Gu Nianyi stood in front of the nurses’ station, clutching her admission form as she asked about the precautions.
Fortunately, the nurse was gentle and patient. She answered Gu Nianyi’s questions carefully, pointing out many details that were easy to overlook.
Luckily, the gynecology nurses were a different crew from those in the cardiovascular surgery clinic. There was no risk of being recognized.
Gu Nianyi jotted everything down and hailed a cab back to her rented apartment.
It had been a while since she’d last been there, and a thin layer of dust coated the cabinets. Sunlight slanted through the window, casting a fluffy, sparkling glow like a protective shield.
Pushing stray thoughts aside, Gu Nianyi grabbed a rag and launched into a full-house deep clean.
She even meticulously scrubbed the crevices around the fridge and under the bed.
Once everything was done, she could no longer avoid facing reality.
Gu Nianyi sank onto the carpet beside the bed and pulled up her calendar. The hospitalization would last about a week, and with postoperative recovery, she’d need a full month.
Besides Ming Yue, she didn’t want anyone to know.
She didn’t want pity from others. She didn’t want anyone to see her vulnerable.
She dreaded the sympathetic glances and consoling words from familiar faces.
Most of all, she hated the thought of troubling anyone.
Sensitive and twisted—a textbook case of avoidant attachment.
But she couldn’t tell Ming Yue, either. Ming Yue would almost certainly let it slip to Xie Yunting, and Xie knowing meant Lu Jin’an would find out too.
So what excuse could she use for leave? What could she tell Lu Jin’an and Ming Yue?
She had never been good at lying.
On the first day back at work after the holiday, Gu Nianyi knocked on Cheng Fanglin’s office door. Hearing permission to enter, she stepped inside and saw Director Chen Qianxiu was there too.
Gu Nianyi stood across from the desk, head bowed, words catching in her throat.
Her fingers twisted the hem of her knitted sweater, unsure how to begin.
Cheng Fanglin said, “The director isn’t a stranger. Just spit it out.”
Gu Nianyi drew a deep breath, steeling herself. “Director Cheng, I’ve got a family emergency. I need a month’s leave.”
Even a week was a stretch to approve—let alone a month.
It was really asking a lot.
Cheng Fanglin asked, “What kind of emergency?”
“It’s not convenient to say.”
She was already prepared to resign. If they didn’t approve it, she’d just quit outright.
The office fell silent.
Chen Qianxiu shrugged indifferently. “Approved. Everyone runs into family troubles.”
Gu Nianyi offered a polite smile. “Thank you, Director.”
Once Gu Nianyi had left the office, Cheng Fanglin said in confusion, “Director, that’s a whole month.”
Chen Qianxiu took a sip of tea. “Old Cheng, Gu Nianyi’s a keeper. Don’t forget—she aced both the written exam and interview to get here. Companies were lining up for her. And which of your reports hasn’t that young lady burned the midnight oil to finish?”
He’d seen her pulling overtime himself. Their line of work served the public; they needed grounded young people like her.
If she wasn’t desperate, she wouldn’t ask.
Chen Qianxiu’s words left Cheng Fanglin with nothing to say.
He’d assumed someone in the director’s position wouldn’t notice such things, but nothing escaped his sharp eyes.
Cheng Fanglin grinned sheepishly. “You’ve got a point, sir.”
For Shen Lingyun and the others, Gu Nianyi stuck to the same story: family matters. Her colleagues knew better than to pry.
With work leave squared away, Gu Nianyi messaged Ming Yue with the excuse she’d been mulling over for two days.
【Baby, the meteorological data in Yuexi Town got damaged. They need to rebuild the station—I’m heading to the countryside for a month. Wuwuwu.】
She added a crying cat emoji.
Gu Nianyi’s palms grew slick with nervous sweat.
Good thing it wasn’t face-to-face. With how well Ming Yue knew her, the lie wouldn’t have lasted a second.
Ming Yue had no clue about the specifics of her job and bought it completely. 【Aww, Baby’s working so hard. I’ll come visit on the weekends.】
Using the same excuse, Gu Nianyi sent a trembling message to Lu Jin’an.
No face-to-face this time—no staring into those deep, dark eyes of his.
But it was far more agonizing than asking her boss. Crescent-shaped marks dug into her palm from her nails.
About an hour later, Lu Jin’an finally caught a break and replied.
【When are you leaving? I’ll drive you.】
He supported her work without question, never expecting her to sacrifice for the family.
Gu Nianyi: 【No need, no need. I’ll drive myself—it’s more convenient. I’ll let you know when I arrive safely.】
Lu Jin’an: 【Alright. Keep in touch on the road.】
Lying turned out to be easier than she’d imagined. In the span of an hour, Gu Nianyi had told three.
Two of them to the people closest to her in life.
From then on, Gu Nianyi spent her days gathering the supplies she’d need for surgery and stashing them at Moon Gazing Bay.
She also interviewed several caregivers.
In the end, she settled on one auntie, whom she called Aunt Feng.
Aunt Feng was reliable and hardworking. Most importantly, she was quiet and never asked why Gu Nianyi was handling this alone.
Aunt Feng always wore a smile, reassuring her that she’d sleep through it and wake up fine.
Admission and preoperative checks went smoothly. Now she just had to wait for the surgery.
Laparoscopic procedure: three small incisions in the abdomen, under general anesthesia.
The day before surgery, Gu Nianyi messaged Ming Yue as if nothing was wrong, complaining about spotty internet in town.
She got a few photos from an old classmate in the township and wove a story so convincing she almost believed it herself.
As for Lu Jin’an, their chats were never frequent—just the usual daily check-ins.
The woman in the next bed was a few years older, surrounded by her parents and boyfriend.
Gu Nianyi was all alone, with only Aunt Feng for company.
In moments of extreme vulnerability, envy hit especially hard.
That family was warm and upbeat. “Where’s your family?”
Family?
Gu Nianyi said, “They’re busy working out of town. They can’t make it back.”
Auntie handed her an apple. “Here, girl—an apple for peace and safety.”
“Thanks.”
Gu Nianyi spent the whole day rushing around: blood draws, CT scans, laxatives, and an enema.
It was miserable. Utterly miserable.
But she didn’t shed a single tear. The nurses praised how tough she was.
Now, in the face of this stranger’s small kindness, Gu Nianyi’s nose tingled and her eyes reddened.
For a moment, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. Maybe telling others wouldn’t be so bad.
But then she thought better of it.
After surgery, she’d look a mess: catheter in place, needing help just to use the bathroom. No privacy at all.
She couldn’t even bear the thought in front of Ming Yue—let alone Lu Jin’an.
The next day, Gu Nianyi prepared to enter the operating room.
“Don’t worry, girl. I’ll be waiting right outside.”
Aunt Feng looked at this young woman, all alone in a strange city, fallen ill with no one to accompany her. Putting herself in the girl’s shoes, she found it heartbreaking.
The preoperative nurse asked, “No family accompanying you?”
Gu Nianyi replied, “No. I can sign for myself.”
She had checked the rules: a conscious patient could sign their own consent form.
She’d unlocked the highest level of loneliness.
A solo surgery.
Gu Nianyi signed the informed consent form.
Patient name: Gu Nianyi.
Signature: Gu Nianyi.
Relationship to patient: Self.
Under full anesthesia, Gu Nianyi was wheeled into the operating room. The drugs took effect quickly, and consciousness faded to black.
Ruan Zhixu had come to visit a friend who’d been hospitalized. Two nurses brushed past her.
“Patients doing surgery alone are rare. And she’s listed as married. No friends? What about the husband? What’s the point of a guy like that?”
“Yeah, Gu Nianyi’s a pretty name. Too bad she picked the wrong man.”
“Maybe he has his reasons?”
“What could be more important than your own wife’s surgery?”
Ruan Zhixu could have sworn she heard Gu Nianyi’s name.
She called her immediately. The phone rang through to voicemail—no answer.
She dialed Lu Jin’an next, and he picked up right away. “Lu Jin’an, where’s Yi Yi?”
Lu Jin’an figured Ruan Zhixu was doing another surprise check at the house. “She’s in the countryside for a month.”
Ruan Zhixu sank onto a bench, her chest tight as she gripped the armrest. “Then why isn’t she answering calls or texts?”
“Probably busy, hasn’t seen them.”
“No. I’ll check with her friends at the Meteorological Bureau.”
“What’s going on?”
Ruan Zhixu had already hung up and was calling an old contact.
Her friend got back to her quickly. Ruan Zhixu relayed the info to Lu Jin’an. “Her boss said she took a month’s leave for a family matter—details private.”
The stories didn’t match. Lu Jin’an called Xie Yunting. “Let me talk to Ming Yue.”
He cut straight to it: had Gu Nianyi been in touch?
Ming Yue said, “Yi Yi told me she’s in the countryside for a month. She’s been sending me photos every day…”
Such punctual check-ins felt off.
Ming Yue hung up and called folks back home to check. “She hasn’t come back. Nothing’s happened with the family.”
The two compared notes and pieced it together.
They just didn’t know where Gu Nianyi was or what had happened.
Lu Jin’an shed his white coat, snatched his car keys, and looped in Ruan Zhixu. “She hasn’t even told her friends. I’ll check her apartment.”
Ruan Zhixu said, “Come down to the gynecology operating room. See if Yi Yi’s here?”
They said as much, but they were already sure.
If she wasn’t sick, there’d be no need for such elaborate deception.
The elevator stopped at every floor, too slow. Lu Jin’an bolted for the stairs instead, racing down as fast as he could and beelining for the nurses’ station.
“Dr. Lu, here for a consult?”
The gynecology nurses recognized him. Some cases required multi-department consultations.
Lu Jin’an asked, “No, is there a patient named Gu Nianyi here? The Gu from ‘care for,’ the Nian from ‘longing,’ and the Yi from one, two, three, four?”
The nurse searched the computer. “Yes, she was just wheeled into the operating room this morning.”
Lu Jin’an glanced at the patient information. The name, phone number, and ID all matched perfectly. “Thanks.”
Ruan Zhixu had watched the entire exchange. The two of them hurried to the doors of the operating room.
Other patients were undergoing surgery too, and quite a few family members had gathered in front of the doors.
Yet no one was waiting for Gu Nianyi.
Ruan Zhixu pulled Lu Jin’an aside to the window and scolded him in a hushed voice. “Lu Jin’an, is this how you take care of Yi Yi? You didn’t even know she was having surgery.
Do you only have eyes for work? You’ve never cared about Yi Yi at all. I won’t force things when it comes to your relationship—take it one step at a time. I thought you had some sense, some basic concern at least. But this is too much.”
Ruan Zhixu had it all figured out. Gu Nianyi had gotten sick and hadn’t wanted to tell her son. It had to be Lu Jin’an’s fault.
She couldn’t rely on him.
Or maybe they barely communicated at all, like total strangers. Why would she tell him anything?
Lu Jin’an leaned against the wall, his gaze gradually darkening. “It’s my fault.”
A week earlier, they had returned from North City. His work had gotten busy, and though they ran into each other occasionally, things had seemed just as they always were.
He had thought Gu Nianyi wasn’t distancing herself from him anymore.
Ruan Zhixu asked, “How long will the surgery take?”
“About three hours.”
Two hours remained.
“Go arrange a VIP room for her. A single room at minimum.”
Lu Jin’an followed the nurse’s directions to Gu Nianyi’s room and packed up her belongings.
The moment he stepped inside, he spotted her bed. There on the bedside table sat the Esther collaboration tumbler.
The aunt in the neighboring bed had sharp eyes. Guessing that he might be Gu Nianyi’s partner, she seized the opening. “That poor girl. She was running around all by herself, dealing with all the pre-op prep no matter how miserable it made her. She never shed a tear.”
Lu Jin’an knew exactly what the woman meant. It was his fault.
He hadn’t noticed anything unusual about Gu Nianyi.
Ming Yue arrived soon after.
There had only been a caregiver with her before she went in, but now her friends were here.
The group paced back and forth outside the door, no one saying a word, their hearts hanging in suspense.
The light above the operating room finally went out, and the doctor emerged. Lu Jin’an immediately stepped forward to ask about her.
“Everything went smoothly. She’s in recovery now—don’t worry.”
“Thank you, Director Yang.”
Once the observation period after surgery ended and the anesthesia began to wear off, Gu Nianyi was wheeled back to her room. She slowly opened her eyes.
When she made out the faces around her, she jumped in surprise.
A circle of people surrounded her bed.
All familiar faces: Ming Yue, Xie Yunting, Ruan Zhixu, and Lu Jin’an.
He stood on the outermost edge of the group, his expression ambiguous.
“How did you all get here?” She hadn’t had water for so long that her voice came out hoarse and faint.
She lacked the strength to speak loudly, so the others strained to make out her words.
Gu Nianyi’s left hand was hooked to an IV, while her right hand fidgeted with the bedsheet. She was tense and at a loss, clenching and releasing it in a repeating cycle.
She was afraid of being scolded, just like her parents used to do.
Ming Yue grasped her right hand, her voice thick with emotion. “To see you, of course.”
She had planned to give Gu Nianyi an earful the moment she woke up. But seeing her lying there in the hospital bed, lips cracked and face pale without a trace of color, Ming Yue couldn’t bring herself to say a harsh word. All she felt was heartache and sorrow.
Gu Nianyi turned her face to the other side. “Mom, you’re here too? What about Grandpa and Grandma?”
Ruan Zhixu patted her forehead gently. “Don’t worry. Grandpa and Grandma don’t know. Go back to sleep now. No talking—rest properly.”
Tears soon welled up in Gu Nianyi’s eyes, and she fought hard to keep them from falling.
Her body hurt even more, but this sudden wave of concern made her chest and nose ache with emotion.
Ruan Zhixu pulled out a few tissues and wiped away her tears. “No crying, good girl.”
Gu Nianyi obediently closed her eyes, her mind drifting in a haze.
Tubes snaked into her body—a urinary catheter, a drainage tube, an oxygen monitor, and a pain pump. She couldn’t move, and it hurt, hurt so badly.
She didn’t sleep soundly.
The group eventually left the room, leaving the caregiver to watch over her.
They stepped outside to discuss who would stay for the night shift.
Lu Jin’an lowered his gaze slightly. “I’ll stay. I’m a doctor, and there’ll be a caregiver too.”
“No, he’s a man. It wouldn’t be convenient.”
Ming Yue didn’t trust leaving her to strangers. She wouldn’t feel at ease if she didn’t stay herself.
Xie Yunting said, “Listen to Lu Jin’an. He has more experience than you, and he’s stronger too.”
“But Yi Yi didn’t even tell him.”
“She didn’t tell you either.”
Ming Yue bowed her head. On this matter, Gu Nianyi had treated everyone the same.
Ruan Zhixu said sternly, “Lu Jin’an stays. It’s his atonement.”
By evening, the others had all left.
Lu Jin’an gazed at the girl lying in the bed. She looked even thinner now, as if a stiff breeze could blow her away.
A needle was inserted into the back of her slender hand.
It was a potassium chloride drip. He knew how much it hurt.
Even at the slowest rate, it still burned fiercely.
Lu Jin’an stood and dipped a cotton swab in water to moisten her lips. She couldn’t have any fluids for six hours.
He was angry that she hadn’t told him, but even more so, he wanted to berate himself.
All this time, and he hadn’t noticed a thing.
Uterine fibroids could cause irregular periods, lower abdominal pain, even nausea.
Yet he had detected nothing.
He had even made her walk for so long back in North City.
Lu Jin’an kept talking to her, reading prose poems aloud, just as she had done at her grandfather’s bedside.
Just like the first time he had met her.
“The things of spring are all too superficial. I don’t want spring. I don’t want roses. I don’t want the glimmer of tears in your eyes. I want only a complete morning and evening with you.”
“Twilight is the most beautiful moment of the day. May every wandering heart find eternal refuge beneath the glow of a single lamp.”
The man’s magnetic voice echoed through the room.
Gu Nianyi drifted in and out of awareness, sometimes rousing and sometimes sinking back into sleep. She could hear Lu Jin’an reading the poems, and every time she woke, she saw him there.
He stayed by her side the whole time.
Lu Jin’an didn’t dare close his eyes. He held her cold hand, sharing his warmth with her.
He let her know he was there.
Gu Nianyi slept for a little while, her lips stirring. “Dr. Lu, I’m sorry.”
Her voice was so soft it was barely audible.
But in the dead of night, Lu Jin’an heard her clearly.
She was so good at enduring. No matter the pain or discomfort, she bore it all alone.
From the diagnosis until now, she had suffered through the misery, the torment, the anxiety—all while figuring out how to hide it from them.
After the surgery, when faced with everyone else’s concern, her first instinct was to apologize.
She felt like she had lied and deceived them. She felt like she had caused them trouble.
When in truth, she was the one who hurt the most.
Lu Jin’an tightened his grip on her hand and said softly, “Gu Nianyi, I’m sorry.”
“You must have had it so hard, all by yourself.”
At those words—”You must have had it so hard”—tears slipped silently from the corners of Gu Nianyi’s eyes.
The vast silence of the night stretched on. Moonlight glowed faintly, casting a soft halo across the windowsill and settling quietly on the bouquet of yellow roses.
Lu Jin’an leaned forward.
He kissed her.
Her damp eyes.
And her parched lips.