Part One: Nothing Was Wrong
“For years, he searched for what was broken.
This time, he prayed to find nothing at all.”
The Lu family’s private medical room had not changed.
Yu Mingyue noticed it the moment she stepped inside.
The pale walls.
The spotless cabinets.
The examination bed beside the window.
The faint scent of disinfectant lingering in the air.
Even the small wooden chair in the corner remained where it had always been.
She used to sit there while Gu Mingzhe prepared her medicine.
Sometimes he would explain every tablet carefully.
Other times, when she was too tired to listen, he simply placed the medicine in her palm and waited until she swallowed it.
Yu Mingyue stood quietly near the door.
For one brief moment, the healthy heart inside her chest seemed to remember pain that no longer existed.
Beside her, Xiao Bai floated in a slow circle.
“This room contains a significant amount of medical equipment.”
Yu Mingyue glanced at him.
“That is usually what medical rooms contain.”
“I am making an observation.”
“It was a very impressive observation.”
Xiao Bai narrowed his golden eyes.
Before he could defend himself, Gu Mingzhe entered carrying a tablet and a thick folder.
He had changed into a white coat.
The sight made Yu Mingyue smile.
“You really became a doctor.”
Gu Mingzhe stopped.
His fingers tightened slightly around the folder.
“I was already studying medicine before.”
“But now you look official.”
“I was official then too.”
“You were twenty-two.”
“That does not make me unofficial.”
Yu Mingyue walked closer and examined him seriously.
The gold-rimmed glasses.
The perfectly buttoned coat.
The calm expression.
Then her gaze moved lower.
His collar was still slightly crooked from breakfast.
She reached up and fixed it again.
“There.”
Gu Mingzhe looked down at her hand.
“You corrected it earlier.”
“It moved.”
“It did not.”
“It looked lonely.”
“My collar?”
“Yes.”
Gu Mingzhe became silent.
Xiao Bai whispered,
“Host, I believe your explanation made the situation worse.”
Yu Mingyue ignored him.
Gu Mingzhe placed the folder on the desk.
His expression softened slightly.
“Sit down.”
Yu Mingyue climbed onto the examination bed without complaint.
That alone made him pause.
In the past, every examination had begun with bargaining.
One piece of candy.
Ten minutes of television.
A new novel.
Or permission to skip one bitter medicine after dinner.
Today, she simply sat there and held out her arm.
Gu Mingzhe looked at her.
“You are unusually cooperative.”
Yu Mingyue smiled.
“I want to know too.”
“Know what?”
“That I’m really healthy.”
The room became quiet.
Gu Mingzhe lowered his gaze.
Then he wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around her arm.
The machine began to inflate.
Yu Mingyue watched the numbers appear.
Her breathing remained calm.
No fear.
No discomfort.
No memory of nurses frowning at the screen.
The result appeared.
Normal.
Gu Mingzhe recorded it.
Then checked again.
The same result.
Yu Mingyue looked at him.
“Brother Mingzhe.”
“Yes?”
“How many times are you planning to repeat everything?”
“As many as necessary.”
“What determines necessity?”
“I do.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
His expression did not change.
“Hold still.”
Yu Mingyue sighed dramatically.
“Yes, Doctor Gu.”
He checked her temperature.
Normal.
Oxygen saturation.
Normal.
Heart rate.
Normal.
He listened to her breathing.
Clear.
Then he placed the stethoscope against her chest.
The room became silent.
Yu Mingyue looked down at the top of his head.
Gu Mingzhe did not move.
The steady sound entered his ears.
A strong heartbeat.
Clean.
Regular.
No murmur.
No weakness.
No strain.
He shifted the stethoscope slightly.
Listened again.
Then once more.
Yu Mingyue waited patiently.
After nearly a minute, she tilted her head.
“Is my heart saying something interesting?”
Gu Mingzhe’s fingers froze.
Yu Mingyue smiled.
“You’ve been listening for a long time.”
He slowly lifted his head.
Their eyes met.
His voice was quiet.
“It sounds healthy.”
The simple sentence made something warm spread through Yu Mingyue’s chest.
She placed one hand over her heart.
“I know.”
Gu Mingzhe looked at her.
For years, he had wanted to say those words.
Not stable.
Not improving.
Not temporarily safe.
Healthy.
He removed the stethoscope.
“We still need imaging and blood tests.”
Yu Mingyue’s smile stiffened.
“Blood tests?”
“Yes.”
Xiao Bai immediately straightened.
“Host.”
She looked toward him.
He lowered his voice.
“Your reconstructed body may contain traces of Main God energy.”
Yu Mingyue’s fingers curled against the edge of the bed.
“How much?”
“Minimal.”
“That word has never comforted me.”
“It should be undetectable by ordinary equipment.”
Yu Mingyue glanced around the room.
The machines did not look ordinary.
Gu Mingzhe noticed the movement of her eyes.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“You are twisting your sleeve.”
Yu Mingyue immediately released it.
“I’m thinking.”
“About?”
“Whether blood is truly necessary.”
“It is.”
“I feel healthy.”
“I know.”
“You just said my heart sounds healthy.”
“I did.”
“Then perhaps we can trust my heart.”
“No.”
Yu Mingyue stared at him.
Gu Mingzhe prepared the collection tubes.
“We need a complete baseline.”
“A small baseline?”
“A complete one.”
“One tube?”
“Six.”
Yu Mingyue looked offended.
“Do you intend to leave any blood inside me?”
Gu Mingzhe’s lips almost curved.
“You have enough.”
“How do you know?”
“I am a doctor.”
“That answer is becoming suspiciously convenient.”
He cleaned the inside of her elbow.
The familiar scent of alcohol reached her.
For the first time since returning, Yu Mingyue felt a flicker of her old unease.
Not fear of pain.
Fear of being discovered.
Xiao Bai floated closer.
“Remain calm.”
“I am calm.”
“Your heart rate increased.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“The needle’s.”
“Yours.”
Gu Mingzhe looked up.
“Who are you speaking to?”
Yu Mingyue froze.
Xiao Bai froze too.
She smiled slowly.
“Myself.”
“You called yourself ‘you.'”
“I contain many opinions.”
Gu Mingzhe stared at her.
Yu Mingyue extended her arm more firmly.
“Let’s begin.”
His gaze lingered on her face.
But he did not press.
The needle entered.
Yu Mingyue barely flinched.
Dark red blood flowed into the first tube.
Then the second.
Xiao Bai watched the collection with increasing worry.
“Energy concentration remains stable.”
Yu Mingyue silently asked,
“Can you hide it?”
“I can suppress the signal temporarily.”
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?”
“You did not ask.”
She nearly moved.
Gu Mingzhe steadied her arm.
“Do not move.”
Yu Mingyue glared at Xiao Bai.
He looked away.
Six tubes later, Gu Mingzhe removed the needle and pressed cotton against the small puncture.
Yu Mingyue looked at the blood samples.
“They look ordinary.”
Gu Mingzhe capped the final tube.
“They are blood.”
“That was my professional observation.”
He paused.
Then looked at her.
For one second, she saw amusement in his eyes.
Very faint.
But real.
Yu Mingyue smiled triumphantly.
“I made you laugh.”
“You did not.”
“Your eyes did.”
“My eyes do not laugh.”
“They just did.”
Gu Mingzhe turned away before she could continue.
The examination lasted more than two hours.
Heart scan.
Lung function.
Blood work.
Neurological testing.
Muscle strength.
Reflexes.
Bone density.
Yu Mingyue endured all of it.
At first patiently.
Then less patiently.
By the time Gu Mingzhe asked her to walk on a treadmill, she stared at him as though he had betrayed her.
“I thought this was a medical examination.”
“It is.”
“This feels like punishment.”
“We need to observe your heart under exertion.”
“I have already walked today.”
“You came downstairs.”
“That was exertion.”
Gu Mingzhe adjusted the speed.
“Begin.”
Yu Mingyue stepped onto the treadmill.
It started slowly.
She walked.
Then faster.
Then faster still.
Her breathing deepened.
But there was no pain.
No dizziness.
No burning in her chest.
Gu Mingzhe watched every reading.
Yu Mingyue glanced at the screen.
“How am I doing?”
“Continue.”
“That sounds unfriendly.”
“Continue.”
She increased her pace.
Soon she was jogging.
A breathless laugh escaped her lips.
She was running.
Not in a dream.
Not inside the white space.
Here.
In her own body.
Her feet struck the treadmill rhythmically.
Her hair moved around her shoulders.
Her lungs filled with air.
Her heart beat faster.
But it did not fail her.
Yu Mingyue laughed again.
This time louder.
Gu Mingzhe looked up from the monitor.
She was smiling.
Not the gentle smile she used to comfort others.
Not the faint smile she wore before an operation.
A bright, careless smile.
The smile of a girl discovering what her body could do.
“Brother Mingzhe!”
He remained still.
“I’m running!”
Her voice filled the room.
“I can really run!”
Gu Mingzhe’s vision blurred.
He looked down immediately.
The numbers remained normal.
Perfectly normal.
Yu Mingyue kept running.
Xiao Bai flew beside the treadmill, struggling to keep pace.
“Host, maintain moderation!”
“I’m fine!”
“You’ve been back for less than two days!”
“I missed eighteen years of running!”
“That is not how exercise accumulation works!”
Yu Mingyue laughed until her breathing became uneven.
Only then did Gu Mingzhe slow the machine.
She stepped off.
Her cheeks were pink.
Her breathing was faster.
But she was standing.
Healthy.
Happy.
Alive.
Gu Mingzhe handed her a towel.
Yu Mingyue wiped her face.
“How was it?”
He looked at the screen.
“Normal.”
She smiled.
“Only normal?”
“Very good.”
“Better.”
Yu Mingyue took the bottle of water he offered.
Gu Mingzhe watched her drink.
For years, he had imagined saving her.
He had imagined finding the perfect treatment.
Repairing her heart.
Giving her back every ordinary thing illness had taken.
He had failed.
Yet now she stood before him with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, complaining that “normal” was not enough praise.
Gu Mingzhe turned away.
“Rest while I review the results.”
Yu Mingyue nodded.
She sat on the edge of the examination bed, swinging her legs lightly.
Xiao Bai landed beside her.
“You nearly exceeded the recommended exercise level.”
“I was jogging.”
“You were celebrating aggressively.”
“That is not a medical term.”
“It should be.”
Across the room, Gu Mingzhe opened the first report.
Normal.
Then the next.
Normal.
Heart structure.
Healthy.
Lung capacity.
Excellent.
Blood oxygen.
Normal.
Muscle response.
Normal.
No congenital defect.
No surgical damage.
No sign that the girl before him had once spent eighteen years fighting for every breath.
Gu Mingzhe read the results again.
Then a third time.
Yu Mingyue watched him.
His back remained straight.
His expression remained calm.
But the hand holding the tablet had begun to tremble.
“Brother Mingzhe?”
He did not answer.
He opened another page.
Then another.
Nothing was wrong.
Nothing.
The word should have been ordinary.
Instead, it felt impossible.
Nothing was wrong with her heart.
Nothing was wrong with her lungs.
Nothing was wrong with her body.
There was nothing to treat.
Nothing to repair.
Nothing waiting to steal her away.
Gu Mingzhe slowly placed the tablet on the desk.
He removed his glasses.
Cleaned them once.
Then again.
His movements became less steady.
Yu Mingyue climbed down from the bed.
She walked toward him.
“Brother Mingzhe.”
He kept his gaze lowered.
“The results are incomplete.”
“You read all of them.”
“Some tests need to be repeated.”
“Why?”
“To confirm accuracy.”
Yu Mingyue looked at the perfectly organized reports.
Then at his trembling fingers.
She understood.
He did not doubt the machines.
He was afraid to believe them.
Yu Mingyue gently took the glasses from his hand.
Gu Mingzhe finally looked at her.
His eyes were red.
She smiled.
“What did the report say?”
He remained silent.
Yu Mingyue waited.
After several seconds, his lips moved.
“Your heart is healthy.”
Her smile deepened.
“And?”
“Your lungs are healthy.”
“And?”
“Your blood work is normal.”
“And?”
Gu Mingzhe’s voice became unsteady.
“Everything is normal.”
Yu Mingyue placed his glasses carefully on the desk.
Then she reached forward and hugged him.
Gu Mingzhe froze.
Her arms wrapped around him gently.
He could feel her heartbeat against his chest.
Strong.
Steady.
Alive.
“You finally got your perfect report,” she whispered.
Gu Mingzhe’s hands remained at his sides.
For one second.
Two.
Then they closed around her.
Too tightly.
Yu Mingyue felt his shoulders tremble.
He lowered his head against her hair.
No sound escaped him.
But warm tears fell onto her shoulder.
Yu Mingyue did not speak again.
She simply held him.
For eight years, Gu Mingzhe had searched for a cure that did not exist.
Today, for the first time, there was nothing left for him to fix.
And in the quiet medical room, surrounded by perfect results, one doctor finally allowed himself to grieve for the girl he had failed to save—
and welcome the healthy girl who had returned.