The AI could not see or interpret Lu Junran's micro-expressions through the screen; it simply continued outputting its programmed response: [We suggest you start with a small event as an entry point—for example, invite her to a meal or a drink, and casually express your views during idle chat. Remember, the most important thing is to genuinely understand her emotions from the heart, rather than merely pandering to her.]
Lu Junran could no longer read any of it. His mind was stuck on that one line: [Is she really just a junior fellow disciple?]
If not a junior female disciple, then what? Lu Junran nearly grasped that fleeting thought.
Lu Junran carried these tangled thoughts through a half-day of work, not daring to ask his junior about medical order questions again. He relied entirely on "winging it," and got scolded by the nurses in the group chat:
[Who wrote the medical orders for Bed 18? Wrong pharmacy prescribed.]
[The medication instructions for Bed 23 were changed incorrectly—IV push changed to IV drip.]
[Why were 100 doses of propofol ordered for Bed 20?]
It wasn't until noon, when it was time to eat, that Lu Junran began to lose focus, repeatedly stealing glances at Ye Wushu from the corner of his eye, waiting to see when she would get up to go to the cafeteria so he could pretend to casually follow.
Ye Wushu moved.
But he didn't need to follow—Ye Wushu came to him and said, "Senior, could you cover for me for a bit? I want to go to the cardiac ICU to check on that female patient."
Lu Junran's brain worked quickly and concluded: Opportunity!
"I'll go with you." Along with the words came his body rising from the chair.
Judging from his junior's attitude, she didn't seem angry with him, but Lu Junran suddenly noticed that their relationship felt somewhat distant.
On the way to the new surgical building, Lu Junran, just as Mr. D had taught, brought up the topic in a way that pretended to be casual but was actually quite deliberate: "I think that female patient is really too pitiful…"
The topic came abruptly, and Ye Wushu looked up in confusion: "Huh?"
Ye Wushu was not someone who liked to voice her opinions. She didn't enjoy debating, nor did she like forcing someone unrelated to her life to accept her worldview.
It seemed Mr. D's advice wasn't entirely correct.
The two walked to the door of the cardiac ICU and opened it using the code Lu Junran had learned from a senior.
To their surprise, Ge Yun was already on ECMO. The life-saving machine, worth a fortune, was running, replacing Ge Yun's heart and maintaining her systemic blood circulation. An endotracheal tube was in her mouth, connected to a ventilator, and she had fallen into a state completely unaware of the outside world.
The nurse complained to them: "This patient should have been put on ECMO long ago. We couldn't find a vein at all, and the family was still making a fuss."
Ye Wushu asked, "So how did the family agree?"
The nurse said, "Her husband didn't agree. Then her biological parents came and said their family would pay for it, and only then did he relent."
Everyone knew that without ECMO, it was a dead end. Perhaps the husband had intended to let Ge Yun fend for herself all along, but with her parents present, he couldn't make it too obvious.
Lu Junran watched Ye Wushu standing by the glass window. Instead of following Mr. D's teaching, he spoke from the heart: "Junior sister, everyone has their own fate. In the future, we'll encounter many more patients like this, and their stories will all be heartbreaking. But if you invest your emotions in every single one, you'll end up getting hurt."
He said "we."
Lu Junran was also trying to "probe" her heart: "Junior sister, do you think she became like this because of childbirth?"
Ye Wushu nodded, then shook her head: "I just think hormones are terrifying—they can make a person give up on their own life."
Lu Junran said: "For Ge Yun, she was completely unsuited for childbirth, but under the influence of multiple factors, she still made that irresponsible decision."
He said, almost without thinking: "Actually, not everyone thinks offspring are more important than a wife."
Ye Wushu felt it was a bit strange to discuss this topic with her senior fellow apprentice. The topic was too intimate; she wasn't used to discussing such matters with a member of the opposite sex.
So she changed the subject: "Senior brother, what kind of person do you think Director Zhong is?" She had only met her once, but she had heard countless legends about her.
Some said she was straightforward, adhering to her own principles and giving face to no one. Director Zhong came from a small town, attended an ordinary medical school, climbed her way up through examinations, hopped between several hospitals, and ultimately reached her current position. Her life was like the sharp scalpel in her hand—resolute and unyielding.
Before Lu Junran could answer, the family member outside the door had already blocked them: "Aren't you that doctor from the 6th floor that day?"
Lu Junran looked down—it was the patient's family member who had clashed with Teacher Wu Yue in the consultation room that day. Ge Yun's husband.
Without a second thought, he whipped off his white coat, grabbed his junior sister's hand, and ran down the stairwell.
"Stop right there!" The family member chased after them. Lu Junran caught a glint of cold metal in his peripheral vision, and his steps quickened even more. He clutched his junior sister's hand tightly, racing down flight after flight of stairs.
Ye Wushu was simply running along with Lu Junran. Her mind was completely blank, but out of trust in her senior brother, she didn't dare let go, sprinting with all her might. The last time she had exerted herself this hard was the 800-meter run in the middle school physical fitness test.
Ye Wushu kept scanning for any password-protected doors until she spotted one: "Senior brother! The door!"
There were many password doors in the hospital, but as students, they didn't have that many permissions. Lu Junran had his doubts, but he still chose to trust Ye Wushu and changed direction.
"Beep—" The door opened.
They quickly ran inside.
After catching their breath for a few moments, Ye Wushu said with a hint of smugness between gasps: "Good thing my roommate and I copied the access permissions from her card."
Lu Junran: "?" Which department?
As everyone knew, the IT department was notoriously stingy about granting permissions. Every time they rotated to a new department, students had to apply for the relevant department's access, otherwise they couldn't enter the break room or use the restroom. The IT department had three layers of review procedures, and it would take nearly a month—almost when the rotation was about to end—before the permissions were finally granted.
Ye Wushu said: "My roommate is from the anesthesiology department. I copied her card with my phone's NFC. Except for encrypted areas like the operating rooms and the ICU, I can swipe into any other door."
So it was the anesthesiology department. That explained everything.
Anesthesiologists are the earthbound spirits of the operating room. They roam throughout the hospital, finding patients' families the day before surgery to discuss and sign consent forms, which is why they have access to every door.
As for why the resident trainee also had access? Well, of course, because the department needed them to do the work.
The IT department wouldn't grant access? Sorry, but that's just the department secretary taking a stack of cards over and having all the permissions activated at once.
Lu Junran was still holding Ye Wushu's hand.
The two of them belatedly realized this at the same time and simultaneously let go.
Ye Wushu felt a bit awkward and tried to find something to talk about: "Senior, that family member just now—they weren't thinking of hurting someone, were they? Should we report it to the security department?"
But Lu Junran was still savoring the sensation of holding his junior's hand, and his heart belatedly began to race.