The clinic was empty.
Liang Yifeng placed Zhong Nian on the medical bed.
Finally, she didn’t have to walk anymore, and her feet felt much more comfortable.
She sat on the bed, wanting to thank him, but thinking about what had just happened, all words of gratitude vanished from her mind.
Liang Yifeng issued an order: “Take off your shoes.”
Zhong Nian began removing them, asking, “What exactly are you going to do?”
“Fix the problem,” he said.
Zhong Nian looked at him curiously.
Liang Yifeng retrieved gauze, alcohol, and cotton swabs from the medicine cabinet nearby.
Zhong Nian carefully peeled off her socks, one bit at a time. Only after removing her shoes did she realize how badly her heel had been rubbed.
The blisters had burst, a large patch of skin was raw, sticky moisture soaked her sock, leaving a patch of flesh exposed.
She let out a soft cry of pain.
Liang Yifeng set the supplies on the table beside the bed and sat on the bed opposite hers.
Adjusting his glasses, he said coldly, “And you’re still being stubborn?”
Zhong Nian lowered her gaze, offering no reply, quietly removing her socks completely.
Liang Yifeng handed her the alcohol and cotton swabs. “Use this to disinfect.”
She took them. One foot bent, the other resting on the bed, she bent over to treat her ankle. Her loose hair fell around her face, blocking her view.
She tried brushing it aside a few times, but it continued to fall, like summer flies buzzing around a desk lamp, trying to touch the glowing filament but never quite reaching it. Annoying, but untouchable.
“Look up.” A cool voice sounded above her, clear and calm like winter river water, deep and steady.
Without suspicion, Zhong Nian looked up.
He tidied her hair. His fingers were unpracticed, slightly awkward, brushing her neck, and she instinctively shrank back.
He didn’t dare go too far. He took a ribbon and gathered her hair, tying it in a perfect, textbook-like surgical knot.
After finishing, he realized what he had done.
Liang Yifeng… your intentions are punishable!
Zhong Nian had no idea and politely said, “Thank you.”
Liang Yifeng stared at the surgical knot, his tone laden with meaning: “You’re welcome.”
Zhong Nian focused on treating her ankle, not pondering the implication of his words.
Once both feet were cleaned, Liang Yifeng instructed her on the next steps. True to a doctor’s method, his instructions were clear, patient, and measured.
Zhong Nian quickly treated both feet.
But: “I don’t have shoes to change into.”
“Rest here first,” Liang Yifeng said. “I’ll go buy some for you.”
Zhong Nian frowned. “Too much trouble.” She pulled out her phone, scrolling her contacts. “I’ll ask the photographer nearby to get them.”
Just as she found his name, a large hand covered her phone.
The doctor’s hand was slender, the skin revealing all its natural texture, nails clean and neat, veins visible, fingertips cool, enclosing hers.
After so much contact today, Zhong Nian’s brows furrowed, lips pressed tightly.
Liang Yifeng noticed the discomfort in her eyes. Calmly, he withdrew the phone from her palm and set it aside. “I said I’ll go, Zhong Nian. Don’t you understand?” His tone was slightly impatient.
Zhong Nian sat cross-legged on the bed, and because of the height difference, she had to tilt her head up to look at him.
“Too much trouble for you,” she said.
“Too much talk,” he replied.
“…“
She was speechless, staring at his face. His eyes were emotionless, framed by gold-rimmed glasses that masked some sharpness. She thought for a moment and said, “Then… thank you for your trouble.”
Liang Yifeng set her phone on the table and walked toward the door. Suddenly, he turned back. “It’s almost lunch. What do you want to eat?”
Zhong Nian glanced at her watch. Nearly twelve.
She scrolled her phone. “I haven’t called my mom yet…”
“I already sent her a WeChat message,” he said.
Her fingers paused mid-scroll. She looked up. “You messaged my mom?”
“Yes.”
Her lashes fluttered. “What did she say?”
“She said, ‘Okay.’”
Zhong Nian nodded. “Good.”
Liang Yifeng adjusted his glasses. “What do you want to eat?”
“I don’t eat chicken. Anything else is fine.”
“Fine.”
After he left, Zhong Nian called the photographer, telling him to go first and just send the photos by email tonight. Once the arrangements were settled, she lay idly on the bed.
The clinic was empty and quiet, the only sound the rustling of leaves outside.
A breeze lifted the white curtains, making them flutter gently.
When Liang Yifeng returned, Zhong Nian had fallen asleep.
She slept well, hands clasped over her lower abdomen, eyes closed, sunlight spilling across her face, warming her gently. Fine hairs on her cheeks caught the light, her thin lips slightly parted, serene in slumber.
The clinic door was already locked.
Liang Yifeng placed the shoes he had bought on another bed, then walked to the foot of Zhong Nian’s bed. He looked down at her injured feet and, unable to resist, lightly touched them.
In her sleep, she sensed his touch and instinctively tried to move away.
But she couldn’t escape—
He was fully aware, whether it was dream or reality, always sober, intoxicated by her eyes.
She seemed to have adapted to the cool touch of his fingers, resting her heel comfortably in his palm.
Like a slow-motion scene in a movie, Liang Yifeng slowly lowered his head, placing a kiss on the top of her foot.
His lips lingered there, unmoving.
At that moment, his gaze was disturbingly intense, eyelids drooping, eyes vacant.
He slowly closed them, hands still holding her feet, careful, cherishing them a thousandfold.
·
Zhong Nian was awakened by a knock on the door.
Rubbing her eyes, she sat up, groggy and sluggish.
She heard the door open and a surprised cheer: “Liang Yifeng? Long time no see!”
He responded with a cold “Hm.”
Zhong Nian looked down and saw a pair of white Bally loafers on the floor, trendy and comfortable, unlike the shoes that had rubbed her heels. She had bought a similar pair in the UK earlier, but the square buckle left marks, so she hadn’t worn them much.
His taste seemed… decent.
She slipped on the shoes, lifting the curtain.
The two people outside chatting noticed and turned to look.
Liang Yifeng glanced at her. “Awake?”
“Mm.”
The tall man standing opposite Liang Yifeng, around 185 cm, slim and clean-featured, noticed Zhong Nian. He paused, then asked in surprise, “Isn’t this… Zhong Nian?”
Zhong Nian remembered him—he had sat behind her in school. Wang Xinkai.
She nodded politely. “Hello.”
Wang Xinkai’s gaze shifted, glancing between her and Liang Yifeng before smiling knowingly. “So… you two are together, huh?”
Zhong Nian frowned. “You might be misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?”
“Liang Yifeng and I are just friends.”
“Ah,” Wang Xinkai said, then looked at Liang Yifeng for confirmation.
Liang Yifeng pursed his lips and snorted. “Just friends.”
Wang Xinkai scratched his head apologetically. “Oh, sorry about that.”
Zhong Nian smiled gently. “It’s okay.”
He asked again, “So, what are you two doing here?”
Zhong Nian looked at her feet. “My feet hurt. Just resting a bit.”
“Oh, I see.”
Wang Xinkai was naturally outgoing, always chatting easily with everyone, even if he had no deskmate. Seeing him now, he carried the conversation alone among three people effortlessly.
Zhong Nian secretly admired that.
Outside of interviews, she didn’t talk much, especially with old classmates she hadn’t seen in years. She always felt awkward.
During the conversation, she learned Wang Xinkai was now the school doctor at their alma mater. He was married. By their age, those unmarried were rare, and those with no romantic experience rarer still.
On the ride back, Zhong Nian sat in the car quietly, feeling a tinge of melancholy.
Would she really… get married, have children, live like everyone else?
Abroad, she hadn’t felt this pressure, but returning home, the people and expectations around her pressed down. She didn’t dwell in this confusion long before clarity returned.
Emotions could sway reason, but ultimately reason would guide her life.
She thought she wouldn’t follow the crowd, probably living as she always had.
If she met the right person, a love rare in the world, she would give everything for that person.
Even if it meant dying willingly.
Love is inherently a journey of courage, without hesitation.
Suddenly, she asked, “Have you ever been in a relationship?”
The car contained only the two of them, so naturally she asked him.
Liang Yifeng’s fingers tapped the steering wheel. “No.”
Her lashes trembled. “Really?”
Someone like him… never been in love?
Zhong Nian was stunned.
After a long silence, Liang Yifeng turned to look at her.
She blinked, confused. “What?”
“You?”
She smiled faintly, eyes distant and serene. “Same as you.”
Liang Yifeng adjusted his glasses, a faint smile flickering in his eyes. “What a coincidence.”