Love on the Turquoise Land

Lü Xian was taken aback. "Didn't you leave? Why are you back?"

Yan Tuo stepped out of the elevator and countered, "Go where?"

The more, the merrier. Lü Xian invited him, "We're going for a massage. Come on, let's all go together. A Peng's treating."

The elevator doors closed again, but fortunately, there was no one else in the building, so it remained stopped on the third floor. A Peng reached out to reopen it, laughing, "With the big boss here, is it appropriate for me to pay? I'm not even worthy."

Everyone burst into laughter.

Yan Tuo, his face cold, grabbed Lü Xian's arm and said to A Peng, "You guys go ahead. I have some accounts to settle with him."

Before Lü Xian could figure out what was happening, he was dragged toward the door, stumbling and stammering, "Hey, hey, what's going on..."

A Peng and the others exchanged glances as the two reached the entrance and entered the room, the door slamming shut behind them.

Someone must have pressed the button again, as the elevator doors reopened, and the group quickly piled in.

As the doors closed, one of them muttered, "He bought us breakfast this morning. I thought the big boss was easygoing. Who knew he could look so scary when he's angry."

A Peng cleared his throat. "That's how leaders should be—friendly when it's time to be friendly, and authoritative when it's time to be authoritative. That's the wisdom of leadership."

Lü Xian staggered into the room, utterly confused.

The room was quiet. Yan Tuo asked, "Where's Tian Xiang?"

Lü Xian gestured toward the opposite room. "It wasn't a life-threatening injury. Once he stabilized, he was moved to the other room."

"So this room is empty now?"

"Empty? Aren't you and I people?"

Yan Tuo crouched down, carefully laying the suitcase flat before quickly unlocking and opening it. "Save her."

Lü Xian's question of "Save who?" died on his lips.

Inside the suitcase lay a young woman, her long hair disheveled, her face as pale as paper, and her body covered in blood. It was impossible to tell if she was alive or dead. Her left arm was bent at an unnatural angle.

Yan Tuo reached in to lift her, not looking up. "I know we should avoid moving her, but there's no choice... I did some basic first aid to stop the bleeding, but I'm not skilled enough. It probably wasn't enough. You need to—"

He paused, realizing Lü Xian was frozen in place, and roared, "Are you fucking stupid? Save her!"

Lü Xian snapped out of his daze.

When Lü Xian worked at the hospital, the operating room had many rules—thorough sterilization, limited personnel, no patient clothing allowed, floors cleaned with chlorine-based disinfectants at least twice a day...

But in these underground setups, many rules were loosely followed. Xiong Hei and his crew didn't care—some even wanted to stay and film. Over time, Lü Xian had grown less strict.

After donning sterile gowns, caps, and masks, Lü Xian shooed Yan Tuo out. "Get out. The operating room needs a sterile environment. I'll administer anesthesia first."

At this point, what did sterile even matter? Nie Jiuluo's clothes were probably covered in bacteria.

Yan Tuo seethed inwardly but kept his complaints to himself. In the operating room, the doctor was in charge. Even if Lü Xian told him to crawl out, he'd have to crawl.

Yan Tuo strode out, about to close the door, when he heard Lü Xian call, "Yan Tuo!"

Something in his tone made Yan Tuo freeze. He turned back.Lü Xian had been bending over to perform chest compressions, but now he straightened up, his eyes still fixed on Nie Jiuluo. "She's stopped breathing."

Her chest wasn't rising anymore.

Yan Tuo’s mind buzzed, and he cursed, "Bullshit! Just now she was still—"

Mid-sentence, he couldn’t even remember how long ago "just now" had been. He strode to the operating table and held a hand tentatively over Nie Jiuluo’s mouth and nose. In his haste, he couldn’t tell if there was any breath, only that her lips were still warm—not cold.

As long as they weren’t cold, there was hope.

He glared at Lü Xian. "Give her an intracardiac injection! Adrenaline or atropine—whatever! And the defibrillator, isn’t there a defibrillator?"

Strangely enough, these were all things he’d picked up from casual conversations with Lü Xian before. Normally, he’d never remember any of it, but right now, his mind was crystal clear, and he even recited the medical terms flawlessly.

Lü Xian muttered, "The defibrillator… she’s got multiple external injuries, still bleeding. Risk of electric leakage. Intracardiac injections are dangerous, rarely used now, and the effectiveness isn’t—"

Yan Tuo cut him off. "More dangerous than death?"

Usually, Lü Xian seemed professional and decisive, but today, the more Yan Tuo looked at him, the more useless he appeared. Furious, Yan Tuo snapped, "Who’s the doctor here, you or me? Do I have to teach you emergency procedures? And you—"

His gaze landed on Nie Jiuluo’s tight-fitting tactical suit, and his anger flared even hotter. "Why the hell didn’t you cut this off her? It’s squeezing her chest so tight, even if she had breath, it’d be crushed out of her!"

Lü Xian had no choice but to turn and prepare the injections and equipment.

Yan Tuo grabbed a pair of surgical scissors nearby, lifted the collar of Nie Jiuluo’s suit, and snipped downward in one swift motion. Halfway through, he grew impatient with the slow progress and simply tore the fabric apart with both hands— riip .

Her abdomen was smeared with blood, nearly fused with the fabric. At least two gunshot wounds, two dark, gaping holes.

With the suit cut open, her sports bra was exposed. The sight of that high-support, compression-style bra made Yan Tuo grit his teeth. Without a second thought, he raised the scissors again— snip . She’s not even breathing, and she’s still wearing this high-support, restrictive crap!

To be fair, it wasn’t Nie Jiuluo’s fault. She had changed into it in the taxi for ease of movement during combat.

As the scissors sliced through, Yan Tuo suddenly realized how inappropriate this was. When the connecting strap of the bra’s cup snapped open, he instinctively moved to cover her, but the moment his hand touched her, he felt something full and soft sink into his palm.

His mind blanked. Mortified, he didn’t know whether to pull his hand away or leave it there. The operating room was a mess, and so was he.

On the other side, Lü Xian had finished preparing and was approaching. At this life-or-death moment, there was no time for propriety. Yan Tuo hastily gathered the cut fabric and draped it loosely over her.

But Lü Xian wasn’t concerned with such things. To him, the operating table held only a patient—a body—regardless of gender, age, or appearance.

Still hesitant about using the defibrillator, he first disinfected the skin around Nie Jiuluo’s chest.

Yan Tuo turned his face away, catching only a glimpse of Lü Xian administering the injection from the corner of his eye.

Time suddenly stretched unbearably long. Yan Tuo didn’t know if she would wake after the injection, or how long it would take. If she’s going to wake up, it should be soon. If not… then never.

He stared blankly at an empty corner of the operating room. From the sounds of it, Lü Xian had resumed compressions—one, two.

Then, in an instant, he heard a faint, rasping gasp escape Nie Jiuluo’s throat.Lü Xian let out a long breath and took two steps back. With no nurse to wipe his sweat, he tilted his head back, trying to let the sweat flow backward and be absorbed by his hair and surgical cap.

Yan Tuo turned around sharply, his gaze immediately landing on Nie Jiuluo’s right hand resting on the edge of the operating table. Her right arm wasn’t injured—it was intact. The fingertips of her right hand were twitching uncontrollably, as if desperately trying to grasp something.

Yan Tuo bent down, enveloping her hand in his palm and gripping it tightly. “Miss Nie?”

Her hand finally stilled, lying almost lifelessly in his grasp, her fingertips cold. The veins on her pale hand appeared faintly visible—Yan Tuo tightened his grip. If life force could be transferred through such a clasp, he would gladly share some of his with her.

Coming to his senses, Lü Xian shooed him away. “Get out! I’ve just started—I told you the surgery requires a sterile environment! Do you want her to die?”

Back in the hospital, no surgeries allowed family members to be present, no matter what promises they made—offering extra money, wearing sterile gowns, masks, and gloves, standing silently in a corner—none of it was permitted.

Lü Xian had once thought it unnecessary: just let them in if they’re willing to pay, the hospital could even make extra money. As long as proper precautions were taken, it would be no different from having a human-shaped instrument standing by.

Now he understood—absolutely no exceptions. Damn, that earlier shout had nearly stunned him.

Yan Tuo left the operating room and first rummaged through Lü Xian’s room, soaking his phone in water and pocketing the door keys hanging by the entrance. Finally, he opened the fridge, grabbed a beer, and sat at the dining table to wait.

From this angle, he could see the tightly shut door of the operating room—just a door, no indicator light. In truth, even a “Surgery in Progress” light wouldn’t be enough. What he really needed was a progress bar, something to show the percentage completed. At least then, the wait wouldn’t feel endless.

Right now, there were too many things demanding his attention.

The needle that needed to be delivered into Gou Ya’s body, Jiang Baichuan, and the three diggers heading for the farm—he didn’t know if their rush was related to the “death sentence” Lin Ling had overheard.

As for the well house, he’d only done some quick cover-ups and temporary fixes. He was waiting for nightfall to properly handle the aftermath.

But he couldn’t leave. Nie Jiuluo’s fate was still uncertain—he couldn’t leave.

All he could do was wait. His mind was too chaotic to focus on anything. He tried to analyze or plan, but couldn’t settle his thoughts. Eventually, he opened his phone and searched for terms like “surgery,” “intracardiac injection,” and “how dangerous is a gunshot to the abdomen,” clicking through the results one by one. He recognized the words, but strung together, they made little sense to him.

By chance, he stumbled upon a forum post about surgeries. One reply mentioned that during a loved one’s operation, the person outside silently recited Buddhist scriptures over and over, praying for their loved one and calming their own mind.

Yan Tuo thought this was a good idea. He searched online for the full text of the Diamond Sutra, found paper and a pen, and began copying it word by word.

The scripture was relatively obscure—some characters he didn’t recognize, some phrases he couldn’t even parse properly. Lines like “develop the mind of Anuttara-samyak-sambodhi” or “whether with perception, without perception, or with neither perception nor non-perception.” But this suited him perfectly. His mind was a mess right now—copying meaningful sentences would only distract him further.

He had no idea how long he’d been copying when someone knocked on the door. Yan Tuo set down his pen and went to answer, his face expressionless.Outside the door was A Peng. Seeing Yan Tuo's expression, he felt a bit uneasy but still forced a smile. "Yan... Mr. Yan, you wanted to settle accounts with Lü Xian. Everything alright?"

Yan Tuo replied, "It's fine. His piece-of-crap car almost got me killed. Just settling the score."

A Peng suddenly understood—no wonder Yan Tuo had turned back halfway. He had borrowed Lü Xian's car. "Almost got me killed"—did that mean the car was faulty and nearly caused an accident?

He tried to mediate. "Luckily nothing happened, Mr. Yan. It's your good fortune, and by extension, you saved Lü Xian's life... We packed some takeout. Want to join us?"

Yan Tuo: "No, I’ll eat out later."

After dismissing A Peng, he returned to the table and continued copying scriptures.

The Diamond Sutra had over five thousand characters. By the time he reached the beginning of the second copy, the operating room door opened.

Lü Xian stepped out, leaning against the doorframe. He pulled off his mask, then tugged his cap down.

Yan Tuo glanced up. "She dead?"

Lü Xian was speechless. After a pause, he snapped, "I can’t say for sure yet. She needs observation! At least twenty-four hours."

Yan Tuo walked toward him.

Lü Xian thought he was going to say something, but Yan Tuo kept closing the distance until he suddenly grabbed Lü Xian’s collar and shoved him against the wall.

This was beyond bizarre. Ever since Yan Tuo had left and then returned, he’d been acting like a man possessed. Lü Xian rolled his eyes. "What, you gonna pin me against the wall now?"

Yan Tuo’s mind was in turmoil.

The situation was critical. He had to prepare for the worst.

Could Lü Xian be trusted? Was he one of them ?

But Nie Jiuluo wasn’t out of danger yet—he still needed Lü Xian.

Lü Xian had handled critical patients before. He could downplay this and muddle through for now.

Yan Tuo smirked, released him, and even smoothed Lü Xian’s collar before leaning in close to his ear. "This is top secret. Not finished yet. Lives are at stake—don’t breathe a word to anyone."

Lü Xian shoved him away irritably. "Back off. I’m straight."

Then he added, "I get it. The person was brought in a box—you think I don’t know?"

Good that he understood. Yan Tuo gestured toward the opposite room. "Not a word. Swallow it. From now on, no one enters that room."

Lü Xian gave him a sidelong glance. "They hardly ever come in here anyway... Who is that woman?"

He could tell Yan Tuo was unusually invested in her.

Yan Tuo didn’t answer, just stared.

Lü Xian felt unnerved under his gaze. "Fine, fine. No questions asked."

Yan Tuo nodded toward the operating room. "I’m carrying germs. Can I go see her?"

Lü Xian was at a loss for words. Nie Jiuluo’s surgery wasn’t the kind prone to infection or complications, like brain surgery. Plus, his clinic didn’t even have a proper ICU—so-called "sterile conditions" were barely achievable here.

But he still retorted, "Then why not not carry germs? We’ve got sterile gowns, masks, caps, shoe covers—can’t you wear them?"

Yan Tuo grunted in acknowledgment and, under Lü Xian’s watchful eye, actually went to suit up.

Compared to earlier, the operating room was now spotless. Piles of bloodied disinfectant wipes, cotton balls, even Nie Jiuluo’s coat and shoes had been sealed in plastic bags.Nie Jiuluo lay quietly on the table, her face pale and lips tinged with gray, covered by a green surgical drape.

Fortunately, she was breathing. The drape rose and fell faintly with the rhythm of her body.

Yan Tuo lifted the drape and gave her a quick glance.

Her abdomen was thickly wrapped in bandages, coiled securely layer by layer. Her left arm was also fitted with a splint. Behind him, Lü Xian suddenly poked his head in as if remembering something: "Oh, right—about her arm, don’t cast it yet. There might be comminuted fractures or poorly aligned fracture lines. Better take her to a major hospital for a check. My equipment isn’t precise enough for that."

Yan Tuo lowered the drape and stepped back.

Lü Xian had already changed out of his gear and was washing his hands in the bathroom. Yan Tuo walked over and leaned against the doorframe. "I’m heading out to buy her some clothes."

Lü Xian gave a noncommittal hum.

"And… I owe you an apology."

Lü Xian lifted his chin arrogantly. "For treating this doctor so rudely earlier?"

Yan Tuo pointed at the closed toilet lid. "No. Just now, I was bored and started playing a game on your phone. Then my hand slipped..."

Lü Xian’s face twisted in horror. He rushed over and yanked the lid open—damn it, it was true. His phone was wedged at the bottom of the siphon, completely waterlogged and lifeless.

Yan Tuo said, "So I’ll grab you a new one while I’m out. Don’t worry—I always pay back silver with gold. If it’s too late to buy one tonight, I’ll definitely get it for you tomorrow. Later."

Without waiting for Lü Xian’s reaction, he strode out the door. As it clicked shut, he inserted the key, twisted it, and locked it from the outside.