I tuck myself into bed with a blanket of what....ifs and a heart full of maybes. Zhan
~ ✩ ~
"So who exactly did you say he was?"
Aunt Shui asked, studying Zhan after he relayed the message.....that Dr. Yibo said he would do everything he could to make sure he returned to work.
Zhan lifted his head to look at her before answering.
"He's the doctor I work under."
"The one who loads you with work until you don't even know whether you're good or bad?"
Nainai asked again. Zhan shook his head.
"That's just how the job is structured, Nainai, it's not...."
He stopped himself abruptly. What was he about to do....defend Dr. Yibo?
Nainai didn't seem to notice his hesitation. She went on,
"If he knows you're not at fault, then he should just get you reinstated. What's the difference between him coming here and what they already told you at the hospital, since he didn't say they've taken you back?"
The word difference made Zhan think of the bags that boy had handed him from Dr Yibo....the ones he'd opened in disbelief.
The first bag had been filled entirely with books....beautiful, well-chosen medical textbooks.
The second bag contained a mix of items he hadn't fully processed at first glance. He remembered a large box of chocolates, three bags of Lipton tea....the kind you could tell immediately weren't local....and then a small device he'd pulled out, something like an MP3 player. On it was an image, and above it the words:
"Peaceful music and words for your quiet moments."
After that, Zhan couldn't clearly recall what else he'd seen. He'd quickly tied the bags shut and taken them inside. Standing to the side, he'd called out to Noni, who had been sitting and chatting nearby. She came over immediately.
"Noni, please take these and keep them for me," he said. "Put them away until I ask for them. And please....don't let anyone know about them."
She accepted them with both hands, asking lightly, "No problem. But where should I store them...high or low? So I know where to put them."
"Somewhere out of the way," Zhan replied. "I'll ask for them when I need them."
He said it plainly, knowing full well he had no intention of asking for them anytime soon. He had no explanation he could give to Nainai for those items. Even he himself was unsettled by them.
From Dr. Yibo's words, Zhan believed he genuinely regretted what had happened. He believed the doctor felt responsible.... maybe even believed the situation had arisen entirely because of the workload he'd given to him.
Still, the gifts confused him. Deeply. The visit itself, the words Dr. Yibo had said, all of it felt unreal. Zhan couldn't reconcile the man he knew with someone who would personally go out and buy things for him.
So now, as Nainai spoke of there being no real difference between the visit and what the hospital had already said, Zhan simply listened. He knew she didn't understand who Dr. Yibo was....or how highly Zhan regarded him.
Then he remembered the doctor's words:
"Please apologize to your mother for me…"
Had he known this situation would weigh so heavily on Nainai?
Zhan listened as Aunt Shui continued explaining that he hadn't been dismissed outright....that he'd only been asked to stay away pending a final decision, and that even Dr. Yibo had said he would return to work.
But Nainai didn't seem convinced.
Her reasoning followed a familiar path: ever since Uncle Ruobing's school days, she had disliked this line of work. Back then, he too had been endlessly busy, exhausted, and unseen....struggling for years before finally finding stability.
"…Even if his own work helps people," she went on, "I've never truly liked this profession. Today, if this boy had gotten married even if he's divorced by his partner, at least he'd know he'd come away with something to show for all this hardship."
Zhan said nothing.
He simply listened, carrying the weight of it all quietly inside.
The ringing of his phone saved him from having to listen any longer to Nainai's familiar arguments.... arguments that always circled back to marriage and the future she hoped he would hurry into.
It was Aji calling. Zhan went into his room before answering, greeting her softly.
"Tell me...did Dr. Yibo call you, or did he not?"
That was the first thing she asked. Her voice carried urgency and barely restrained curiosity. Zhan smiled faintly, already knowing her temperament, before replying.
"He did."
"I couldn't believe it when he called me asking for directions to your house," Aji rushed on. "If I hadn't known where you lived, I honestly don't know what I would have done. I wanted to call you earlier, but Baili's dad told me to wait a bit. Did he tell you he was coming when he called? When? Zhan, please tell me everything…"
She spoke so quickly that Zhan felt a fresh wave of surprise rise in him...especially as he remembered Dr. Yibo's final words.
Your house isn't hard to find. I'll come again.
He forced himself to push that voice aside and calmly told Aji everything that had happened between him and Dr. Yibo....everything except the gifts.
That night, even as he lay down to sleep, Dr. Yibo's words continued to echo in his mind. Bai was nearby, looking for a sock he was sure he'd seen earlier, but Zhan couldn't bring himself to answer him. His thoughts wouldn't settle.
"I won't ever let them dismiss you."
Zhan closed his eyes and pulled the blanket over himself, listening to the breeze drifting in through the window, allowing his heart to linger in that moment....alone with Dr. Yibo's voice in his head.
In Taichen's room, around eight-thirty that night, Aunt Hsiao turned to her sister, Mama (Taichen), and said,
"I was just saying....when exactly did that boy Zhan even finish school for them to be paying him that kind of money? The moment we say anything, people accuse us of jealousy or stirring trouble."
Maama scoffed.
"I've held my tongue long enough. And it's not even about Zhan....it's that brat boy, Bai. I don't know why, but I've disliked seeing him in this house ever since that school incident, when my brother was questioned because of that abandoned child."
Aunt Hsiao clicked her tongue.
"This house has seen more than enough drama over children, Maama. The only ones who've managed to live peacefully here are Gege and a few others. As for me, I won't be offering any sympathy. Let him come back home. Let's see how this so-called lucky boy compares to Fuyue, who people say has nothing but a sharp mouth."
From inside the room, where Fuyue lay on his bed listening to them, a wide smile slowly spread across his face....a smile that came from deep within him. His long-held wish had finally come true. What he'd once seen as an unreachable world now rested in the palm of his hand.
He remembered how Nurse Suchue had explained everything to him....how she'd approached a male nurse named Saleh, someone who worked closely with Zhan, and bribed him using part of the money he had given her. Together, they altered medication reports....from Zhan's notes all the way to the dispensing stage....ensuring that when the incident came to light, the blame would fall squarely on Zhan alone.
What Fuyue hadn't anticipated....what he hadn't even considered....was the patient's death.
When Nurse Suchue first told him the elderly man had died, he'd felt a flicker of unease, even panic. But she'd quickly brushed it off, telling him that deaths were common in the hospital, sometimes several in a single day. This patient, she'd said, had been critically ill anyway....there had never been any real hope of recovery.
That explanation had soothed him. His focus returned to success rather than loss.
Now, as he listened to Aunt Hsiao and Maama complaining about Mama Taichen's refusal to go and express sympathy over Zhan's suspension, he felt a strong urge to tell them the truth....to say that he was the cause of it all, the architect of the very story they were quietly pleased with.
But another part of his mind warned him against it. Their hearts wouldn't be able to bear the full truth....especially not the part involving the patient's death. Aunt Hsiao might have handled it, but Maama would spiral into endless doubt and fear.
So Fuyue stayed silent.
He reached for his phone, irritated at how much money he'd drained from his account.....Nurse Suchue hadn't been cheap. Still, when he imagined Zhan returning home day after day, humiliated, crushed, branded as careless in front of their uncles and everyone else....when he imagined the shame pressed onto him from every direction.....he felt a deep, satisfying calm.
One thing was clear in Fuyue's mind:
If he couldn't move ahead of Zhan in this life, then no success would ever be allowed to reach Zhan without him standing in its way. He would block it....every time....using everything he had, even if it cost him everything.
There was no space in his heart for Zhan's success.
What Fuyue didn't know was that just as he would fall asleep smiling that night, so would Zhan.
Because not every turning point in life carries darkness....sometimes, what feels like ruin is only the beginning of something quietly, unexpectedly better.
✨✨✨
Somehow, you became home. And I didn't even realize I was homesick until I met you.
...Yibo
~ * * ~
Primecare Hospital
09:30 a.m.
The next morning.
"Temperature normalized. CRP trending down. Ceftriaxone continued. Redness not spreading…"
The nurse standing in front of Yibo's desk kept reading steadily, barely pausing for breath.
Yibo sat behind the desk with his hands clasped together, listening with full attention. He had stopped scrolling through his phone a while ago; now he simply nodded occasionally, his expression calm and unreadable.
"Diabetic ketoacidosis. Presented confused and vomiting. Already on sliding-scale insulin. Fluids ongoing."
The nurse finished and looked up, meeting Yibo's gaze. Yibo was still sitting there, fingers interlaced, watching him.
"That's all, sir."
Yibo nodded slowly, murmuring a soft acknowledgment as if only just realizing the report had ended. He released his hands, adjusted his posture, and asked,
"Sorry.....what did you say your name was?"
"Nurse Han Li, sir."
Yibo nodded again.
"Thank you for the update. But it seems you don't quite understand what a proper briefing entails. You spent the entire time repeating information I already know about each patient's diagnosis. You didn't specify beds, timelines, expected outcomes.....nothing concrete. For example, bed one, Nan Hua: what was done, what results were obtained, what we're anticipating next. If you mentioned any of that, it wasn't clear. The way you delivered it was scattered....there was nothing structured to take away."
There was a brief silence before Han Li replied quietly,
"I'll try to improve, sir."
Yibo simply shook his head and reached for his phone.
"You can go. I'll call Matron Tanga. I'm sorry, but I'll inform her that I can't work with you. I won't wait around while you learn the basics of your job."
Han Li bowed slightly and left, his shoulders slumped. Yibo knew, even from that short exchange, what this meant for the man placement. He might have been capable of improving.... but he wasn't willing to give him that chance. Not after everything that had already gone wrong, especially when the blame had fallen on him who hadn't caused it.
Yibo's gaze lingered briefly on the doorway Han Li had exited through, then drifted to the spot where Zhan usually stood whenever he entered the office....the way his voice would soften when he spoke, how he'd pause and glance up whenever Yibo went quiet, checking for approval or instruction.
So many memories passed through Yibo's mind.
From the moment he assigned Zhan the task, to every time Yibo asked careful questions just to be sure Zhan was doing things right....so careful that Yibo ensure that Zhan feared to abandon the responsibility. Back then, his only hope had been that the work would consume Zhan's weekends entirely, that he might actually rest instead of wandering the city with the man who never quite sat right with him, even after Yibo had seen Zhan's brother with them.
What Yibo hadn't realized was that the task wouldn't just cost Zhan a weekend.....it would lead to an indefinite suspension, one with no clear end in sight.
Deep down, Yibo was convinced that if there truly had been an error, then he bore the greater share of responsibility. Zhan had always worked beyond what was expected of him....this wasn't guesswork, it was something Yibo had observed from their very first day working together. Zhan wasn't just diligent; he was stretched thin, juggling this assignment alongside his regular duties at the hospital.
Yibo couldn't bring himself to believe the mistake originated with Zhan. Not because Zhan was incapable of error.....but because time and again, Yibo had watched him double-check his notes, ask clarifying questions, and confirm details. Even on Zhan's very first day, Yibo hadn't found a single error.
That was why, when he'd seen Zhan's eyes swollen with tears, he'd made a quiet decision to investigate the matter thoroughly.
Tears had always been Yibo's weakness.
Whenever he thought back on the most painful days of his life, one image repeated itself....his mother crying. The way her tears would trail down her cheeks, changing her eyes into something he barely recognized. Every time he saw that, it felt like something inside him collapsed completely.
And whenever tears appeared....real, helpless tears....it was as though every ounce of his resolve dissolved at once.
When he returned to his office and sat down, fragments of the past began to resurface.....days when he had endured scolding and insults from his father, often in front of others, over faults that were never severe enough to justify such humiliation. And whenever he lifted his eyes and saw the way his mother's gaze would tremble in those moments, he would feel himself lose the strength to act on anything his heart urged him to do.
He clenched his hands, recalling the many nights she had stood outside the window of his room after his father had ordered him chained inside. Her eyes, soaked with silent tears, had always been enough to restrained him....right up until the day his father finally grew tired and came to unlock him himself.
The worst day of all was the one he traveled from Beijing to Nanjing to confront his father at his office. Chaos had erupted there; he had struggled free from the people restraining him and stumbled outside, where a driver....someone who worked there and happened to be related to his mother....found him and took him home.
He remembered the sheer panic in his mother's eyes when his younger sister, Qile, opened the living room door and he walked in, disheveled and barely conscious of his surroundings.
Standing in front of his mother, he knew there was no need for questions. She didn't have to ask what had happened.
His voice broke as he spoke, the rawness in it revealing a resilience forged by pain....a resilience that defined who Yibo had become.
"Mom, this morning Dad went to our school. He paid only A Bo's tuition because I told him I wouldn't study what he wants me to study at university. It's been two years since this argument started....you remember, since the day Gege returned from school. He never let it go. He carried it in his heart until today, until he chose to expose his resentment in front of people who know nothing about us."
"I know money isn't the issue. I won't ever fail to study because of tuition fee. But you said that just like everyone else in this family, I have a right too....because he is my father. And I haven't wronged him since then, you know that. I tried to follow everything you told me over the years. You said I should act like I didn't exist, obey all his instructions....and I did, Mom. There wasn't a single one I ignored."
"I can't even remember the last time I truly saw him. Even when we were returning to school, he only called A Bo to say goodbye. I said nothing. I didn't tell you. I did everything I could to endure it, to look away. But still, he saw nothing. He never saw me changing. In his eyes, I am still guilty....always."
He stopped when his voice finally collapsed, his entire body trembling, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
His mother's tears didn't fall immediately. They pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision as she watched her son unravel before her, feeling the strength drain from her own body.
"How did you get to Nanjing?" she asked at last.
"I went to Uncle Yue. He put me in one of the livestock transport trucks coming into the city."
"And then?"
"I walked the rest of the way… straight to Dad's office."
That was when her tears finally spilled down her cheeks.
"What did you do when you got there, Yibo?"
He answered without hesitation.
"I just wanted to ask him, Mom. I wanted to ask him what I had done to deserve this....why he refused to pay my tuition."
Her tears continued to fall as the sound of a car entering the compound echoed through the house. None of them could have imagined how that day would end.....an ending more terrifying than anything they had endured in the years before.
That night stretched on endlessly, its hours bearing witness to a scene Yibo would never forget: his mother clutching his father's hand, trembling as she begged him to reconsider his decision....not to send Yibo away to a correctional facility. His father had arrived with men in uniform, resolute and unmoved.
Yibo remembered how his mother held onto him, her whole body shaking as she pleaded, apologizing again and again, begging his father to withdraw the punishment. He remembered the tears in her eyes.... the same tears that had always stripped him of resistance.
He said nothing. He did nothing.
They dragged him outside and forced him into the vehicle in full view of everyone in the house, while he stared helplessly at the tears in his mother's eyes....and in Qile's.
Pain like that....those violent moments soaked in tears....already had a history in his life, a history belonging to what he considered his first life. In this second life, however, he could swear that no such tears existed anywhere within it. He no longer carried the same kind of weakness, and more than anything, he never wanted to face it again.
That was why, the moment he looked into Zhan's eyes and saw those tears, and realized that even if the mistake hadn't been Zhan's, the wound had come from the job he himself had given him, something old and familiar stirred inside him....something he thought he had left behind. It was heavier than the grief of losing the patient, heavier than the weight of the meeting they had just come from.
That was why, yesterday, he had personally checked on the patients alone, without asking anyone for help.
That same day, he had a surgery scheduled. Once it was done, he returned to the hospital office where he was expected. He didn't finish everything until close to four o'clock. When he finally left, he headed toward the SRRI section....certain Zhan would still be there, his mind clearly elsewhere. Instead, he was told that Zhan had already left with his colleague, Aji, who was accompanying him home.
With that information, he collected Aji's number and went home.
His thoughts were completely tangled. He drank only tea, changed his clothes, and left again. He had already decided....he would go straight to Zhan's house and try to fix things before they went too far.
What his mind kept telling him was this: by now, Zhan, his siblings, and even his mother must all be sitting with his name heavy in their thoughts, convinced that he was the reason Zhan had lost his job. He had seen it before....anything that concerned the siblings was always shared equally with their mother.
So at that moment, his only focus was clearing his name and, more importantly, removing from Zhan's heart the belief that he was the cause of everything. That was why he decided to take a few things with him.....things he knew, from experience, helped ease tension. Over the years, none of the coping tools he had gathered had ever failed him.
His mind drifted back to how he had seen Zhan the day before.
Dressed in black....so different from the white hospital clothes he usually wore. For a moment, he had barely recognized him. Then, strangely, Zhan had seemed sharper, clearer, almost brighter.
Yibo closed his eyes and leaned back deeply into his chair, Zhan's face replaying in his mind. The way Zhan had looked at him....eyes open and clear. No tears. No redness. Just a faint swelling.
Something shifted inside his chest.
He had never thought about another person in this world the way he thought about this boy Zhan.....not since his mother. Zhan carried something he couldn't name, something he couldn't define. All he knew was that being around him brought a sense of calm.
Calm. Peace?
Maybe they were the same thing.
He was certain that the words he had said yesterday had helped clear some of the doubts Zhan carried about him. Now, only one thing remained: fulfilling the promise he had made.... to do everything in his power to ensure Zhan wasn't permanently dismissed.
And that meant gathering solid evidence....enough to counter whatever the CMO would present once the Professor returned. Because that, more than anything else, would determine the outcome. If the CMO spoke and he stayed silent, how could the professor possibly take his side over the CMO's?
✨✨✨
Two days later.
8:30 p.m.
Zhan stared at his long fingernails. Traces of flour were still stuck beneath them.
He had been doing the same thing since morning....baking. Cupcakes. Hundreds of them. It was for He San's birthday, the son of Uncle Sanxing, whose celebration was scheduled for the next day. Uncle Sanxing's wife had personally called him and given him the contract to handle both the cakes and the meat pies. It was a big event.....they had never celebrated the boy's birthday before. They had waited until he turned five.
(I forgot, Zhan do snacks occasionally, another side job he has.)
The cupcakes alone were nearly three hundred pieces. The same went for the meat pies. He had worked nonstop since morning. By evening, the cakes were finished, and he moved on to the meat pies. Now everything was ready.....only frying remained. He had fried just five pieces for tasting, packaged the rest, and placed them in the fridge to be done in the morning.
As he cleaned his fingers, he could hear Loazu complaining loudly inside the room where he sat with Bai and Loazu older sister, Fang. Loazu wouldn't stop grumbling about the money he had wasted on Bai's cupcakes.....the cakes had turned out so hard he couldn't even give it to his friends.
Zhan smiled faintly as he scrubbed the remaining flour from his nails.
Nainai wasn't home. She had gone to a neighbor's house to offer condolences for a relative who had passed away. The woman was an old friend....someone she had grown up with in the same neighborhood....so Zhan knew the conversation would be long and winding.
Just as he finished cleaning his hands, his phone rang.
His eyes went straight to the number.....and the name.
Dr. Yibo.
His hand paused for a second, confirming what he was seeing, before he answered.
"Hello…"
His voice came out soft.
"Hello, Zhan."
The voice he had missed for the past two days finally filled his ear. Before he could respond, it came again.
"Zhan, are you home?"
Sat, 20 Dec.
2025
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛