qimian curved her lips into a smile. “Sure.”

In a voice gentle and utterly serene, she continued, “No matter a patient’s profession, background, or our personal ties to them, we doctors treat everyone equally.”