In Hu Xiu's memory, her father was a thief. From her recollections at three or four years old, the first thing she did upon waking was to search for her father.
The room was always noisy—either with piano sounds or arguments. The occasional silence felt more terrifying than any noise.
Yet she would still reach out to grab her father's ears. When he sat on the bed, his earlobes were the softest part of him she could touch by standing up. By five or six, she first discovered she could forget things too—the blue bunny handkerchief she thought was on the green washing machine was actually in the bedside drawer.
She never dared to actually place anything in that drawer, because it was where her father kept his harmonica, immaculately clean. At eleven, she liked her first boy—a soccer player who got pinned against the door by a mischievous, outgoing girl, ordered to clean before he could leave. During the playful struggle, Hu Xiu wanted the girl to let him go, but the boy never even glanced at her. When her grades slipped, her father assumed she was puppy-love and sent her to a private middle school. Around fourteen or fifteen, she experienced her first menstrual cramps, sitting at the piano with a dragging pain in her lower abdomen. Seeing her squirm, her father said for the first time: "You're just like your mother."
It felt as if her father had stolen all the beautiful things from her dreams.
In her haze, she lifted her head to see her father throwing things from the balcony. In their Nanjing home, the balcony was actually a corridor. Her mother's potted plants came crashing down, flowerpots shattering below with heavy, dull thuds—she almost thought her mother had been thrown to her death.
When her mother rushed out, quilts, clothes, books, vases... everything transformed in mid-air before landing, all rendered unrecognizable by mud. Everything her father chose to destroy became irreparable. One had to admit, this decade-long revenge was meticulously planned.
Her fiancé's expression seemed like a smile, but more like relief. Suddenly, the objects falling from the sky changed—translation materials, computers, the already-torn Marriage Certificate that had been stuck on the wall, and Diao Zhiyu's precious camera...
Diao Zhiyu standing beside her seemed to be smiling too.
"Stop stealing things from my dreams!"
She jolted upright. The small television in front was still playing a variety show. Diao Zhiyu held a fruit knife, a large bowl of kiwifruit beside him: "Are you okay?"
Shaking her head slightly, Hu Xiu slowly turned to look at the wall. Everything was there—the Marriage Certificate too, and Diao Zhiyu before her. Staring at his face, she almost couldn't remember who he was in her daze.
She had just dreamed of the night her father threw out her mother's belongings. She was twenty-six then, returning home to get her household register, as if completing some major life ritual.
Now sitting on the bed, she watched Diao Zhiyu's curious expression as he set aside the knife and reached to feel her forehead.
His hand was warm, warmer than her own forehead. The Diao Zhiyu in her dream—the one who looked relieved as belongings fell from the sky—was all false.
Sitting in heart-pounding silence for a minute, she finally whispered, "I had a nightmare."
"You've been too stressed from studying," Diao Zhiyu sat by the bed. "I told you not to pressure yourself so much. Many people take the exam with just CET-4 or CET-6 level English. You're from the Advanced Translation Institute—you don't really need this certificate."
"Hmm..."
"Why not take some time to relax? You haven't updated your Bilibili lecture videos in ages."
"I need to study. Editing videos takes too long.""I'll cut it. Come on, there's no need to be so tightly wound. I've never seen you this stressed since I met you.
Your current state is like driving yourself crazy first before taking the exam—if this is what a career looks like, it's better not to have one."
"After all, I don't have a job now... Back at the hospital, I had a steady salary and was busy every day.
Even though it was just paperwork, filling out forms, and booking flights, it was still a visible support...
Now I receive materials to prepare, then go do interpretation. Whenever I have free time, I worry about falling off track..."
"Let me ask you..." Diao Zhiyu straightened up seriously, adopting an interrogative posture, though the bowl of kiwifruit in his hands was a bit out of place.
"When you were at the hospital, how many interpretation jobs did you take per week?"
"Two, occasionally three or four for short ones..."
"And now?"
"About twelve per month..."
"The income isn't different, right? If you were busy at work and too tired to move on weekends, you'd probably earn even less than now."
"Right..." Hu Xiu thought for a moment: "Well, not exactly. Before, during those eight weekends of Shanghai Bund, I not only spent eight thousand but also lost eight thousand—sixteen thousand in total, inside and out."
Diao Zhiyu tilted his head looking at her: "Wasn't getting a boyfriend back enough compensation?"
"Not enough. Just thinking that this amounts to three months' rent makes my heart bleed."
"No kiwifruit for you then, boyfriend-branded." Hu Xiu went to grab the kiwifruit from the bowl. Diao Zhiyu leaned back to avoid her, but she stepped on his slipper and ended up sitting on his lap.
Pushing and shoving, they both stuffed their mouths with kiwifruit, laughing so hard it nearly spilled from the corners, embarrassingly tickling each other until they almost toppled over.
With the boy's strong arm around her waist, she noticed something odd about how Diao Zhiyu felt beneath her: "Do you still have keys in your pocket?"
"Feel again."
"Pervert!"
"My fault? You're the one who climbed on."
"You young people are just too vigorous. If this continues, your acting range will narrow—you won't be able to play many Roles, you know?"
"Like what?"
"Monks, Liu Xiahui, Sakyamuni, Sun Wukong!"
"Well, there are plenty I can play too. Ximen Qing, Wei Xiaobao, I can do them all.
Besides, do I look that lustful? Weren't you the one who used to think my Qin Xiaoyi was both sexy and abstinent?"
Climbing back onto the bed to fetch a book, she was playfully bumped by Diao Zhiyu as he stood up.
Blushing, Hu Xiu turned around pretending to hit him: "I warn you, I need to study. If you sneak attack me again, I'll execute you on the spot.Diao Zhiyu fell back and said: "Come on, do me.""
Hu Xiu rode on him tickling—this large camel, astonishing in looks and extraordinary in build, had only one weakness:
Not a single part of him was immune to tickling. The slightest touch would make him surrender immediately.
How did he endure that lick back then? Mid-frolic, Diao Zhiyu suddenly pulled her close, his handsome nose touching hers: "Live with me."
Hu Xiu shrank back an inch, but he seemed to notice and tightened his grip, preventing her escape.
She smelled the tart scent of kiwifruit. The young boy's cheeks and lips were even juicier than the fruit.
"On weekdays I'm out shooting, weekends I go to Shanghai Bund—we barely have time to see each other. Only once or twice a week, I can't stand it."
"But...""You don't need to pay rent. I can afford to support you—don't underestimate your top-ranked NPC boyfriend."
She stared at him blankly, suddenly finding it hard to articulate a reason for refusal.
Without giving Diao Zhiyu a definite answer, Hu Xiu went to the hospital for a meeting. It seemed that after leaving her job, her connection with the hospital had grown even stronger. The types of translations she handled had increased, and she was interacting with more departments.
Especially in the genetics department, Doctor Jin sent her materials almost daily, and her weekends were nearly fully booked with lectures.
As she entered the hospital, she saw the promotional photos Diao Zhiyu had taken still displayed on the bulletin board. Her expression in the white coat was different from usual—it did carry a certain sanctity.
After the meeting, she went to collect materials for the next session. Entering Doctor Jin's office, she watched as he tore open a cup of instant noodles and poured hot water into it within a minute, his fingers trembling slightly. Hu Xiu noticed this and pulled a cold bun from her bag, offering it to him. He hesitated for a second before politely accepting it and wolfing it down.
Unlike Pei Zhen, who focused mainly on surgeries, Doctor Jin handled numerous consultations. He spent most of his time in the lab conducting research and writing papers, all on cutting-edge projects in genetics that were progressing faster than those abroad, with exceptionally high impact factors. Most of his patients were couples struggling with infertility, and he encountered quite a few bizarre cases.
As she picked up the materials on the desk, Hu Xiu also pulled out a thick notebook. "I've prepared some questions."
"Xiao Pei actually never got annoyed by you back then?"
She was indeed being teased. Hu Xiu was also puzzled. "You're both around the same age, so why do you call him Xiao Pei, while he calls you Lao Jin…"
"I'm two years older. The Lab F4 was a specific year—I was in my third year of grad school, and he was in his first."
"Is he busy lately…"
"Lately? He's probably busy becoming a dad. He doesn’t even have time to see me anymore."
It felt like a bolt from the blue. Hu Xiu froze in place, turning to look at Doctor Jin, who met her shocked gaze without surprise. "Don’t look at me like that. It was quite sudden—I only found out a few days ago."
Pretending she wasn’t disappointed would be a lie. Hu Xiu reached for the files on the desk but fumbled several times without getting a firm grip. "It’s fine, I’m not that curious anyway…"
"Pei Zhen isn’t that petty, and he’s not short of people chasing after him. He won’t dwell on things with you.
It’s probably that graduate student who came back from the U.S. with Shen Zhimin recently. She’s tall, very pretty, and smart—often finding excuses to have Shen Zhimin set up meetings with him.
A while back, he was in a bad mood and kept watching 'Grey’s Anatomy.' The girl happened to have seen it too. One night, they went out throwing darts, drank too much after losing, and Pei Zhen ended up taking her home. The next thing I heard, he was getting married.
They registered for prenatal check-ups next door, so that’s pretty much the story. We’re all friends—you should know."
"Does Pei Zhen really like that girl?"
"You’ve already ended things, so don’t ask too much." Doctor Jin’s words were colder than expected. "People always move forward. The girl might have some tricks up her sleeve, and Xiao Pei doesn’t dislike her—it worked out perfectly for her.
I heard that when he found out about the pregnancy, he only thought for a few minutes before agreeing to take responsibility and decided to marry her."
"So soon…"
"Yeah, he said every day feels like a dream now—he can’t believe it’s real.
He told me before that he never wanted to fall in love again, couldn’t even be bothered to develop feelings, and just wanted to publish another paper in 'The New England Journal of Medicine.' But you see, sometimes God sneezes, and fate plays a joke."Hu Xiu had heard Pei Zhen mention that Jin Junming married young. While striving to become a doctor at Johns Hopkins in the U.S., he lived apart from his wife, who confessed to an affair—yet was five months pregnant with Doctor Jin’s child.
He abandoned his work overnight and rushed to Maryland. Half an hour from arrival in the early hours, his wife called: the baby was gone. "I don’t want it, and it probably didn’t want me either. Anyway—it’s over."
A few months can easily alter the course of a life.
Seeing Hu Xiu distraught, Doctor Jin seemed to want to comfort her but couldn’t think of a good way, so he simply opened his phone.
There were eight "Love Gathered, Gurgling New Life" groups, all full. Eager mothers shared blessings (and pregnancies), exchanged doctors’ schedules and medication dosages, waiting for that gurgle of hope in their wombs.
Behind this lay countless injections and surgeries—women exhausting their bodies for the sake of offspring.
Doctor Jin remarked, "If families struggling with infertility heard about someone like Xiao Pei stumbling into fatherhood by chance, they’d probably be furious enough to curse."
"But I feel lucky, even jealous. Not everyone gets such an opportunity so easily."
"Maybe to you it sounds like a loveless union, even a joke, right?"
"I might be saying too much, but for doctors, love itself is hard to attain. In the end, the path to happiness lies in finding a home."
Somewhat fastidious, Doctor Jin’s sweater was flecked with cat hair. Behind gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze held back words at the corner of his lips, saying no more.
The corners of his eyes drooped slightly, with faint nasolabial lines. A closer look revealed fragile, breakable eyes—not a particularly imposing man.
In his own story, Doctor Jin might just be a doctor whose name need not be remembered.
But to Pei Zhen, he was a brother of ten years, a comrade in the hospital, a researcher in infertility helping desperate families realize their dreams, and also someone who once sat together, unable to comfort each other through heartbreak, clinking glasses through the night.
Between such comrades, hearing the word "child" must feel like a slap—soul fragments shaken loose from the body.
Leaving the genetics building, Hu Xiu turned toward a convenience store, planning to eat and wait out the evening rush before heading home.
Holding her meal box, she watched passersby outside: hurried office workers, patients from the wards taking walks, those resting in the hospital after IVF procedures.
Tomato pork chop rice and yogurt had been her fresh joy after tiring of the hospital cafeteria, but now even that appetite faded.
Hearing that he was going to be a father, she found she couldn’t genuinely wish him well.
Especially near the hospital.
On her way to the subway, a taxi stopped in front of her. It was Pei Zhen. Strange—she’d seen him step out of cars many times, yet each time he seemed this impulsive and urgent, as if missing the moment would bring regret.
He emerged in a trench coat, holding a briefcase stuffed with documents: "Just the person I wanted to see—bumping into you here. Shen Zhimin’s onboarding is settled; she starts officially next week. The first session of the Mental Relief joint forum is out too—a special public-interest report on facial reconstruction and patients with congenital skeletal dysplasia, plus an online discussion with three U.S. universities. Do you have time to interpret?"A series of questions lingered in her mind for a long time, as if deciphering these few sentences required time. Pei Zhen waved his hand in front of her: "What's wrong with you?"
In that brief moment when their eyes met through his fingers, he understood. Adults grasp implications too quickly—one person’s hidden thoughts barely have time to conceal themselves before the other picks up on the subtle clues.
Her fingers tightened slightly before withdrawing into her trench coat. His previously cheerful inquiry turned into a cautious probe: "If you don’t have time, it’s fine. Your senior sister is at the hospital."
"It’s alright, I have time…"
In their exchange, both voices carried unspoken concerns. Hu Xiu desperately wanted to ask: When is the due date? What kind of girl is she? Do you truly love her? Does she resemble your ex-girlfriend?
But for Diao Zhiyu’s girlfriend, these weren’t questions to ask too directly—remaining friends after failing to become lovers is truly difficult.
Yet she was no longer the Hu Xiu of the past. Shaking her head and stretching, she pretended nothing had happened: "Sorry, I spaced out just now. Of course I’m willing to help more people outside the hospital. If it’s for charity, does that mean I’m also a volunteer?"
"Yes. But we’ll include credits. It could help with studying abroad or applying for specialized funding."
"No problem. If you need more hands, I can help spread the word."
"We’re actually quite short-staffed. This project just started, and because the target group is highly sensitive, medical resources are scarce. It’s hard to get hospital support—funding always prioritizes patients with worse economic conditions."
"Recently, a girl without a nose came in. She’d saved twenty thousand yuan hoping to reconstruct her nose."
"I applied for funding, but when psychological assistance was mentioned, everyone just sighed and moved on to other tasks."
"Everyone knows it’s essential, and they’re willing to donate time out of passion, but media coverage remains limited. Ultimately, turning these efforts into psychological education and group activities might be more effective."
He suddenly caught himself: "Am I being too serious? Explaining all this out of nowhere."
Speaking about healing and saving lives with such fervor, Hu Xiu wondered: Would he make a good father?
Perhaps Doctor Jin was right—for medical practitioners, the path to happiness isn’t romance, but finding their calling.
"Why do you keep spacing out? Did you hear something from Lao Jin?" He finally couldn’t hold back.
"No. I’ve been studying for the interpreter exam lately—I’m so tired I’m practically floating."
"Take care of yourself. I noticed long ago that you particularly like pushing yourself with all-nighters, even worse than me. Keeping this up long-term could lead to sudden death."
"It’s fine, just some heart palpitations—feeling a bit unsteady."
"See? Exactly." He crossed his arms, pointing at her like he used to when advising on her thesis: "After ten-hour surgeries, I feel the same—that dizzy sensation like standing on a cliff’s edge. Teacher Hu, I sincerely advise you to cherish your life. There’s still so much ahead."
"Don’t jinx it. You’ll definitely need my help in the future anyway."
"You must come this Saturday for the first session."
"No problem. I’ll head off now." She thought: I’ll have to cancel a Shanghai Jiao Tong University conference—eight thousand yuan gone. But if I can help others, it’s my duty.
Stealing a glance back, she saw Pei Zhen still standing there watching her. Turning around, she walked backward, bidding him farewell like friends joking around.Pei Zhen was amused into laughter, waving back along with her. That gaze seemed to hold gentle hands that once clasped her cold fingers, lifting them for a kiss; perhaps there were lips tentatively seeking closeness, just like the figure that leaned out of the rolled-down car window years ago; or maybe a desire to stand beside her again at REGARD, unwrapping gifts together, picking up his own present with wild joy; or perhaps that Marriage Certificate still held weight in his heart, and he longed to relive the happiness of signing it together.
She had never before deciphered so much yearning from a single glance—even if it was just her imagination, it didn’t matter.
After all, those eyes had once stirred ripples in her heart, making her wish for a temporary harbor in moments of weariness.
She stepped back to bid him farewell, while he remained rooted in place until she stepped onto the escalator, gradually carried out of view.
Her phone rang—it was her mother. Hu Xiu rarely received calls from her: “Hello?”
“Dingding, Mom’s in Nanjing. If there’s a chance, could I meet you in Shanghai?”
“Of course. Are you back for something?”
“To divorce your father. I’m getting married again.”
“You weren’t divorced…?”
“No. He refused to let me marry someone else. This trip will probably involve a few days of arguing with him, but don’t worry about it. Just wait for me to come to Shanghai—I’ve brought lots of gifts for you. Surprised?”
More than surprised. Hu Xiu watched blankly as the subway doors opened and closed, missing her stop. This was nothing short of a nightmare.
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