"Dr. Ye, I hope you...
Inside the restroom, sitting on the toilet.
Song Guanyu's chest heaved slightly. She had never encountered such a scene in her life. The passionate kiss between Bai Jingyi and Shu Wen in her mind made her face flush. Now she curled up into a small ball on the toilet seat, resting her cheeks on her hands, feeling troubled.
After much thought, she still held a grudge over Ye Yansheng not giving her a French kiss that morning. The flesh of her face was squeezed into a lump by her hands.
Another day with an empty head, stingy guy!
At that moment, Ye Yansheng, who had just arrived at the hospital outpatient building, stopped his hurried steps and sneezed abruptly. A passing nurse saw him and covered her mouth with a smile.
"Dr. Ye, good morning. Are you catching a cold?" She was about to take a tissue from her pocket to hand to him, but he raised his hand to refuse. He said thank you, no need, I have my own.
Then he quickly stepped onto the elevator, leaving the nurse bewildered.
The nurse, who had a crush on him, stood still, suddenly a flash of thought crossing her mind—she seemed to have seen a ring on Dr. Ye's finger, on his ring finger.
As soon as Ye Yansheng arrived, he hurried to the changing room to change into special slippers, put on a face mask and cap, donned the scrub suit, quickly disinfected, and entered the operating room.
As the door opened, Ye Yansheng put on the sterile surgical gown. The circulating nurse helped tie the back straps. Once everything was ready, he approached the operating table.
The nurse handed him gloves, and he put them on quickly.
"What's the situation?"
"Car accident. The patient's thigh was directly crushed. The muscles, blood vessels, and nerves are all destroyed. The bone is fractured but too fragmented to reattach."
"Amputation is necessary." Ye Yansheng blurted out quickly and decisively. The others were silent.
Ye Yansheng looked up, his gaze chilling. "Notify the family to sign the surgical consent form immediately. If we try to save the leg, it will still necrose and become infected. In the end, they'll lose their life. What's the point of saving the leg then?"
Ye Yansheng couldn't leave, so he had to send his assistant to negotiate. He stared intently at the monitor. Time passed slowly, sweat beads forming on his temples. If they waited any longer, it would be too late. The patient's vital signs had already started to fluctuate.
Holding his breath and concentrating, he said calmly, "We can wait at most another minute."
"Dr. Ye!" everyone exclaimed. The family hadn't authorized the signature yet. If a medical accident occurred, it would jeopardize his entire career.
Just as the standoff continued, the negotiator returned quickly, informing that the family had signed.
Ye Yansheng let out a light breath, steady and calm. "Prepare to begin."
In the changing room, inside the cabinet where Ye Yansheng stored his clothes, a vibration sounded, but no one answered.
Back at the recording studio, Song Guanyu, who had been waiting to be called for recording, suddenly remembered something. The worry on her face instantly vanished, replaced by joy. She eagerly took out her phone from her pocket to see if Ye Yansheng had replied.
The cold light of the screen shone on her cheeks. She pouted—no reply.
Her finger lingered on the chat page for a while, then she eventually sent a 'cat peeking' emoji from her private collection. After waiting another ten minutes with no response, she was about to press the voice message button to interrogate him about the forehead kiss that morning.
Suddenly, his anxious appearance that morning flashed in her mind, still vivid. Her finger paused. She felt a subtle worry for him. She wondered how things were on his end—whether it was a patient issue or something tricky. He must be busy now, which was why he hadn't replied to her message.
Staring at the contact name for a long time, Song Guanyu muttered to herself. Her fingertip lightly pressed on the six characters of 'Dr. Ye, Nagger,' tapping the screen six times in sequence.
She thought to herself: Even though my life is a mess, I'm considerate. Dr. Ye, you've hit the jackpot.
A message suddenly came on her phone. She saw it was from Senior Brother Bai, telling her she could come over.
Song Guanyu turned off the screen, stood up, and left the restroom. She went to the handwashing area. The sound of water flowed out. She pressed two pumps of hand soap from the dispenser and meticulously washed her hands, inside and out.
In the mirror, Song Guanyu appeared with her head lowered, looking obedient and serious.
Her hands were covered in dense bubbles, reaching between her fingers. Suddenly, she recalled the first night she cohabited with Ye Yansheng.
After she had eaten the milk tablet, he had grabbed her and taken her straight to the bathroom. With a calm expression, he turned on the tap in the sink, placed her hands under the running water to wet them, dispensed two pumps of hand soap, and rubbed it onto her hands.
His hands also got wet. In the process, their fingers briefly intertwined. With the slippery foam, it felt oddly intimate.
In that moment, something seemed to stir in her heart, carrying a certain softness.
Back then, Song Guanyu's gaze fell on the mirror. Ye Yansheng's face was serious. He stood behind her, bending down considerately. She leaned against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat pulsing against her back, in sync with her own heartbeat. Steady and strong. His broad palms were intimately pressed against her hands, washing them carefully for her.
Unaccustomed to being asked to wash her hands this way, Song Guanyu lowered her head slightly in his arms, blushing, not daring to look at him again. Her back, stimulated by his strong heartbeat, inexplicably broke into a sweat.
He gently rubbed from the back of her hand to her palm, then to her knuckles and fingertips, even cleaning between her fingers meticulously.
The bathroom light that night was just like now—amber, bright, warm as water, making one dizzy.
However, Song Guanyu wasn't sure whether it was the gentle, handsome image of him in the mirror that made her dizzy, or the 'correct demonstration of careful handwashing' he explained afterward. Subconsciously, she believed it was the latter.
When she was a child, she had dreamed of becoming a doctor, but God thought her talent should take another path to maximize its effect—creating beautiful melodies was the path Song Guanyu should take.
The man's voice continued in her ear.
Low, magnetic, with a gentle and calm pace. She felt dazed, thinking it could rival the hosts on TV shows, even more magical than professional hosts.
His voice sounded again: "Many bacteria remain on your hands every day. You just ate a milk tablet with your hands, leaving food residues. When washing hands, we need to clean thoroughly, especially the nail crevices, which are the hardest hit areas. Although we can't completely eliminate them, we can greatly reduce bacterial residue. Got it?"
Got it, Miss Song.
A ghostly voice suddenly jolted her back from her memory, startling her into looking around frantically.
The surroundings were empty, no one there—it was her imagination.
She lowered her head and looked at her hands. Song Guanyu blinked, stunned for half a second! She had actually, following Ye Yansheng's instructions in her memory, washed her hands completely according to his method.
She deeply realized that having too good a memory wasn't a good thing.
After a while, she shook her head. Forget it, forget it.