At Guichen Medical Hall, Su Muchen was staring blankly at the computer.
Several documents were open on the screen: the Sheng family’s investigation, the Hanchuan defense line, the emergency plan for the Northern Frontier military supply route, and the revised risk assessment for the Guichen Medical Sect. Every one of them was only half finished, and every one had stopped at a point where more information was needed to continue.
He had actually been staring at the screen for nearly an hour, yet his thoughts remained completely stagnant, as though something invisible had jammed them.
It was not because he lacked information.
It was because the Door had not opened yet.
He unconsciously glanced toward the back room.
The door was quietly closed, its wood grain looking especially old beneath the dim yellow light, like an ordinary door.
Su Muchen withdrew his gaze and picked up the coffee that had long since gone cold.
The bitter taste was so harsh that it numbed the root of his tongue, yet he seemed not to notice. He simply put the cup back down and continued staring blankly at the screen.
That night, the white light finally appeared in the back room.
It did not unfold steadily layer by layer as it usually did. Instead, it was like a narrow gap blown open by the wind, thin and flickering, as though it might go out at any moment.
Su Muchen abruptly rose from his chair. His knee struck the edge of the desk, but he did not even feel the pain. He simply hurried toward the back room.
When Xiao Yuan stepped out of the light, he carried the chill of a snowy night with him, a thin layer of white resting on his shoulders.
His complexion looked more exhausted than it had over the previous few days, with faint dark shadows beneath his eyes, yet his back remained straight.
The first thing Su Muchen looked at was still his hand.
Xiao Yuan obediently extended his right hand. The dressing was clean, with no blood seeping through.
“I changed the dressing.”
Su Muchen pulled his hand over and carefully examined it from beginning to end.
There was no longer any redness or swelling around the wound, and it was healing better than expected.
Only after confirming that everything was fine did his expression improve slightly.
“Why are you so late today?”
“I was delayed in Hanchuan.”
Xiao Yuan took out the wooden box from inside his robes and placed it on the table.
“We’re leaving for the Northern Frontier’s First Military City tomorrow.”
Su Muchen’s movements stopped, and he raised his head.
“That fast?”
“We can’t delay any longer,” Xiao Yuan said. His tone was calm, yet carried an unmistakable decisiveness.
“Hanchuan has stabilized, and the matters in Qingshi Village have mostly been settled. Staying any longer would only be wasting time.”
Su Muchen fell silent.
There were many things he wanted to say.
But after circling around his throat once, all those words ultimately became only one sentence:
“How long?”
Xiao Yuan looked at him.
In those usually composed eyes, some extremely faint emotion flashed by, almost impossible to detect.
“I’m not sure.”
Those three words fell between them like a stone.
It was not heavy, yet it sank so deeply that his chest felt constricted.
Su Muchen lowered his eyes and did not press further.
He knew Xiao Yuan could not give him a definite answer, just as he likewise could not tell Xiao Yuan how long this Door would continue to open.
Between them lay not only wind, snow, and distance, but also a Door that neither of them could control.
He lowered his head and opened the wooden box.
Inside were several documents, stacked neatly one atop another, all reports concerning Northern Frontier military affairs and supply routes.
On top was also a letter.
The envelope was inscribed with the words, “To be opened by Physician Su.” The handwriting was slender and upright, every stroke carrying the refined bearing of a scholar.
They were Xia Lanshi’s characters.
Su Muchen picked up the letter and was about to open it.
A hand suddenly reached over and pressed down on his fingertips.
That hand was a circle larger than his own, with clearly defined knuckles and thin calluses that had yet to fade from the palm.
It pressed neither lightly nor heavily against the envelope, stopping his movement halfway.
Su Muchen looked up in confusion.
The next moment, Xiao Yuan suddenly leaned closer.
So close that they could feel the faint warmth of each other’s breath.
His lips were almost against Su Muchen’s ear as he lowered his voice, his deep voice whispering beside him:
“Read it when you’re alone.”
The warm breath brushed past his ear, carrying a warmth that even the cold wind and snow of the Northern Frontier could not penetrate, lightly sweeping across that thin skin.
Su Muchen stiffened all over as though he had been burned by something.
He abruptly covered his ear and took a large step backward.
His heartbeat lost its rhythm in that instant, pounding against his chest so loudly that he could barely hear himself.
The tips of his ears visibly flushed red.
Behind the counter, Xiao glanced up quietly at the sound.
His gaze swept lightly over Su Muchen’s expression and the letter clenched tightly in his other hand.
Then he lowered his eyes again, picked up his cup, and took a sip without expression.
“J-just talk when you’re talking. Don’t get so close.”
Su Muchen’s voice was half a pitch higher than usual, carrying a trace of panic that even he himself had not noticed.
He tried to put on a stern expression.
However, those reddened ears had already betrayed him completely.
Xiao Yuan looked at him without speaking, but there was a faint trace of amusement in his eyes.
That smile was like a ripple left behind when the night wind skimmed across a lake, disappearing in an instant.
“Remember.”
After saying those two words, he turned around, took the remaining documents from the wooden box, spread them out on the table one by one, and began reporting the final arrangements for Hanchuan and Qingshi Village.
His tone was calm and his explanation orderly and precise, completely unlike the man who had just leaned close and whispered into Su Muchen’s ear.
Su Muchen stood where he was, his heartbeat still not completely settled.
He tightened his grip on the letter and did not ask anything further.
He tucked the letter beneath his notebook, while also pulling away those feelings that should not have existed.
He sat opposite Xiao Yuan, opened his notebook, and began taking notes.
Yet whenever he occasionally raised his eyes, his gaze would inadvertently sweep over those calm eyes across from him.
Then he would quickly look away.
Xiao Yuan continued explaining several documents one by one:
The sealing of Hanchuan’s granaries.
The subsequent arrangements for Qingshi Village.
The progress of reorganizing the Northern Watchpost.
The interrogation of the gray-clothed men from Black Pine Ridge.
He spoke of each matter extremely quickly, clearly and systematically, without a single unnecessary word.
It was as though he was using the fastest possible speed to cram everything that needed to be explained into this one night.
Su Muchen listened and recorded at the same time, his pen moving rapidly across the paper with almost no pause.
He knew Xiao Yuan was racing against time.
It was not panic or urgency, but rather a habit developed through years of warfare: always finish speaking while there was still a chance to speak, and finish whatever needed doing while there was still a chance to do it.
Of all the information he heard that night, what surprised him most was the matter involving the Xia family’s branch line and the Sheng family.
Although Xiao Yuan did not explain it in detail, he vaguely revealed that Xia Lanshi also possessed imperial blood.
Su Muchen thought silently:
The rich and powerful sure have a messy circle.
“Are you going back tonight?”
“Yes. We’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning, and I need to take the last batch of supplies back tonight,” Xiao Yuan said.
Su Muchen nodded.
He put down his pen and got up to move the last box of supplies from the storage room. His footsteps were hurried, and his figure soon disappeared at the end of the corridor.
Xiao Yuan remained where he was, his gaze falling on Su Muchen’s notebook.
His eyes lingered there for a moment before shifting subtly to the right, landing on the man behind the counter who had maintained his lazy posture the entire time.
Xiao leaned back in his chair, holding the glowing tablet in his hand. The light from the screen illuminated the side of his face, making his eyes behind the thin-rimmed glasses appear alternately bright and dim.
He looked as though he were browsing some information, occasionally swiping across the screen with his fingertip. His posture was so relaxed that he resembled a cat curled up on a windowsill taking a nap.
Xiao Yuan could tell.
That looseness was fake.
From the moment he stepped into Guichen Medical Hall, Xiao’s posture had remained in the optimal state.
He appeared to be casually leaning against the back of his chair, but every joint was actually maintained at an angle from which he could exert force at any moment.
Although his gaze rested on the tablet, it had never truly left the area where Xiao Yuan and Su Muchen were.
Even the rhythm of his breathing remained at a certain steady pace.
Like a short blade sheathed in its scabbard, ready to be drawn at any moment.
Xiao Yuan could not help thinking inwardly that with Su Muchen’s level of skill, if he had to fight someone who had undergone professional training, he would have absolutely no chance of winning.
He was genuinely worried. But there was no other option right now.
Apart from Su Muchen, no one could get close to Xiao.
As though sensing the scrutinizing gaze, Xiao slowly raised his head. His eyes moved away from the tablet and met Xiao Yuan’s directly.
He did not dodge, nor did he pretend nothing had happened.
He merely narrowed his eyes slightly, the corners of his lips curving into an extremely faint arc.
Like an owl watching its prey from the darkness, or perhaps a silent provocation of some kind.
Xiao Yuan did not avert his gaze.
Their eyes briefly clashed beneath the dim yellow light, like two unsheathed blades lightly touching.
Neither said a word.
Only when the sound of Su Muchen moving boxes came from the end of the corridor did Xiao withdraw his gaze. He lowered his head again and lightly swiped his finger across the tablet, as though nothing had happened.
Xiao Yuan also looked away.
The footsteps approached from the distance.
Su Muchen came out carrying a box of supplies, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. He complained as he walked:
“Why is this box so heavy? What did you put in it?”
“Rehydration salts,” Xiao said.
Xiao Yuan immediately reached out and took the box from Su Muchen’s arms, placing it steadily onto the cart. He then stuffed several cloth bags and packets of medicine into the gaps, his movements brisk and efficient.
Xiao did not help. He simply stood to one side and watched the show.
“Mu’an.”
“Hmm?” Su Muchen was holding another box, breathing slightly heavily.
“You should exercise more.”
“……”
“His Highness hasn’t even fully recovered from his injuries, yet he carries things faster than you.”
“Physical strength isn’t my specialty!”
The supplies were quickly loaded.
Xiao Yuan placed the final box onto the cart and gripped the copper ring.
White light seeped through the crack beneath the door, weaker than before.
Su Muchen stood beside the door and looked at him.
“Be careful on the road.”
Xiao Yuan nodded.
“Mu’an.”
Su Muchen froze slightly, as though he still had not completely grown accustomed to hearing that name from Xiao Yuan’s mouth.
But Xiao Yuan said nothing more.
Before turning and stepping into the white light, he merely looked at Su Muchen one last time.
That glance was very brief, yet very deep, as though he wanted to carve the person before him, together with the shop behind him, firmly into his bones and blood.
Then he grasped the copper ring and pushed the cart into the light.
The white light closed behind him.
There was no further movement beyond the Door.
Guichen Medical Hall became quiet once more, with only the faint sound of Xiao setting down his tablet behind the counter.
“My rest time has arrived, cousin. Keep watch properly.”
With that, Xiao returned to his room.
Su Muchen stood where he was for a moment before walking over and casually picking up the envelope that had been pressed beneath his notebook.
He turned and returned to the counter.
If it had been an ordinary letter, Xiao Yuan would not have specifically told him to read it when he was alone.
That meant this letter was not military intelligence or any official correspondence.
It was something more personal.
He hesitated for a moment, but still opened it.
The letter unfolded, and the fragrance of ink immediately reached his nose.
Xia Lanshi’s handwriting remained neat and elegant.
—————————
“Respectfully addressed to Physician Su:
The snow and wind in the Northern Frontier have grown increasingly fierce, yet all matters within the military have now been brought into order. The wounded soldiers have also been saved thanks in large part to the medicines you sent. Whenever Lanshi thinks of this, I am deeply moved by your kindness, which cannot be repaid with mere words of thanks.
I am taking the liberty of writing this letter because there is something that has weighed on my mind for a long time, something I have been unable to let go of.
When Lánshí was young, he was once saved by someone in a moment of danger. I was very young at the time, and everything I saw and remembered has long since become blurred. I only remember that person wearing black clothes, with what seemed to be a flower-shaped mark on his back, its outline resembling a flower from the Other Shore. For many years, this matter has remained in my heart, and I have never dared to forget it.
Recently, in my dealings with Young Master Xiao, I have always felt that there was something about him that seemed to correspond with that old memory. However, this is merely my own speculation, without any evidence to support it. Since Young Master Xiao has already explicitly denied it, I should not continue to press the matter. It is just that there remains a trace of doubt in my heart that I have been unable to completely dispel.
Therefore, I boldly make this request.
If you happen to have the opportunity in the future, and if doing so would not disturb Young Master Xiao, could you please keep an eye out for something: on Young Master Xiao’s right side, between the area below his shoulder blade and his back, does he have a mark resembling a flower from the Other Shore, or perhaps a knife scar?
I am only seeking an answer.
If it is there, then it is fate.
If it is not, then perhaps it was simply destiny.
Regardless of the result, I will be deeply grateful.
Also, I hope you will keep this matter confidential and not let Young Master Xiao know that I made this request. If you find nothing, then please regard it as merely an old dream that Lánshí has yet to awaken from. From this point onward, I will never mention it again.
Though the paper is short, my feelings are long, and I dare not trouble you any further.
I only hope that you will take good care of yourself.
Huáiyù respectfully bows.
—————————
Su Muchen remained silent for a long while after reading the letter.
Today, he had learned some fragments of information from Xiao Yuan.
It seemed that Xia Lanshi was an unfortunate child born as a result of the schemes between the Sheng and Xia families, and that he had not had an easy life since childhood.
He had always remained deeply concerned about the person who had once saved him from danger when he was young, and suspected that person was Xiao.
He thought back to the previous time Xia Lanshi had been in danger. Although Xiao had never said so explicitly, he had definitely gone to save him.
The last time Xia Lanshi had been poisoned and was on the verge of death, it had also been Xiao who stepped forward, bringing medicine and equipment to save him.
The more Su Muchen thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed. If Xiao really was that black-clothed man who had saved Xia Lanshi when he was a child… then everything seemed to make sense.
There were just a few doubts that still remained.
Su Muchen folded the letter and put it inside his notebook.
He began thinking about how exactly he could confirm it.
He could not exactly tell Xiao to take off his shirt so he could examine him. That would be far too direct and difficult to explain.
Nor could he sneak over while Xiao was bathing to peek at him. That would make him look like a pervert.
In the end, he thought hard about it for an entire night without coming up with a good solution.
In the days that followed, the door never opened again.
On the first day, Su Muchen waited the entire night. By dawn, there was a cup of cold coffee and an unfinished document sitting on the desk.
On the second day, he began organizing the supplies, sorting everything that might be needed into separate boxes.
On the third day, he called Lawyer Liang and carefully reviewed the cooperation proposal from the Sheng family point by point.
On the fourth day, he sat behind the counter, staring at that silent door without doing anything at all.
On the fifth day, Su Muchen wrote a single line in his notebook:
—Unopened. No white light, no vibration, no echo.
Xiao returned from outside carrying a bag of coffee.
“Still waiting?”
Su Muchen did not deny it.
“Mm.”
On the sixth day, Su Muchen finally could not stand it any longer and got up from behind the counter.
He walked to the back room and gently touched the door.
Cold. Silent. No response whatsoever, as though it were nothing more than an ordinary door.
Su Muchen grew increasingly uneasy and could not help asking Xiao,
“Is this door broken?”
Xiao was silent for a moment.
“Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t.”
Such an ambiguous answer naturally failed to satisfy Su Muchen.
Under his gaze, Xiao let out a soft sigh. He had no choice but to slowly walk over to the door, place his hand against it, and close his eyes, as though he were probing for something.
Su Muchen was not sure what he was doing, but he did not dare make a sound and disturb him. After all, Xiao understood the door far better than he did.
A moment later, Xiao slowly opened his eyes and withdrew his hand.
“The door isn’t broken, and it isn’t closed. It’s just unstable. That’s very common.”
“All right…”
Hearing that answer, Su Muchen relaxed slightly. He still could not completely put his mind at ease, but there was nothing he could do about it either.
On the seventh day, Su Muchen decided to take action.
Not for the sake of the door, but for Xia Lanshi’s letter.
He read through the sheet of paper containing his battle plan once more.
He confirmed that he had mentally rehearsed every step at least three times.
Then he tore the paper into pieces, flushed them down the toilet to destroy the evidence, and turned around to walk to the front counter.
Xiao placed the freshly brewed coffee in front of him, then walked over to the window and sat down.
He had chosen an excellent position. With half his back turned toward the shop, he could observe the movements behind him through the reflection in the window glass while also keeping a clear watch on the black sedan parked at the entrance of Changning Alley.
Sunlight slanted in through the window, falling across the wooden floor. Returning Dust Hall was so quiet that it seemed like a forgotten island.
Su Muchen stood behind the counter for a moment before secretly stealing a glance at Xiao.
At that moment, Xiao had turned slightly to one side, exposing his right shoulder and back.
His defenses were completely open.
It was the perfect opportunity.
—Plan A begins.
He took a deep breath and reached for the cup of coffee on the table.
Too hot.
He lowered his head, added two ice cubes, then poured in a little cold water, bringing the temperature down to the point where an “accidental spill” would not actually cause a burn.
He had never done anything like this before.
Even though the other person was his own cousin, and even though he was only doing this to fulfill Xia Lanshi’s request, his heart was still beating so fast it felt as though it might leap straight out of his throat.
He picked up the coffee and walked toward the window.
“Are they still watching from outside?”
Su Muchen pretended to ask casually. At the same time, he watched Xiao’s reaction while subtly adjusting his footsteps, searching for the best angle.
“Mm.”
Xiao answered with a quiet sound, his gaze still fixed on the car at the entrance of the alley. His posture was relaxed, as though he were completely defenseless.
Su Muchen moved closer.
One step.
Two steps.
He timed it perfectly.
His wrist “accidentally” tilted.
The entire cup of coffee spilled.
The brown liquid traced an arc through the air before splashing precisely across Xiao’s back.
From his shoulder blade, it spread all the way down toward his waist and abdomen.
The thin black shirt was instantly soaked through, clinging to his skin and outlining the muscles of his back.
Xiao looked down at his miserable state, then raised his head and looked at Su Muchen.
“Muan?”
“Sorry, my hand slipped.”
Su Muchen’s tone was calm. He even managed to squeeze out an innocent expression, while the corner of his eye remained fixed on the section of fabric soaked through with coffee.
The shirt clung tightly to him, but because it was black, nothing could be made out clearly through the wet fabric.
Su Muchen’s gaze swept over Xiao’s back.
He was so focused that he failed to notice the faint smile curling at the corner of Xiao’s lips.
“I’ll go upstairs and rinse off.”
Xiao stood up, his tone so calm that it was suspicious.
He said nothing else. He did not even complain about having coffee spilled all over him. He simply turned and walked toward the stairs.
Su Muchen suppressed that trace of guilt in his heart and calmly said,
“Mm. Take your time.”
After Xiao went upstairs, Su Muchen waited at the foot of the stairs for several breaths. Once he confirmed that the sound of running water had come from upstairs, he took a deep breath and began creeping up the stairs.
—Execute Plan B.
The stairs in Returning Dust Hall were wooden. They were old, and the gaps between the boards had already become loose.
The moment he placed his first foot on one, the wooden board immediately let out a loud creak—
Sharp and distinct, like someone dragging a rusty violin through the silence.
Su Muchen froze completely, his heart instantly rising into his throat.
He remained frozen in the motion of stepping up, like a statue whose pause button had been pressed, holding his breath as he listened for movement upstairs.
The sound of water continued without any change.
Only then did he slowly exhale and continue climbing.
Second step, third step…
Every step made the staircase emit a low, hoarse groan, as though it were protesting against this unqualified intruder.
Su Muchen could not help cursing inwardly.
Was this staircase doing it on purpose?
Clearly, when Xiao had gone upstairs, it had not made a single sound!
After much difficulty, he slowly climbed to the second floor, his toes finally touching the floor.
The door to Xiao’s lounge was ajar, and warm yellow light spilled through the gap.
The sound of water came from inside, trickling steadily, sounding as though someone was washing.
Su Muchen pressed his ear against the door to confirm what was happening inside.
The water continued to run, a steady stream without interruption.
Excellent.
He gently pushed the door open.
The old hinges immediately let out a long, thin—
“Screeeech—!”
Su Muchen: “…”
He closed his eyes speechlessly.
But then he thought about it.
The sound of the water in the bathroom was so loud that Xiao definitely could not hear it.
So he pushed the door open another crack and squeezed inside sideways.
Then he froze.
Xiao was not in the bathroom at all.
He had merely turned on the faucet and was now leaning against the window, arms crossed, calmly watching the doorway.
The shirt that had been splashed with coffee was still on him. Two buttons at the collar were undone, and the soaked fabric clung to his collarbone and chest.
And there was a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his lips.
“Muan.”
His voice was languid, but there was a hint of danger in his narrowed eyes.
“Are you planning to attack your cousin?”
Su Muchen froze in the doorway.
His mind raced, but he found that every excuse collapsed under Xiao’s gaze.
“No, no,” he said with an awkward laugh, forcing himself to make something up. “I just remembered that the coffee was a little hot. I was worried that you might have been burned, so I came up to check whether your back was red or swollen.”
Xiao narrowed his eyes, his smile deepening.
“Oh? Check your back?”
“Yes.” Su Muchen nodded calmly. “I’m a doctor, after all. Caring about the health of the staff is only natural.”
Xiao looked at him for a long time.
So long that Su Muchen almost thought he was going to throw him out of the second-floor window.
Then Xiao suddenly laughed.
The smile was not deep, but it carried the calmness of someone who knew everything and simply had no intention of saying so.
“It’s fine,” he drawled. “That coffee was pretty warm.”
Su Muchen: “…”
He suddenly had the feeling that Xiao could see straight through him.
But Su Muchen did not give up.
After finding an excuse to go downstairs, he readjusted his breathing.
He decided to execute “Plan C.”
Since a sneak attack would not work, he would switch to a legitimate reason.
He opened the computer, quickly created an employee health examination form, listed more than a dozen examination items, printed it out, and waited for Xiao.
When Xiao came downstairs, he had changed into a clean black shirt.
His long black hair was still wet and hanging loose, with cold droplets of water dripping from the ends. He had only used a towel to dry most of it before leaving the rest to air-dry naturally.
Usually, he kept his hair tied in a low ponytail. Now that it hung loose around him, Su Muchen had the strange feeling that he was seeing a completely different side of him.
At that moment, Xiao seemed less like “the shop assistant at Returning Dust Hall” and more like “the gatekeeper of an ancient sect.”
Unlike his usual lazy, relaxed demeanor, there was a faint sense of danger emanating from him.
But for Xia Lanshi’s sake, Su Muchen still gathered his courage and walked toward Xiao with a stethoscope in hand.
“Xiao.”
“Mm?” Xiao raised his eyes and looked at Su Muchen.
“Today is Returning Dust Hall’s employee health examination day.” Su Muchen placed the form in front of him. “According to regulations, all employees must undergo a basic physical examination at least once a year. You’re a shop assistant, so you’re no exception.”
When Su Muchen took out the examination form, Xiao merely glanced down at it before raising an eyebrow.
The list of examination items was neatly arranged—
Temperature, blood pressure, heart rate, auscultation, skin examination.
It looked quite legitimate.
“You’re not even a properly practicing doctor, and you haven’t officially opened your practice,” Xiao said.
The words struck Su Muchen right in the heart.
Although he had a medical license, he had yet to complete his professional registration, and the hospitals had consequently shut their doors to him.
“Anyway, today is the examination.”
Su Muchen did not care about any of that anymore. He was going to carry it out today, to fulfill Xia Lanshi’s request.
Xiao looked at him as though he were watching a carefully rehearsed but glaringly flawed one-man show.
After a moment, he sighed, as if saying, “Fine, I’ll play along with you to the end.”
“All right.”
Su Muchen seriously began conducting a physical health examination on him, carefully recording each measurement and result on the form.
Then he put on the stethoscope and urged Xiao,
“Take it off.”
Xiao sighed helplessly and stood up. He pulled the hem of his shirt out from the waistband of his pants, moving neither hurriedly nor slowly, as though deliberately dragging out the time.
Then he took off his shirt and draped it over the back of the chair, revealing his lean upper body.
His skin was very fair, and his muscles were well-proportioned, as though he exercised regularly but rarely spent time in the sun.
Su Muchen’s gaze quickly swept over him to confirm everything, careful not to arouse Xiao’s suspicion.
Below the right shoulder blade, on both sides of the spine, along the waist, and across the center of his back, there were no marks or scars at all.
However, just now, though he did not know whether he had seen it incorrectly—
For an instant, he seemed to have seen a tiny, extremely faint patch of pink beneath the right shoulder blade.
Like a birthmark.
Or perhaps merely an illusion caused by the light.
Su Muchen thought his eyes were playing tricks on him and looked several more times. Yet that patch of skin was completely clean, with nothing there.
He had originally wanted to confirm it through palpation, but he was afraid Xiao would become suspicious, so he could only calmly place the stethoscope against him.
“Take a deep breath.”
Xiao cooperatively inhaled, his chest rising and falling slightly.
“Again.”
Xiao took another breath.
“All right.” Su Muchen withdrew the stethoscope and casually wrote a few things on the form. “Cardiopulmonary function is normal.”
Although it was only a basic examination, Xiao’s body was not merely healthy. It was even healthier than his own, despite being a doctor.
Except for that ring of black markings on his hand.
Xiao leisurely put his shirt back on, fastening the buttons one by one.
“Doctor Su, is the examination finished?”
“Finished.”
“Then can I continue working?”
“Yes.”
Xiao turned and walked toward the counter, his footsteps light and carefree, as though nothing had happened.
Su Muchen remained where he was, watching his back.
Even though he had personally confirmed it just now, an indescribable strange feeling still surfaced in his chest.
—The person Xia Lanshi was looking for was not Xiao.
There was no knife scar on his back.
No flower-shaped mark.
There was not even any discoloration or changes in skin texture commonly seen after repairing extensive injuries.
If he had truly suffered such a serious injury, even with medical restoration, it would be difficult to completely erase every trace.
Everything was clean to the point of near perfection.
And precisely because it was too perfect, it instead caused an indescribable sense of dissonance to arise in Su Muchen’s heart.
Su Muchen knew he should trust what his eyes had seen, yet he did not know why.
Instead, he became even more suspicious.
His intuition told him—
Xiao seemed to have deliberately let him look just now.
If Xiao was not the person Xia Lanshi was searching for, then who was the person in Xia Lanshi’s memories?
Why did Xiao repeatedly step in to save him? Was it merely because, whenever the door opened, he happened to be “right beside him”?
He could not figure it out, but none of these were questions he should continue pursuing.
At least for now, he had fulfilled Xia Lanshi’s request.