Three years later.
No. 18 Danxia Road in the capital city, an old, small building nestled in a residential area, housed a private clinic.
The clinic was named "Yan'an Hall."
Yan'an Hall had three floors.
On the first floor, half the space was occupied by the Chinese and Western pharmacy and the registration and payment counter.
The remaining half was divided into the consultation room of the owner and chief physician Qin Yanshu, an area for patients to queue, a trauma treatment room, a guidance desk, and a row of chairs for patients to rest.
The second floor housed the infusion room and the instrument examination room.
Climbing up to the third floor, one was greeted by a uniform sight: acupuncture treatment rooms.
From the left end to the far end of the corridor, there were six rooms in total, each equipped with four beds.
At any given time, treatment could be provided to 24 patients.
The medical facilities were limited, far from sufficient to meet the demands of the vast patient market.
Soft chairs were installed in the hallway.
Patients with larger bottoms squeezed in a little, while those with smaller ones made a bit of room for others to squeeze in.
Those who couldn’t find a seat stood against the wall.
Everyone held a treatment slip brought up from the first floor, prescribed by Qin Yanshu.
Patients, big-eyed and small-eyed, all stared intently at the treatment rooms.
Hoping they would be next.
Against the wall, three grown men stood side by side.
A refined-looking man with a scholarly air asked, "Which doctor did you guys register with?"
A man with a round face chuckled, "I heard her surname is Shi."
A buzz-cut man with a cold expression said, "That woman wears a mask every day. No one has ever seen what she looks like."
The refined man smiled, "I was referred by a friend. I heard she practices Qigong and uses Qi-guided flying needles. She’s very skilled at treating injuries and pain."
Others joined in the conversation.
"The treatment results are undeniable, but getting in line is tough."
"Why doesn’t Dr. Qin come up to work together? If both doctors worked at the same time, things would go faster."
"Dr. Qin graduated in clinical medicine. His acupuncture skills can’t compare to Dr. Shi’s."
"Actually, there are two acupuncture specialists on the third floor, but ninety-nine percent of the patients come specifically for Dr. Shi and request her by name."
"Numbers 25 and 26, come in. Numbers 27 and 28, get ready." A nurse opened the door.
The refined man walked over gracefully.
He was met by a slender figure in a white coat, a woman in her twenties, wearing a medical mask, with her hair tied in a loose bun. Her large eyes, visible above the mask, emitted a soft glow.
She must look beautiful when she smiles, the refined man thought as he lay down on the bed with a smile.
"Are you Dr. Shi?"
"Yes, what seems to be the problem? Let me take a look."
"Ah! I’m an online writer. I spend most of my time at home writing, and my neck has been bothering me. Recently, I’ve been experiencing dizziness and headaches."
"Don’t worry. Stick to one treatment course, and your symptoms will disappear."
"Thank you so much."
Due to his profession, the refined man had a keen interest in the ways of the world. He couldn’t take his eyes off Dr. Shi.
The doctor’s eyebrows and eyes possessed the pristine, ethereal beauty of a fairy in a painting. Her forehead was flawless, and a few strands of hair gently framed her ears, with small earlobes as white and warm as jade.
Her voice was particularly pleasant to the ear—sweet, soft, and gentle, giving the impression of a woman with no temper.
If she were to take off her mask, her face would surely…
Just as he was lost in thought.
A guide nurse rushed in, calling out urgently, "Dr. Shi, there’s been a car accident at the entrance. Three injured people came in seeking help. One of them needs bone-setting."
"Sorry, please wait a moment. I’ll go down right away."
With that, Dr. Shi left.
The refined man: Left lying there alone.
It's quite alright; encountering a woman who stirs one's heart makes the wait a delightful experience.
Outside, Dr. Shi ran downstairs.
The patients queuing on the first floor to get their treatment forms noticed her.
A crowd surged toward her in a swarm.
"Dr. Shi, Dr. Shi, you're really busy today, huh? The queue is already past number 70."
"Dr. Shi, I finished the traditional Chinese medicine from last week. I'm here for a follow-up today. I'll come find you on the third floor later."
"Dr. Shi, I brought you a piece of ham. Take it quickly~"
The triage nurse used all her might to push aside the various arms reaching out.
"Everyone, don't crowd. There's an emergency patient needing treatment. Dr. Shi is busy right now."
"Oh~ then make way quickly. Don't delay the doctor."
An elderly woman with a loud, booming voice shouted, and everyone automatically stepped back, moving to the side to continue queuing.
Dr. Shi was led to the surgical treatment room.
As soon as she entered, her keen eyes caught sight of a scene that could be described as earth-shattering and tear-jerking.
Five men crowded around the surgeon.
One was Mao Bin, with a gash on his forehead, a large wad of tissue pressed against it, blood seeping through his fingers.
Another had a swollen, reddened eye, his hair disheveled and covered in dust. She didn’t recognize this person.
The remaining three were: Lu Xicheng and his two childhood friends.
Lu Xicheng’s right arm rested on the doctor’s worktable. It seemed he was the one who needed a bone set.
After so many years, Lu Xicheng’s appearance had changed significantly.
He wore a black baseball cap, its brim pulled low, covering half of his sharp eyebrows. He had on a stylish black short-sleeved T-shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders, with well-developed muscles bulging beneath. He wore black pants and black flat shoes.
An outfit fit for a funeral.
It was worlds apart from the cool, arrogant, and flashy CEO style he once had.
Looking at his face, the youthful vigor and ambition were gone.
His handsome face seemed weathered, as if his face had been reshaped. His features were sharp and hardened, mature yet imposing, cold and aloof. An overly severe sense of detachment added a touch of hostility to him.
It was as if the whole world owed him something.
He looked as if he had an irreconcilable feud with Old Wang from the vegetable market over a stolen wife.
Even though fate had dragged someone who should never have reappeared before Dr. Shi, a situation shocking enough to shake heaven and earth, she still saw them as… no different from the dead.
In a doctor’s eyes, the dead represent the end of an era, incapable of stirring even the slightest ripple.
The surgeon hired by Qin Yanshu quickly offered his chair.
"Dr. Shi, please sit."
The surgeon moved to another worktable to clean Mao Bin’s wound.
Dr. Shi nodded.
She sat down.
Changed into a pair of surgical gloves.
She gently touched Lu Xicheng’s immobile hand resting on the worktable, already understanding the situation.
With her left hand, she lifted his arm, and with her right hand, she held his palm, slowly feeling along the bones and tendons to locate the fracture.
Crack!
Done.
She let go, lowered her voice, and adopted a weathered, mature tone to instruct, "It’s set. Try moving it a bit."
This hand lifted before her eyes.
It swayed left a few times, then right, fingers grasping at the intangible air.
His childhood friend Qi Jingye exclaimed in delight, "That’s it? A miraculous cure! No wonder this little clinic is packed with patients."
His other childhood friend Peng Yu gave a thumbs-up.
"Tsk tsk! So impressive! What’s your name, doctor? Leave your contact info. With skills like yours, I guarantee you’ll become rich and successful."
Peng Yu handed over his phone, the add-friend QR code facing up.
Lu Xicheng’s words cut in midway, "You all go out first. I have a few things I want to say to the doctor."
The six men immediately turned and walked out.
Freshly stitched up, Mao Bin was assisted by a male doctor in moving to another location for further treatment.
The atmosphere grew delicate as Dr. Shi fixed her gaze on Lu Xicheng.
In his eyes smoldered an ancient fire, flickering with an unusual light.
Lu Xicheng was also watching her, and right under her gaze, his thin lips curled into a smirk.
"Shi Wan!!"
A tone that was both mocking and nonchalant, yet utterly certain.
Shi Wan didn’t know how he had recognized her, nor did she care about his sudden appearance.
Her heart was a stagnant pool of water. She stood up and turned to leave.
Suddenly, a dark shadow flashed before her eyes—a large figure blocked the door.
Lu Xicheng’s lazy voice drifted down from above her head, "You actually… deceived me!! Hah!"
"Sir, I have no idea what you’re talking about."
No sooner had she spoken than a large hand reached for Shi Wan’s face. She swiftly tilted her head, protecting her mask.
At the same time, she struck back like a thief-catcher, slapping Lu Xicheng’s hat clean off his head.
Instantly, a flash of white light filled her vision.
She turned back and saw a completely bald head.