This could be the beginning… the start of something new. Author
~ ☼ ☾ ~
"Do you remember those papers?"
The sound of Yibo's voice came softly through the line after Zhan confirmed that he was at home.
Zhan's thoughts stalled for a moment. He searched his memory but found nothing, then shook his head.
"I don't recognize them, sir."
"The ones I told you I didn't want."
Yibo clarified.
At once, Zhan remembered.
After Dr. Yibo had given him the tablet to use, he had taken those papers back from him, intending to transfer all the information into the device. When he finished, he stored them in a box placed on top of the wardrobe.
Later, when the buns were being made and Noni had been looking everywhere for papers to line the bottom of the warmer, Zhan had almost brought them out....until Bai handed her an old notebook instead. Somehow, the papers had stayed hidden.
As if Dr. Yibo could see the realization on his face, Zhan nodded before answering,
"Yes, I remember them. I still have them, sir."
"That's what I need now, Zhan. I'm outside your gate. Can you bring them to me?"
Zhan nodded again, even though Dr. Yibo couldn't see him. At the same time, a weight settled in his chest at the realization that Dr. Yibo was actually standing outside, waiting for him.
When Zhan stepped out and saw him leaning against his car, phone to his ear, that feeling intensified.
There weren't many people on the street, but the way Dr. Yibo stood made him noticeable. Two passersby greeted him as they walked past, and he responded to each with a nod and a raised hand. It made one thing clear to Zhan.....Dr. Yibo hadn't come by accident. He knew exactly where he was.
For the past two days, Zhan had kept replaying Dr. Yibo's words about coming back, yet a part of him had dismissed them. He'd told himself the doctor only said that to calm him down at the time, to apologize for what had happened. Zhan had believed it because, in all their conversations, Dr. Yibo was the only one who seemed to think the incident wasn't entirely Zhan's fault....and maybe he would say anything just to ease his conscience.
After all, aside from work, there was nothing connecting them. That job had brought them together, and then torn them apart. Even after everything, Dr. Yibo had come to apologize and treated him with respect....more than enough, even if he never tried to help him get his job back. So Zhan had convinced himself that those words meant nothing more than courtesy.
But now, standing at the gate and waiting for him, Dr. Yibo proved that Zhan's doubts had been wrong.
Everything Zhan had first felt....every instinct he'd tried to ignore....was true. The doctor had really come back. He was here. Waiting.
Zhan tightened his grip on the papers and adjusted his shirt as he prepared to leave.
Earlier, he had asked permission from Nainai, who had just arrived with Uncle Sanxing, who returning from a two-day work trip out of town.
Nainai had complained about him going out at night, saying she didn't like such late trips. But the moment he handed her the bag of small treats he'd bought, she forgot her scolding and focused instead on praising the taste of the fresh milk inside.
So when Zhan told her he'd step out and be right back, her easy reply.... "Come back safely"....surprised him. He paused to look at her again before heading into the room where Bai and the others were chatting.
He grabbed a freshly ironed long shirt in a light lemon-green shade and put it on.
This time, he didn't even glance at his reflection in the mirror. He walked straight out. As he bent to slip on his shoes at the doorway, he heard Uncle Sanxing ask Nainai,
"Do you know where he's going?"
Nainai answered without hesitation,
"Sanxing, he's a young man. Should I really be interrogating him about where he's going at night? With his sense and his head on his shoulders?"
Her response made Zhan smile. In that moment, he understood why she hadn't questioned him at all....and it warmed him more than he expected.
Zhan turned and walked down the steps to the street below, where he could now clearly see the doctor standing outside, waiting for him.
Dr. Yibo was dressed in a thick brown coat, topped with a cap in a matching shade. The outfit sat neatly on him, understated yet striking.
Zhan tightened his grip on the papers in his hand and headed toward him. As if sensing his approach, Dr. Yibo turned fully to face him.
Something stirred in Zhan's chest the moment his eyes landed on him. The way the cap rested on Yibo's forehead, the deep shade of it framing his face against the darkness of the night....it made his features stand out even more. His skin looked fresh, untouched by strain, as though the past few days had brought him no hardship at all. Zhan felt his heart try, once again, to deny the obvious truth: that Yibo was really here for him, that he was the one being waited for.
Yibo was on the phone with Duan, telling him that a date had been set for their parents to meet the parents of the girl he liked. He mentioned that after settling the financial side, he hoped a day would be fixed as well, so he could properly plan and move forward.
Just as Yibo teased Duan about being overly eager, his eyes caught sight of Zhan stepping out of the house. He turned fully, his gaze traveling from head to toe.
Zhan was wearing a long-sleeved shirt that covered him from neck to ankle, leaving only his face and hands visible. The cool lemon-green color suited him perfectly, softening his features. And yet, beyond the color, there was something about how completely the fabric concealed him that held Yibo's attention all at once.
Yibo had long noticed that Zhan wasn't someone who liked to show off his body. Even at the hospital, where many nurses used the uniform as an excuse for tighter cuts and shorter hems, Zhan had never been like that. His clothes revealed nothing but his hands when he reached for something, and his face when he spoke.
Yibo didn't know why, but as he looked at the long shirt now, a fleeting thought crossed his mind....that he would like to know, at least once, what Zhan's frame really looked like beneath all that fabric.
He dismissed the thought immediately, returning his focus to the man approaching him.
Only when Zhan stopped in front of him did Yibo end the call.
"I'm somewhere else right now, Duan. I'll call you later."
He hung up, then looked at Zhan...and at the papers in his hands.
"I was honestly thinking you might not find them," Yibo said.
Zhan shook his head with a faint smile and handed them over.
"They're here. I just stored them away when I realized they weren't immediately needed."
Yibo took them, his eyes scanning the stack.
"This is the true definition of saving something for the future. Even I didn't think I'd come looking for them again. They're the last thing I imagined would still matter between us."
The words between us lingered in Zhan's mind, making him look up.
"But sir… what will they be used for?" he asked. "I already copied everything onto the charts."
Instead of answering, Yibo changed the subject.
"I don't like that 'sir' title you keep using. And besides, this isn't the hospital."
Zhan nodded slightly and lowered his gaze, understanding.
"There are still a few others I haven't checked," he added. "If I find them...."
"Just take pictures and send them to me," Yibo cut in. "You're on WeChat, right?"
Zhan lifted his head with a small smile.
"Yes. Maybe I'll find them by tomorrow."
"Alright."
A brief silence followed before Zhan spoke again.
"Thank you so much for the trouble you went through because of those gifts."
He was thanking him again. Yibo remembered the message Zhan had sent earlier, the one he hadn't replied to because he didn't know what to say at the time. Now, standing face to face after some distance had passed, the question slipped from his mouth before he could stop it.
"Did they help?" Yibo asked. "I mean… did they help you get through that moment?"
Zhan didn't look up. His eyes remained lowered. How could he tell him that he hadn't even opened them again since that day? That what truly helped him was something else entirely....words. His words. Words he had replayed in his mind over and over.
Just as Zhan lifted his head to speak, a car pulled up in front of them and came to a stop.
It was Uncle Ruobing's car.
From Yibo's face, Zhan's gaze shifted to Uncle Ruobing, who sat inside, staring at them with clear surprise.
His eyes searched Zhan's face, as if trying to confirm what he was seeing.
For a moment, Zhan seemed to look for something to say....then failed to find it, stood frozen.
Yibo turned slowly to look at the car and its driver. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He simply stood there as the car eventually pulled away and disappeared inside.
Something small.
Something big!.
✨✨✨
At exactly 9:30 a.m. the next morning....a Saturday....Zhan's message came in. It contained photos of the remaining documents Yibo had asked him to find.
There were six images in total. After sending them, Zhan added a short line underneath: "Good morning."
Yibo could almost picture him hesitating before sending it, probably stopping himself from adding sir in front of the greeting because of what Yibo had said the night before.
Yibo was still lying in bed. He hadn't been awake long, and he had no desire to get up yet. It had rained heavily the night before, leaving the air cool and the city unusually quiet.
Morning hadn't fully chased away the darkness; traces of the night still lingered. He had returned from his early workout at dawn and left all the curtains drawn, so the room remained dim, heavy with shadows.
The only reason he had woken up at all was his phone ringing....an overseas call from a hospital in Hong Kong. They had been trying to reach him since the previous week, asking him to assist with a surgical procedure. The patient was related to a prominent political figure, and because Yibo was regarded as one of the best surgeons in the country, his name had been shortlisted as the third specialist for the operation.
At first, he declined. Then they sent another message, increasing the fee far beyond what they had initially offered. When Yibo calculated it, he realized the payment would allow him to rest comfortably afterward....an actual break, one where nothing unexpected would follow him. So he agreed.
That morning, they called again to remind him that only four days remained before the surgery.
Only then did Yibo realize how far removed the date had been from his thoughts. In the past two days, his mind had been occupied by only one thing: how to get Zhan's job back. By his estimate, the professor would return in less than two weeks.
That was how he'd come up with the idea of retrieving those documents. If he presented them to the professor....along with clear evidence of how meticulously Zhan documented everything, without a single error....it would directly undermine the CMO's claims. That was why he had gone back to Zhan's house the night before to collect them himself.
Even now, Yibo couldn't properly define what he felt about Zhan. He only knew how deeply the situation troubled him, how invested he had become. The previous night, while standing beside Zhan, he had felt something unfamiliar....whenever Zhan looked up at him, or when that calm, steady voice spoke, Yibo felt safe. As if he had escaped everything else. As if nothing else mattered more than listening to him.
He didn't know what to call that feeling. He simply acknowledged it.... along with everything else he couldn't yet name.
After ending a call with Matron Tanga....informing her that he'd be away for a week and that his name should be removed from all scheduled surgeries and SRRI programs, leaving the two other doctors in charge.....Yibo began searching for flights to Hong Kong, aiming to leave within three days.
In the middle of that, Zhan's message notification appeared at the top of his screen.
Yibo immediately abandoned what he was doing and opened the chat.
He enlarged each image, studying them carefully. Zhan's handwriting was clean, precise....flawless. Without thinking, Yibo typed a reply.
"Thank you."
Before leaving the chat, he saw Zhan send an emoji of two hands pressed together in gratitude. Yibo stared at the reaction for a few seconds, then found himself typing again.
"You didn't answer my question yesterday."
He had asked whether those books had helped....whether they had helped Zhan get through that moment. But just then, a car had pulled up beside them. Zhan's attention had shifted entirely to it. When Yibo turned as well, the vehicle drove past them and headed straight for the gate of Zhan's house.
The gate opened. The car went inside.
After that, Zhan had simply said he needed to go back in. Yibo hadn't asked why. He hadn't said anything else either. They exchanged brief goodbyes....and that was it.
"I'm sorry… which answer?"
That was Zhan's reply.
"I asked weather those things help?"
A few seconds passed.
"No, I didn't use them."
"Can I know why?"
Yibo could tell Zhan was typing. The green typing indicator appeared and disappeared several times. But when the message finally came through, it was just one short line.
"I didn't show them to Nainai."
From the context, Yibo guessed Nainai was his grandmother. He shifted slightly, pulling the blanket closer around himself.
"I don't understand…"
Silence. Zhan didn't reply
.
So Yibo typed his name....just the way he usually said it out loud.
"Zhan."
"Yes…"
He answered, but still didn't give the explanation Yibo wanted.
"Why didn't you show her?"
"She'll ask why you brought them."
Yibo closed his eyes, opened them again, and reread the message.
Why did he bring them? Why, indeed? Wasn't it so they could help him through that moment? Was there any other reason?
"Don't you know why I gave them to you, Zhan?"
"I do."
"Then tell her."
"…Okay."
Yibo read that okay in his mind, soft and hesitant, head probably lowered. Without realizing it, he typed his name again.
"Zhan."
"Yes…"
"Tell me honestly.....was there any real reason you didn't use them, or was it just because you didn't want anyone asking why I gave them to you?"
"There's no other reason, really. I just don't know what I'd say to Nainai."
Without stopping to overthink it, Yibo started typing.
"Then go and show her now. Come back later and tell me what she says."
For a moment, it seemed like Zhan wouldn't reply. Then a single word appeared.
"Okay."
"Do you need time?" Yibo asked.
Zhan replied with nothing but a smiling emoji.
🙂
"Answer me…"
"Until when?" Zhan
Yibo checked the time.
"Within two hours. By 12 p.m."
A short pause followed, then Zhan typed:
"That's too soon…"
Too soon? How long could it take to pick up the items and show them?
Yibo shifted again under the blanket, his long fresh toes moving restlessly beneath it.
"When do you want, then?" Yibo
"Maybe sometime after midday?" Zhan
"Midday is vague. Choose a specific time."
"2 p.m.?" Zhan
Yibo nodded as if Zhan could see him.
"2 p.m. it is." Yibo
"Alright." Zhan
"And it's a promise." Yibo
"…Okay." Zhan
"Okay," Yibo
Yibo typed back as well.
Then he turned off his phone's Wi-Fi completely and tossed it aside.
He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, staring at the ceiling, counting how many hours remained until 2 p.m.
Someone please make 2 p.m. come faster… 😅
Author
Sun, 21 Dec.
2025
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛