The pain in Gu Nianyi’s lower abdomen came in erratic waves, with no pattern whatsoever.
Compared to menstrual cramps, it wasn’t all that bad—still within what she could bear.
In those few short minutes, Lu Jin’an had peeled an entire bag of chestnuts.
He had little interest in food itself; it was merely sustenance to him.
But he enjoyed watching Gu Nianyi eat.
Just like right now.
When she savored something delicious, her eyes curved into happy crescents, sparkling like a sky full of stars.
Truth be told, Gu Nianyi was easy to please.
“Very sweet,” she murmured.
Soft and chewy, with a delicate sweetness that wrapped around her tongue, lingering thread by thread.
Every chestnut she ate had been neatly shelled, each one a plump, golden orb like a tiny sun.
It was such a simple gesture, yet one many partners wouldn’t bother with.
And Lu Jin’an had done far more than that. How could she not be touched?
But that was as far as it could go.
Between them, the one thing they shouldn’t discuss was feelings.
Feelings led to arguments, hysteria, and bitter endings.
Better to maintain their current rhythm.
Gu Nianyi’s lower abdomen cramped again. She shielded it with her bag and rubbed gently with her palm, but the pain didn’t ease.
Pretending all was well, she said, “Dr. Lu, let’s head back.”
Lu Jin’an replied, “Sure.”
He hadn’t noticed anything unusual about her.
After walking all day, they skipped public transit for the return trip. Lu Jin’an had somehow summoned a private car; the driver clearly knew him.
Gu Nianyi slid into the back seat, and to her surprise, Lu Jin’an didn’t take the front—he joined her in the rear.
With that, the pain vanished.
She pressed her abdomen twice. Nothing.
It was as if it had never happened, merely her imagination.
The knot of worry in her chest loosened slightly.
Yet when Gu Nianyi returned to the hotel, the abdominal pain struck again.
The harsher reality was that her period still hadn’t ended. It had been ten days already, accompanied by brown discharge.
It was her first time dealing with something like this. Panicking, she holed up in the bathroom and searched online for possible causes.
The results were all over the place: endometrial polyps, uterine fibroids, hormonal imbalances, and more.
Ovarian cysts could cause prolonged bleeding too.
She gnawed at her thumbnail, debating an online consultation.
Just then, a message from Ming Yue popped up: 【Baby, pick some photos. Yi Yi, having way too much fun to miss South City.】
Ming Yue had planned to do this after Gu Nianyi got back to South City, but the photographer who handled the shooting and editing was heading abroad the next day and wouldn’t return for half a month.
Remote control it was.
【I already weeded out the ones with bad expressions.】
Ming Yue pivoted: 【But I saved them as a sticker pack.】
The three messages in a row yanked Gu Nianyi temporarily from the depths of her anxiety. She washed her hands and headed back to the living room.
Gu Nianyi shot back: 【Ming Yue, delete them right now, or I’ll sneak up and take you out when I get back to South City.】
She could already picture Ming Yue bombarding her with those stickers later.
The girl’s mood swing—from tense to relaxed—was too stark for Lu Jin’an to miss.
Only Ming Yue could put her so at ease. No one else.
Forget chatting with Ming Yue—even talking to Lu Jinxuan was more fun and relaxing than being around him.
With him, she was always on edge.
Gu Nianyi, oblivious to Lu Jin’an’s thoughts or actions, retreated to her room afterward. The two of them went about their separate evenings.
She was wholly focused on the computer screen across from her in the video call.
The first round of selections was easy to narrow down, but the second proved trickier.
Not wanting to shell out extra cash, she dithered over two shots from the same outfit, each with its own appeal.
Lu Jin’an lounged on the far end of the sofa, legs crossed, and drawled casually, “Just pick both.”
He couldn’t be blamed—his vision was 20/20.
Besides, her phone screen had lingered on that image for ages.
“Dr. Lu!”
Gu Nianyi shot him a sideways glare, slapped a hand over the screen, and twisted it away.
Ming Yue typed: “Is Dr. Lu picking them with you?”
Gu Nianyi: “No, he just walked by.”
She agonized over those two photos for a full ten minutes. Ming Yue grew impatient. “Still deciding? If you can’t choose, just get both.”
“No need. It’s not worth it.”
Refined edits ran 120 yuan apiece, and the differences were subtle.
Lu Jin’an offered, “If you have to pick one, I’d go with the first.”
The photos looked similar at first glance, but the initial one had caught his eye differently.
The woman’s face was slightly lowered, her gaze on the ground, with a few stray strands of hair drifting across it.
Sunlight kissed her updo, casting a cool, ethereal glow.
“Oh.” Gu Nianyi harbored doubts about his taste.
Men and women saw beauty so differently, after all.
In the end, she glanced once more and selected the one he’d suggested.
Without letting him know.
After hanging up, Lu Jin’an raised his deep gaze to her. “Taken recently?”
Gu Nianyi stood. “Dr. Lu, I don’t need to report something like that to you, do I?”
“No, you don’t. But I want to know.”
The man rose as well, his tall frame eclipsing the light.
She found herself immersed in his cool aura. “I had them done while Dr. Lu was out of the house.”
Lu Jin’an’s lips curved faintly. “So it wasn’t just sneaking drinks.”
Gu Nianyi pursed her lips. “I drank them right out in the open. You saw it all on the cameras.”
“I only saw part of it. The ones from upstairs were hidden away.”
When Lu Jin’an had gotten home that day, he’d checked the liquor cabinet. Quite a few bottles were missing.
They were gifts from friends, unopened, so it was obvious.
Gu Nianyi skirted the small tea table. “So what if I did? You settling scores after the fact?”
“No scores to settle. Drinking at bars is dangerous. If you want some, call me along. Though you should still drink less.”
“Got it, Dr. Lu. Good night.”
Neither noticed how their banter had shifted—edging toward something improper.
Lu Jin’an stared at the firmly shut white door. Another night in separate beds?
Habits formed and broke so easily.
He’d slept alone for over twenty years, only for these past few months of marriage to upend it all.
Gu Nianyi lay on her side in bed, clutching a pillow as she chatted with Ming Yue.
Ming Yue: 【Baby, I’ve got a question that’s been bugging me. You two sleep in the same bed every night—nothing ever happens? Your self-control is solid, but he’s a guy.】
For adults sharing a bed, sex was an inevitable topic.
She wasn’t prying into her friend’s privacy—just worried Gu Nianyi might hide any bad news.
Gu Nianyi: 【Nothing at all.】
Even on the bed, Lu Jin’an wasn’t as close as she was to her stuffed toys. They shared a tacit harmony.
Neither crossed the line.
Even accidental brushes were smoothly ignored.
Ming Yue: 【Then he’s 99% not up to it. Can’t think of another explanation.】
Gu Nianyi: 【Maybe it’s just… no feelings involved.】
Ming Yue: 【No feelings doesn’t mean no needs.】
To be realistic, physiological urges were normal. Using a perfectly legal partner was hardly reprehensible.
She didn’t want to paint Lu Jin’an as a villain; she’d simply seen too much of humanity’s darker side.
Gu Nianyi: 【It doesn’t matter. I don’t want too many entanglements.】
If Lu Jin’an brought it up, she’d go along—civil law outlined marital duties, after all.
Ming Yue: 【I’m just rambling. Don’t overthink it.】
She knew Ming Yue meant well, fretting over her, afraid she’d get hurt and trapped.
After nearly thirty thousand steps that day, Gu Nianyi drifted off without realizing it.
In her haze, she thought she heard the door. Forcing her eyes open, she saw Lu Jin’an silhouetted against the light.
She bolted upright in fright, stammering, “Dr. Lu? What’s wrong?”
She yanked the blanket over herself, eyes wide, face a mask of panic.
Terrified it might lead to a repeat of that morning.
Instead, Lu Jin’an lifted the covers and slid right in. “Can’t sleep. Mind if I borrow you?”
He hadn’t gotten a full night’s rest since arriving in North City.
Especially last night—he hadn’t dozed off until the sky began to lighten.
Something always felt missing.
Gu Nianyi blinked in confusion. “I’m not a sleeping pill.”
“You are.”
He plucked the pillow from her arms and tucked it under his head.
His steady breaths brushed her ear. He was out like a light in seconds. Insomnia, really?
Gu Nianyi didn’t buy it.
Lu Jin’an had come solely to sleep—nothing more.
No boundary crossed.
The epitome of a gentleman.
With his “sleeping pill,” he slumbered peacefully.
Gu Nianyi, however, plunged into a nightmare. She dreamed of a cancer diagnosis.
Clutching the report, she sat on the steps outside the outpatient clinic entrance, staring blankly at the azure sky.
What perfect weather—bright sun, gentle breeze, peak autumn bliss.
Everything ideal.
Except the paper in her hand.
She’d once resented her very existence, but now, faced with this, she desperately wanted to live.
She worried for Ming Yue left alone, fretted over her grandparents.
But she’d never see them again.
She felt like a bystander, watching the girl squat on the ground before her.
Gu Nianyi approached and patted her shoulder in comfort, but her hand passed through nothing.
She could only watch as the girl grieved and wept.
Powerless.
All she could do was stay silently by her side—or by herself.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, forming rivulets. Gu Nianyi told herself that life was so bitter—don’t bother coming back next time.
Suddenly, the sound of sobbing by his ear jolted Lu Jin’an awake. The small nightlight at the foot of the bed flicked on.
Gu Nianyi was curled into a ball, crying uncontrollably. Her entire body trembled as the tears flowed endlessly.
Without hesitation, Lu Jin’an pulled her into his arms, pressing her head against his chest. “Gu Nianyi, what’s wrong?” he kept murmuring.
The girl just cried, her choked sobs piercing straight to his heart. Her tears soaked through his pajama shirt.
Lu Jin’an gently patted her shoulder blades, trying to offer some comfort. “Cry it out. I’m here.”
Exhausted from weeping, Gu Nianyi finally drifted into a deep sleep.
Lu Jin’an grabbed some tissues from the bedside table and tenderly wiped the tears from her face.
He got up and changed into a fresh set of pajamas.
The girl’s brows were still furrowed, as if trapped in a nightmare.
Lu Jin’an lifted his hand and smoothed her forehead. “Everything will pass.”
The only thing that could make her this upset was family.
“Someone will always put you first.”
In the early morning, a thin mist shrouded North City.
Gu Nianyi woke to find herself nestled in Lu Jin’an’s arms. His arm wrapped fully around her.
How had this happened?
They had gone to bed peacefully, but overnight, boundaries had blurred.
“You’re awake.”
Lu Jin’an’s voice was hoarse, laced with faint weariness.
Gu Nianyi ducked her head. “What happened? Did I… make the first move?”
Had she blacked out?
Medicine had explanations for this—people in extreme grief sometimes selectively forgot things.
Lu Jin’an didn’t want her dwelling on the painful memories. “Yeah, you did.”
Better to distract her with something else.
Gu Nianyi stepped back a little, embarrassed. “Sorry, I used you as a pillow again.”
First time was awkward, second time felt familiar.
She wasn’t startled into letting go anymore.
Lu Jin’an’s thin lips curved slightly. “You’re my sleeping pill. We’re even.”
Gu Nianyi: “…”
The two of them brushed their teeth and washed up in the bathroom, one after the other.
Gu Nianyi stared at her reflection in the mirror—her eyes were swollen like walnuts, sore and puffy.
What on earth had happened?
She turned to the only witness. “Dr. Lu, did I cry last night?”
That would explain why he had held her.
Lu Jin’an was packing his luggage. “You remember?”
Gu Nianyi shook her head. “No.”
A vague image lingered deep in her mind, but she just couldn’t grasp it.
Lu Jin’an replied, “Then don’t. Your brain’s protecting you.”
His reasoning convinced her.
They were heading back to South City today, and Gu Nianyi had no time to dwell on yesterday.
“Mm-hmm.”
Once back in South City, Lu Jin’an faced a backlog of work and surgeries from his absence. He grew even busier.
“I’ll be swamped these next couple of days—late nights. Go to bed early; don’t wait up.”
Gu Nianyi froze. She hadn’t planned to wait anyway. This had been their routine since marriage; she was used to it.
“Got it. Take care, Dr. Lu.”
They kept up the polite facade.
After Lu Jin’an left, Gu Nianyi started booking an appointment.
Expert slots at the Municipal Hospital were scarce, especially for renowned specialists who rarely scheduled them.
Luckily, it was still holiday season.
Morning slots were available.
She didn’t trust other hospitals—in South City, everyone preferred the Municipal Hospital for treatment.
Plus, she was heading to gynecology outpatient. Lu Jin’an spent most of his time in the Cardiovascular Surgery Inpatient Department; they shouldn’t cross paths.
Gu Nianyi secured her slot and sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, lost in a jumble of thoughts.
It felt like she was marching to the execution ground for a death sentence.
Hospitals terrified her most.
But now she had no choice. Maybe it was nothing; she was just scaring herself.
Gu Nianyi hailed a cab to the hospital.
Many colleagues greeted Lu Jin’an’s return with relief—their savior was back.
Zhou Ziyu whooped the loudest.
Heavens knew how he’d survived this stretch.
“Dr. Lu! I waited forever, like a kid wishing on stars and moon, and you’re finally back. I missed you so much.”
Lu Jin’an lifted his gaze. “You missed the souvenirs I brought.”
Zhou Ziyu: “You see right through me, but we’re still bros.”
On the third floor of the adjacent outpatient building, in gynecology and obstetrics, Gu Nianyi checked in successfully and sat in the waiting hall.
Just in case, she’d worn a mask.
Most people had friends, family, boyfriends, or husbands with them. A few, like her, were alone.
She suddenly recalled those online “loneliness levels.” The ninth was going to the doctor solo; the highest was undergoing surgery alone.
She’d unlocked level nine.
Soon, her name flashed on the big screen. Her heart raced with anxiety; each step felt like a heavy stomp on her chest.
The tension ratcheted up again.
The doctor asked routinely, “What’s bothering you?”
Gu Nianyi replied, “My period won’t stop, and my lower abdomen hurts a bit.”
“Married?”
“Yes.”
Remembering how she’d once accompanied Ming Yue for endocrine issues, Gu Nianyi added quickly, “But no sex life yet. We just got married.”
The doctor had her lie on the exam bed nearby and pressed on her lower abdomen. “Here? Or here?”
“Pay at the self-service machine. Ultrasound on the third floor. If you can’t get it this morning, I’ll be here this afternoon.”
“Okay, thank you, Doctor.”
With the holiday, only a few ultrasound rooms were open. Gu Nianyi didn’t get hers until noon.
By the time she had the results, the doctor had clocked out.
Gu Nianyi sat anxiously, a sword of Damocles hanging over her head, not knowing when it would fall.
Perched on a metal chair, she clutched the thin sheet of paper. She couldn’t make sense of the numbers—long diameter, anteroposterior diameter, blood flow signals, echoes…
So many technical terms.
At the bottom, the ultrasound note: Possible uterine fibroids. Correlate with clinical findings.
In the afternoon, the doctor glanced at the ultrasound report. “Uterine fibroids, 10 cm—that’s pretty big. Prep for surgery ASAP. I’ll prescribe some meds for now. Come in once your period finishes; the nurses will brief you.”
The final verdict was in.
The executioner’s blade had fallen on her neck.
“Okay, thank you, Doctor.”
Gu Nianyi felt numb, forced to accept the reality.
She sat on the long bench for a while, wiped the tears from her eyes, and walked to the nurses’ station.