If Zhan said two seconds felt like an eternity before he found himself standing outside the office with his legs shaking, he wouldn't be exaggerating. Those few seconds were swallowed entirely by the effort it took him to open the door.... otherwise, he would have believed he had vanished into thin air. What had happened inside that room was something he had never felt in his entire life.
After stepping out, he had to hold his chest, feeling as if the weight on his heart would drag him to the floor. Even his legs trembled uncontrollably.
Without looking back, Zhan turned and headed down the hallway, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He wasn't even sure how he managed to find his way back into Matron Tanga's office....he only noticed he was there after he was already seated. He forced himself to hand over the uniform and said quietly that the fitting was perfect.
She didn't accept it immediately. Instead, she asked him to collect the rest of the issued supplies and then told someone to call in Aji, another nurse who would be working with him under the SRRI program, to give him a detailed briefing. Zhan was asked to wait for her arrival.
So he returned to the chairs near the door while Matron Tanga continued discussing duty roster plans with another nurse.
And that was when he felt unexpected tears sting behind his eyes. Zhan was confident and brave....he always had been. Even when he first chose this profession and Nainai had said:
"You have the strength to do this, Zhan."
And even when he began working, nothing had ever shaken him. The only time his hands had trembled was during an emergency, when a patient with a severe injury was rushed in and blood spilled out uncontrollably while he tried to start an IV line.
But whatever this was....he couldn't explain it. From the moment he picked up that letter in Uncle Nanjing's car, something inside him had shifted. Since Driver dropped him off in front of the building today, his stomach had been twisting weirdly, and the anxious pounding in his chest had never eased.
And now....after what he had just seen....how was he supposed to process it?
He shut his eyes tightly, trying to block the image.
That man, soaked from head to toe, as if he had just stepped out of a shower.
His hair dripping…
Water running down his bare chest…
How does someone take a shower with their office door unlocked? Wait....do people even shower inside hospital offices?
----
One second. Two seconds after the young man left, Yibo stared at the direction Zhan had disappeared. It truly looked like he vanished. He walked back to the door, turned the key, and locked it.
His mind told him immediately....he had simply forgotten to lock the door before entering the washroom. No wonder someone walked in. It didn't surprise him much. It wasn't the first thing he had done wrong since waking up today.
Last night, Duan had called and told him he was arriving to Beijing that night. Yibo was supposed to wait for him at home around 7am. He knew he had a surgery scheduled for 9am, and the hospital was only a two-minute drive from his apartment...or ten minutes on foot....so waiting shouldn't have been a problem.
But he simply couldn't. He spent the whole night turning on his bed, unable to sleep. At some point he stared at the sleeping pills sitting on his dressing table. He didn't take them. His body no longer responded to them....he had built too much tolerance already. What they needed now were stronger medications he wasn't willing to depend on.
So around 3am, he got up to calm himself. He fry eggs and toasted bread that had been in the fridge for three days. After eating, he showered, got dressed in a dark blue outfit tailored so precisely it looked like it had been made directly on his body.
And even then… he couldn't sit still waiting for Duan. His words "I'll arrive by seven" were empty; he knew Duan wouldn't make it before eight, if not later.
The cap he wore was dark blue with a thin white stripe. He didn't even check the mirror...just grabbed his phone and his ever-present water bottle, stepped outside, picked up his car keys, and left. He placed the spare house key under the flower pot by the doorway for Duan, then started the car and drove out.
He had just parked at the hospital when his phone rang....Duan was calling. He answered and listened to his complaints for not waiting at home, especially since it had been almost two months since they last saw each other. Yibo couldn't blame him. Duan's mother had been so excited for his return that she made Bao buns the night before, planning to steam them fresh that morning because she knew he loved them, especially when they were soft and warm. Still, Duan insisted he would come to the house after he met Yibo at the home first.
Yibo didn't know when the smile tugged at his lips, rubbing the back of his neck while listening to Duan passionately explain how the buns were prepared.
That was when his eyes caught sight of a young man stepping out of an Odyssey just ahead. His outfit was bright, illuminated beautifully by the morning sunlight. Even though Yibo couldn't see his face clearly, his eyes were drawn to him, and he found himself staring while telling Duan to calm down and go inside and rest. He promised he would come after finishing his surgery.
When the young man stepped aside to let a car drive out, Yibo thought for a moment he would see his face, but he didn't....not even when the young man adjusted the strap of his bag and walked away. The call ended then, and Yibo immediately opened his email to confirm the SRRI program schedule. He really didn't want anything that might delay him and keep Duan waiting again.
But two hours passed, and the surgery still wasn't done.
Normally, this type of case....an uncomplicated inguinal hernia....never took him more than an hour. Often less. He mostly entering the operating room only after everything was completed....anesthesia fully administered, equipment ready. He never stepped into the room until absolute readiness; once there, he focused solely on his incision and closure. His patients never saw his face, and he never looked at theirs.
Yet today, something made him turn.
The surgical lamp lit the patient's face clearly....older, dignified, with a neatly trimmed white beard. In an instant Yibo's mind told him the truth:
The man could easily be the same age his father would be now.
Although the last time he saw his father was nothing like this....years had blurred the details...time could have changed him into this man lying silently beneath the lights.
And while operating, he saw the restless faces of the young men pacing outside the hallway before he entered....clearly the patient's sons, without question. Their eyes filled with urgency and fear. Ready to spring up at the slightest movement. Loyal. Protective.
His chest tightened.
If those young men were asked what the word father meant, their answers would be worlds apart from his own.
Perhaps they knew a father who cherished them, who held their hands and guided them toward a better life. A father proud of who they were, who defended them when the world didn't understand them. One who believed in them before anyone else ever would.
Something he had never known.
Someone he had never had.
He bowed his head, his hands frozen above the surgical field, while his mind kept tearing apart the meaning of the word father....the only interpretation he had known since childhood:
Fear.
Resentment.
Arguments without reason.
Someone who never listened.
Someone who blamed you for mistakes you never made.
Someone who never once said "You tried" or "I'm proud of you."
He closed his eyes as the surgical lights continued to glare against his still hands.
If he were to stand beside those young men outside, perhaps they would describe the word father as home....a place where the heart rests.
And he… he would call it a wound.
A wound that cripples a person long before they ever learn to live.
He remained lost in those thoughts far too long, until Matron Tanga summoned his name loudly enough to pull him back to reality. Only then did he steady himself and finish the surgery, every movement heavy and deliberate.
When everything was completed and the patient was taken out, he walked straight to his office nearby. His mind churned so violently that perhaps that was why he forgot to lock the door before stepping into the shower he always took after a procedure.
And if he wasn't mistaken, the young man who had walked in earlier was the same one he noticed that morning in the parking lot. He hadn't seen his face then either, but the clothes were the same. He paused mid-movement, towel in hand, staring at his own bare torso...and then back at the door that he had now securely locked. The moment he turned and saw Zhan standing there earlier, something had shifted sharply inside his chest. He had never expected anyone to see him like that....especially not a stranger. In fact, aside from A Bo and his mother, no one in the world had ever seen him that exposed.
He looked at himself again, considering the thought, then dismissed it. There was no reason he would ever see the boy again. He put the towel aside and reached for his clothes to change.
That was when Duan's call came through again, the phone vibrating insistently across the desk.
He couldn't remember ever knowing someone with the kind of relentless heartfelt gratitude that Duan possessed. The memory surfaced clearly: the first time he had met him.
Yibo had just begun his housemanship after graduating.
He met Duan on his way back from hospital to the student lodge where he stayed. Duan sold bread on a roadside stand, and Yibo stopped there daily until their familiarity became almost accidental. It surprised even him....the most withdrawn version of himself, avoiding people and keeping everyone at a distance....yet somehow, Duan slipped through the walls he had built.
From that friendship he learned Duan's story: six years spent desperately trying to gain admission into the police academy. He refused to apply anywhere else; becoming an officer was the only dream he had. He wasn't failing....he simply never got selected, not with the country's heavy competition and limited space. To support himself and take care of his three younger sisters after their father passed, he sold bread during the day and repaired tires at night.
Then fate intervened.
The Commandant of POLAC....AIG Pei Ni....was brought to their hospital for heart surgery. Though Yibo was still a trainee surgeon at the time, he was part of the team that operated, the surgery went perfectly, and afterward he became closely involved in the man's care.
It was during those three weeks that Yibo forced himself to interact with the Commandant and his family....all because of Duan. He sat in front of AIG and pleaded on his behalf using every respectful phrase he could think of.
And miracle or not....the man agreed. He told Yibo to bring Duan along with his documents. Duan came trembling, and AIG handed him his admission confirmation personally.
Not even a year passed before Duan knocked on Yibo's door at dawn, tears streaming down his face, breathless with joy. His dream had finally come true.
And now, life had carried them all the way here....
Duan had graduated, was posted to work in Foshan, and returned to Beijing whenever he had leave.
And still, to this day, he never missed a chance to look Yibo in the eye and say:
"Thank you."
Every time. Without fail.
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛