By the time Dr.Lin Xinyue stepped out of the hospital, the city had already decided it was done with her.
At night the Singapore city was supposed to be the most beautiful – clean lights reflecting off glass towers, quiet streets, a kind of polished clam that made everything feel safe. That illusion lasted exactly until you worked a twelve- hour shift in emergency.
After that, it just feels empty.
Xinyue rolled her shoulders as she pushed through the sliding doors, her body aching in ways she no longer questioned. Her scrub smelled faintly of antiseptic and something she didn't want to identify if possible. Her hair, once neatly tied, had surrendered hours ago. There was probably a crease on her cheek from leaning against a wall for ten second too long.
She checked her phone.
Three messages from Zhang Yuerin, one person who makes everything easy in her life.
"Alive?"
"Don't tell me you're still at work."
"If you faint, I'm not coming to carry you."
Xinyue snorted softly and typed back with one hand other caressing her shoulder.
"Still alive, unfortunately. If I die, tell my mom I tried my best."
A reply came instantly.
"Your mom will say you didn't try hard enough."
That made her laugh, low but tired.
"Accurate," she muttered.
Dr. Han Soyeon didn't believe in "barely surviving". She believed in excellence, discipline, especially not making reckless decisions. If she saw Xinyue right now – exhausted, messy, walking alone at this hour she'd probably have a full lecture ready before she even reached the elevator.
Xinyue tucked her phone away and started to walk down to the street towards her apartment.
It wasn't far. Just ten minutes' walk, maybe less if she cut through the service road behind the hospital. Yuerin hated that route. Her mother would absolutely forbid it. Which, of course made it as the most efficient option.
"Just this once," Xinyue muttered, while already turning into the narrower road.
The alley wasn't exactly dangerous – it was Singapore, after all but it was quiet. Too quiet for a person. The kind of silence that made your footsteps sound louder than they should, give goosebumps all over your body which creeps through your nervous system.
Xinyue walked faster through that road, while her mind already drifting back to the night's cases.
The boy with the fractured arm who cried more from fear than pain, the old man who kept apologizing for being a burden and the women who stared at the ceiling and refused to speak, even when they stitched her wounds.
She had learned early in her career, that people didn't just come to the emergency room for injuries. They came because something in their life had already gone wrong.
She remembered, her father's saying the same thing, in different context. "People don't end up in trouble by accident, Xinyue. There's always a story behind it."
Her chest tightened briefly at the thought. It's too late, and too tired for the memories.
She had just reached the halfway point of the alley when she heard it.
A sound.
Low.
But rough.
A breath dragged through pain.
Xinyue stopped on the track.
For a moment, she told herself to keep walking. Not your problem.
That was the smart choice.
That was what her mother would say.
That was what anyone with basic survival instincts would say.
Then the sound came again.
A faint, strained groan.
And just like that, her doctor instinct won.
"Huh!" She signed.
"Of course, as always I make the excellent life decisions ever" she murmured to herself and stepped off the path and moved towards the source of the sound origin, her eyes adjusting to the darker corner of the alley.
At first, she didn't see anything. Then the shape came into focus. 'A man.' Slumped against the wall.
Still. Too still. For her liking. Her pulse kicked.
Xinyue moved quickly, dropping her bag as she crouched beside him.
"Hey, can you hear me?"
No response.
She reached for his neck, fingers pressing against his skin.
Pulse.
Fast. Weak.
Alive.
Her gaze dropped to his torso - and her breath caught.
Blood. A lot of it.
It soaked through his shirt, dark and spreading, pooling beneath him in a way that made her stomach tighten.
A gunshot wound. Her brain shifted instantly, fatigue pushed aside automatically.
"Okay," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "Okay, stay calm."
She pressed her hand gently against the wound, assessing.
Entry wound on the side. No obvious exit. Which meant the bullet was likely still inside.
Which meant….
"Great," she muttered. "Just great."
Her eyes flicked to his face for the first time.
And paused. Even in half-conscious, even pale from blood loss, the man didn't look… ordinary for her.
Sharp features. Dark hair falling across his forehead. A jaw set in tension even in unconsciousness. There was something about him - something controlled, something dangerous - that didn't match the image of a random victim in her short time analysis.
Xinyue swallowed that thought.
Not important.
Not right now.
She reached for her phone.
The second her fingers brushed it… His hand shot out.
Her wrist was caught in a grip that was far too strong for someone in his condition.
Xinyue froze.
His eyes opened. It's dark. Clear and focused.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, in a rough voice with pain but steady enough to unsettle her, he said.
"No hospital."
Xinyue blinked.
"I'm sorry?"
"No police."
She stared at him.
"You're bleeding out in an alley, and that's your main concern?"
His grip tightened slightly.
"No police."
Xinyue let out a slow breath, somewhere between disbelief and irritation.
"Right. Of course. Because that's a completely reasonable request."
He didn't respond. Just watched her.
And there it was again - that feeling.
Like she was being evaluated and measured.
Even now.
Even like this.
"Look," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "I don't know who you are, or what kind of trouble you're in, but you're in no position to negotiate with me."
A faint flicker crossed his face.
Not quite a smile.
Something sharper.
"I am," he said quietly, "if you want me alive."
That…
That was not how a patient should speak.
Xinyue narrowed her eyes, like she is going to lecture him.
"You're very confident for someone who might die in the next ten minutes."
"And yet," he murmured, "you haven't walked away."
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Damn him.
Because he was right.
She should leave.
She absolutely should leave.
But her hand was still pressed against his wound. She could feel the heat of his blood through her fingers. She could feel the irregular rhythm of his breathing.
And somewhere, buried under exhaustion and common sense, was that stubborn part of her that refused to step over someone who needed help.
Her father had made sure of that.
"Fine," she said finally, exhaling sharply. "No hospital. No police. But if you die, I'm going to be extremely annoyed with you."
A breath … almost a laugh… escaped him.
"Noted."
She shifted closer, adjusting her position to apply better pressure.
"What's your name?" she asked.
A pause. Then, "Taehyun."
She frowned. "Just Taehyun?"
"Yes."
"Of course, Mysterious. Love that." She muttered.
His eyes didn't leave her face.
"And you?"
"Dr. Lin Xinyue."
He seemed to register the title.
"Doctor."
"Yes," she said dryly. "Lucky for you."
His gaze dropped briefly to her hands, to the way she handled the wound without hesitation. Then back to her eyes.
"You shouldn't be here."
She snorted. "And you shouldn't be bleeding in a public alley, but here we are. Aren't we?"
For the first time, something like amusement flickered in his expression. It made him take a deep look at her.
No. It's not important. Xinyue thought and shifted her grip on him.
He couldn't stay here. He wouldn't make it. But taking him to a hospital wasn't an option for her not if what he said was true.
Which left her with exactly one terrible choice. Her apartment.
She stared at him.
Then at the blood.
Then back at him.
"This is a terrible idea," she muttered.
Taehyun's gaze sharpened slightly.
"What is?"
"Saving you."
A beat.
"Then don't."
She let out a short, humorless laugh. "Bit late for that."
Before she could second-guess herself, she hooked his arm over her shoulders and pulled.
He was heavy.
Solid.
And entirely unhelpful.
"Wow," she muttered under her breath, "you are not making this easy."
He tried to stand, a sharp breath escaping him as pain hit.
For a second, his control slipped and she saw it.
The strain. The edge of weakness. Which made him a human. Then it was gone again, replaced with that same cold steadiness. Xinyue tightened her grip around him.
"Try not to pass out," she said. "I don't have the upper body strength for that."
"You complain a lot."
"You've been shot. We all have problems."
That got another faint, breathy almost-laugh for her amusement.
Step by step, she started moving. Each step felt like a mistake. Each second felt like she was crossing a line she couldn't uncross. Her heart pounded as she glanced toward the street, half-expecting someone to appear …. someone looking for him.
For them, but nothing.
Just the quiet city, pretending nothing was wrong. By the time they reached her building, her arms were shaking. Her key slipped once before she managed to unlock the building door, unfortunately for her she didn't live in ground floor but in first.
She looked up for the lift.
Sixth floor.
"Of course," she sighed. "Because why would anything be easy?"
The climb was slow. Painful. For both of them.
At one point, Taehyun's weight shifted too suddenly, and she nearly lost her balance.
"Hey, no dying on the stairs," she snapped.
"Not my plan."
"Good. Because that would be very inconvenient."
Finally, finally, they reached her door. She shoved it open and guided him inside. The apartment was small, neat, familiar and safe or it had been.
Now it felt… different. Like something had followed them in. She barely had time to process that thought before Taehyun's knees gave out. He collapsed onto the couch with a heavy exhale.
Xinyue stood there for a second, breathing hard, staring at him.
At the blood.
At the situation she had just created.
Then she ran a hand through her hair and let out a tired laugh.
"Congratulations," she said to no one in particular. "You've officially ruined your life."
On the couch, Taehyun's eyes opened slightly. Even like this, even barely conscious, his gaze was sharp and focused on her.
"You chose this," he murmured.
Xinyue met his gaze.
Held it.
Then said quietly, "I know."
And somehow, she had the feeling that choice was going to cost her everything.