Hospitals are where the full spectrum of human behavior shows itself.
Take the family in front of her, for example. The father was overbearing, the mother domineering. Their child’s persistent high fever became the doctor’s fault. No matter how many times the doctor explained, it made no difference. In the end, the middle-aged couple lost control.
One of them made as if to strike the doctor; the other flung themselves to the ground, wailing like a scene from some tragic play.
Zhong Nian, as an observer, usually wouldn’t intervene.
Chinese people liked watching drama—but it was never their business. Many around her felt the same.
But today, she couldn’t stay back. The child had just been kicked aside by the parent, and the couple was about to overturn the office.
Zhong Nian parted the crowd and scooped the child into her arms.
The man glared at her, voice reeking of alcohol. “Who the hell are you?”
The woman screamed, “My child! Someone’s taking my child!”
“….”
Zhong Nian approached her, returning the child to her arms. Calmly, she said, “Quiet.”
Then she turned to the man. He still clutched the doctor’s coat, a clean white lab coat now crumpled in his grip. The doctor was sweating, hair disheveled, utterly helpless.
Hospital rules demanded subservience until personal safety was threatened.
A strike now would feel satisfying, but tomorrow, disciplinary action would follow. The man’s name could even make trending headlines. Career mattered more than pride.
Zhong Nian approached him. She was shorter, but somehow her presence dominated.
Her features were cold, her gaze sharp. She scanned his hand gripping the doctor’s coat. “Let go.”
The man, provoked, cursed. “Who the hell are you, coming here to meddle in my business?”
Zhong Nian’s voice remained clear and icy: “I’m a reporter. Let go now.”
The man rolled his eyes. “Reporter, big deal? I’m the king here!”
Logic only worked with reasonable people.
With a brute, every word you speak risks a slap.
Sure enough, the other hand swung at her.
The crowd gasped as his huge hand approached.
Zhong Nian twisted, caught his wrist, and with a deft move, flipped his hand behind his back.
She pressed him down with her knee, forcing him to kneel.
The doctor escaped, gasping for air.
The man screamed, “Let go! Bitch!”
Zhong Nian, ensuring the doctor’s safety, released him.
Liang Zhaozhao squeezed through the crowd, shouting, “What are you all staring at? Nothing to see, scatter!”
The onlookers dispersed.
She ran up to Zhong Nian. “Reporter Zhong, are you alright?”
Zhong Nian disliked sudden contact. Calmly, she withdrew her hand, pretending to adjust her hair. “I’m fine.”
Liang Zhaozhao didn’t notice her distance, smiled, and admonished the family. “This is a hospital, not your playground!”
The woman clutched her child. “Then why isn’t my child’s fever going down? You have to explain!”
Liang Zhaozhao brushed her sleeve and checked with the doctor, shivering in the corner.
“How long has the child been here?”
“Since… last night.”
“How did you prescribe the medicine?” Liang Zhaozhao mimicked his stammer.
They debated quietly. Zhong Nian stepped aside, casually observing the duty roster.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.
She looked up.
Liang Yifeng appeared, dressed in a pristine, perfectly pressed white coat. The hem fluttered in the wind. As if sensing her gaze, his pace slowed.
Three meters away, he stopped.
Time seemed to freeze. The bustling hospital world blurred around them.
Zhong Nian watched him curiously.
His hand holding his phone was slick with cold sweat.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Seeing she was safe, his tension eased slightly.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
She nodded. He remained in place.
Their interactions were strange: silent, calm, with neither wanting to speak.
No words. No awkwardness.
She finally asked, “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, almost.”
“That’s good.”
Her gentle, clear features looked especially beautiful as she lowered her gaze.
His Adam’s apple moved. “Zhong Nian.”
“Mm.” She lifted her head, a faint smile on her lips.
Liang Yifeng stepped forward, inclined his head to her, about to speak—then suddenly changed.
He grabbed her, pulling her into his chest.
The world spun. Zhong Nian landed in a warm embrace. His arms locked around her, pressing her against the wall. Her shoulder blades struck the cold wall; she stifled a groan.
A crisp thud sounded in her ear.
She looked up in panic. The man who had caused the earlier scene swung a wooden stick at Liang Yifeng’s neck. His face twisted, triumphant.
Zhong Nian watched Liang Yifeng, who clutched his neck with one hand, face as pale as paper. Lips colorless, brows furrowed, muffled groans escaping between clenched teeth.
She ignored her own numb back and called out, “Liang Yifeng?!”
He smiled faintly, sweat on his forehead.
“Are you okay? Look at me!” she urged.
He grit his teeth, shook his head, and managed a grim smile. “I’m fine.”
She didn’t believe him. “We’re going to the doctor. Now.”
“—No rush.” His face was pale.
He placed her safely against the wall, then turned to the man with the stick.
A deadly smile spread across his face.
Slowly, deliberately, he unbuttoned his coat.
One… two… three…
Like a movie in slow motion, he removed it, laying it neatly on a nearby chair.
With the coat gone, his entire expression transformed. His eyes were ruthless, radiating murderous intent. Lips pressed tightly, teeth clenched—he looked ready to kill.
“Liang Yifeng.” A voice called from behind.
His wrist was grabbed; her skin was warm, fiery wherever it touched his.
He stopped, turning to her.
Zhong Nian tilted her head, smiling. “Calm down.”
He spoke softly, rationally. “I am calm.”
This was a calm he’d never known, reason overriding the furious shouts in his body:
—Kill him.
The man had nearly struck someone he barely dared to think of harshly.
At this moment, Liang Yifeng only wanted to kill him.
He smiled again—a cold, deadly smile.
Zhong Nian’s pupils contracted. Instinctively, she pulled him closer into her embrace.
Thud—
The stick struck his back, and Zhong Nian’s wrist.
Her face went pale; her hand trembled from the pain.
Security arrived, restraining the man.
Liang Yifeng’s fury flared, but seeing her pain, it felt like countless needles piercing him.
“Zhong… Nian.”
Her hands shook. She pushed him aside, stepping forward.
The restrained man glared, defiant.
Zhong Nian said firmly, “Call the police.”
Security hesitated.
Liang Zhaozhao arrived, assessing the situation. She held a trembling nurse nearby and said quickly, “No police!”
Zhong Nian turned to her, resolute. “I said, call the police.”
Liang Zhaozhao stomped her feet. “But it’s our hospital—this will look bad!”
Zhong Nian lowered her gaze. “Sorry.”
Then, she picked up her phone and dialed 110.
Liang Zhaozhao: “…”
“!!!”
She tried to snatch the phone. Hands grabbed hers; it was tossed far away.
Liang Zhaozhao shouted, “Liang Yifeng! This will reflect badly on the hospital!”
A nurse whispered, “Dr. Liang was hit twice on the back.”
Liang Zhaozhao’s eyes widened. “What?! I’ll kill him!”
Zhong Nian ignored her, walking to Liang Yifeng.
His tense back relaxed. Hands dropped. The phone fell.
She looked at him. “Your back?”
He smiled faintly. “It’s nothing.”
Slowly, he bent forward. Evening sunlight slanted through the window, casting golden patterns across the floor. He stood at the edge of the light, leaning toward her, merging into the shadows.
He blocked most of the light, eyes scanning from her brows down to her right hand at her side.
He noticed it trembling uncontrollably. Deep in his gaze, he said after a long pause, “No need to protect me.”
Her lips twitched weakly. “I can’t control it.”
He felt as if the world had shifted, like surviving countless disasters only to awaken from a dream.
“Coincidence,” he said.
Zhong Nian didn’t understand.
He cupped her trembling hand; the wrist was visibly swelling, warm to the touch—like fire consuming his heart.
Coincidence… I protect you, unconsciously.
From the first time I saw you, I could no longer control myself.
Love would persist until death.