Back when He Dongli was in school, she would independently upload videos about suturing, burn treatment, and scar surgeries.
At that time, most were shared among peers to improve their skills.
After officially starting work, she reported this to her department.
Zhao Zhenzhen thought these videos were meaningful, so she became a key figure managing their department’s social media presence.
That day, He Dongli uploaded an educational video about surgical magnifying glasses.
In the video, she wore scrubs and a surgical cap, holding the indispensable tool that every plastic surgeon needs.
She explained how the magnifying glass can enlarge the surgical field and showed some practical photos of surgeons wearing these glasses during operations.
Although she used a lot of technical jargon, over half the comments praised her appearance, saying serious women are the most charming—handsomeness is truly a feeling.
He Dongli didn’t have time to read the comments.
After handing over her shift and checking on patients, she immediately went into the operating room.
Today, she teamed up with Lao Lu for an abdominal wall repair.
Lü Chunliu looked at He Dongli in her full uniform and teased, “I saw you this morning when you came in, dressed so nicely—were you going to a wedding?”
Before He Dongli could respond, Lao Lu added, “Or maybe you made progress with Director Yao’s second son’s matchmaking?”
He Dongli thought this world was like a cracked wall that attracts dust.
She denied both—no wedding to attend, no matchmaking progress.
She was certain that Liang Jianxing wouldn’t seek her out anymore.
As for dressing nicely today, He Dongli said, “When you’re feeling down, you have to take care of yourself. That way, energy is conserved.”
Lao Lu’s son had recently been watching Journey to the West and joked that He Dongli’s mentality was like that snake spirit who drank human blood to stay youthful.
He Dongli was curious, “Which episode? I don’t remember that.”
Lao Lu teased, “Are you serious? Just admit it honestly—what exactly are you doing here in China?”
The others waiting to scrub in all laughed.
He Dongli really had no memory of that plot. But as she entered the operating room to put on her sterile gown, Lao Lu’s teasing words made her think of something else.
The first time Zong Chi ate Yu Xiaohan’s cooking, he held chopsticks in his left hand but used his right hand to pick up the food.
Yu Xiaohan, who had taken back the bone dish, saw this and hurriedly placed the food back on the chopsticks before offering it to him.
Before returning to S City, Yu Xiaohan quietly asked He Dongli, “Is he not Chinese?”
He Dongli thought her mother’s imagination was incredible and asked why she would ask that.
Yu Xiaohan replied traditionally, “Nothing, it’s just that I don’t want to find a foreign son-in-law. Different nationalities really are different. There’s a saying: ‘Those not of our tribe have different hearts.’”
He Dongli laughed and reassured her mother, “Don’t worry. He’s with his mother, holds a Hong Kong Passport, and is a genuine Chinese.”
The abdominal wall repair surgery lasted nearly seven hours.
When He Dongli stepped down as the first assistant, she immediately collapsed onto a bench in the changing room.
She always kept supplies in her locker: glucose, hazelnut coffee candy, and bananas.
This bunch of bananas came from when she and Jiang Xingyuan bought a fruit basket as a gift.
After picking all sorts of varieties, the last bunch wouldn’t fit, so Jiang Xingyuan told her to take it back to the hospital.
She lay on the bench, eating a banana, while her colleague called her to eat.
She only responded but didn’t move.
Her phone was flooded with WeChat messages.
He Dongli picked out the important ones to reply to first.
Among them, Yu Xiaohan asked when Xixi would have time to come home for a meal; she had gotten some wild eel and wanted to make eel shredded kidney noodles.
Zou Yan asked, “When are you free? I want to treat you to a meal.”
As new messages kept appearing, one message was already buried near the bottom.
Yesterday, Jiang Xingyuan called He Dongli after returning, saying things were going smoothly and that Young Master Zong was quite a big shot—she almost didn’t get to see him.
Fortunately, Jiang Xingyuan kept a backup plan and brought a so-called souvenir.
The old acquaintances still remembered his preferences, so that sly man had to be secretly pleased.
Jiang Xingyuan continued, saying she wasn’t the type to take advantage of others but genuinely wanted to treat Zong Chi and his secretary to dinner.
She whispered to He Dongli that the secretary was ultra-‘A’—with an elite, world-weary face, fitting Jiang’s stereotype of these B-king young masters’ hires.
The secretary even lent her a sanitary pad when she was on her period.
He Dongli only then realized the secretary was female.
Jiang Xingyuan went on, saying Zong Chi’s hints were clear: she could skip the solo invitation but might consider He Dongli accompanying him.
In the end, He Dongli declined.
She advised Jiang Xingyuan that it didn’t matter—focusing on writing their articles well was more important.
That man…wasn’t lacking food to eat.
No need to feel burdened.
If she owed anyone, she could just owe him.
Late at night, He Dongli received a new friend request with an avatar of Conan Edogawa.
Although the WeChat ID was different, that avatar was unmistakable.
When he actually sent a message, it was almost eleven o’clock.
He Dongli gratefully replied to his first message but didn’t respond to the second.
If possible, she thought, just let her not want that pearl earring anymore.
Just like she refused Jiang Xingyuan’s invitation to accompany her: that year by the swimming pool was her own mistake.
This time, she would treat it like a wrong answer in her workbook and firmly not repeat it.
A day and a half later, with her attention shifted by work and patient wounds, He Dongli firmly believed bananas truly had a calming effect.
She would get through this, just as his acquisition case would eventually be resolved.
After calming down, when He Dongli got up, she swiped left to delete the message asking if she still wanted the pearl earring.
On her way back from changing a patient’s dressing, He Dongli ran into Zhao Zhenzhen, who was about to finish her shift.
They casually chatted about the unsuccessful matchmaking with the Liang family.
He Dongli learned from her teacher that Liang Jianxing was no longer in S City, having gone to Shenzhen to oversee a project.
Who knows him?
Director Yao was quite upset about it, but she had a good impression of Dr. He.
She even asked Zhao Zhenzhen to pass along that their second son was out of luck.
As they talked, it seemed there was never really any matchmaking; Dr. He was originally invited by their eldest son’s wife to come over.
Director Yao also said if He Dongli needed any help in the future, she could come to her directly.
Zhao Zhenzhen was also surprised and worried.
Director Yao was known to be picky, but He Dongli’s quiet demeanor had warmed her up.
He Dongli pretended to be confused but was not.
This wasn’t her doing; someone else had the money power to influence Liang Jianxing, and Liang had convinced his own mother.
She had said before, if he wanted to, even if the official media revealed everything, he could cover up all negative news about him at any cost.
Besides, it was just a small matchmaking.
After finishing her busy work without incident, He Dongli considered it a blessing and a victory.
She left the surgical building and walked to the adjacent Women and Children’s Hospital.
The convenience store there was the only place in the entire hospital with the fullest, best selection of snacks.
Her favorite red bean bread seemed sold out today.
Just as she was about to ask the cashier she knew if there was any left, someone waved a bag in front of her eyes.
It was Zou Yan. When He Dongli turned, he said childishly and proudly, “Last pack—I bought it for you.”
He Dongli smiled and took it, about to transfer money to him.
Zou Yan said it wasn’t necessary and immediately asked about treating her to dinner, “When are you free?”
“Sunday, probably. I’ll likely visit my mom on Saturday.”
Zou Yan nodded and took out his phone, saying he’d notify his friend.
Friend.
The word perked He Dongli up like a cat at a keyword.
“Your grandmother’s friend?”
“Yeah.”
Zou Yan sent the message, then looked up calmly, “Because of some reasons, she can’t go to places where there’s too much…I mean, dine-in places. Probably she has to pick the spot. If you have any dietary restrictions, tell me first.”
“I’m fine with anything. Your…I mean, his…if it’s really inconvenient, it’s okay not to invite her.”
Zou Yan looked at He Dongli suspiciously.
She rarely wore light makeup after work and had a faint fresh perfume scent.
Smiling, he asked, “What’s going on?”
He Dongli unwrapped a red bean bread.
She hadn’t had dinner and was a little hungry.
She thought, since Zou Yan was already prepared to treat her, and was so open about it, she didn’t need to be so cautious.
She respected all orientations in principle.
“Zou Yan, are we friends?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll ask directly.”
“Go ahead.”
“Your friend…is he a guy?”
“Do you like him?”
Zou Yan took more than a minute to process the sharpness of her question.
After a while, he stuffed the whole bag of red bean bread into He Dongli’s arms and said, “He Dongli, so the reason you kept hesitating when mentioning my friend is because you suspect I’m…and then you think if my friend treats us, it means we both came out of the closet?”
Before he finished speaking, someone appeared from behind a shelf and called out, “He Dongli.”
The owner of the name turned around.
It was Zong Chi—dressed in a low-saturation formal suit that looked too pampered for his face, so unweathered.
Who knew how ridiculous it was to be carrying a basket of bananas?
He Dongli’s heart clenched sharply.
As he took a few steps toward her, a rapid montage ran through her mind: When he was well, he could talk with her for over a hundred minutes, not letting her hang up even when showering, all just to create the surprise of a doorbell ringing and him standing outside showing he’d rushed back.
When he was foul, he wouldn’t even stand up—just coldly arrogant sitting there.
He Dongli thought, with your scores back then, why didn’t you study something other than medicine?
You just insisted on fighting yourself.
Who can win against you?
You nearly live off your pride.
Others eat tears with their rice, but you eat pride with your rice!
At that moment, He Dongli stood there, looking like a ragged, even naked, homeless child.
Zong Chi realized he had misspoken.
He stopped in front of her, blocking her path, calling her, “Xixi, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was…”
He Dongli wriggled free from his embrace and insisted on putting her shoes back on and returning to school.
During that period, He Dongli messaged him not to come to the school or the internship hospital.
Yes, she really lived off her pride.
Besides pride, she had nothing left.
In fact, Zong Chi didn’t have much time to come looking for her at school or hospital.
After graduating from undergrad, due to family obligations, he pursued a relevant master’s degree.
Then he immediately started internships across various departments and regional branches.
In his words, “I’m even afraid to come find you in the hospital. You’d hang up on me, and I’d lose face. That kind of apology can’t be used lightly—it’s the last trump card.”
Three years ago, when He Dongli was rotating through a specialized undergraduate department, and was the student personally supervised by the director, not long after starting surgery that day, Zhao Zhenzhen received a phone call and hurriedly told He Dongli to prepare immediately for an emergency aid—a major car accident in a neighboring city’s hospital, involving a middle-aged woman with scalp avulsion.
At the inpatient nurse station, they called Dr. He to sign for a delivery.
It was a bouquet of Morning Dew Purple Roses, wrapped in a long box like kraft paper, tied with green silk ribbon.
Before looking at the card, He Dongli already knew who sent it.
The card had only a brief address and a four-character signature: “Zhiming Buju.”
That day, He Dongli had no time to handle her emotions and followed her teacher to the neighboring hospital for emergency aid.
When she returned and finished her work, she rushed to that address, but Zong Chi had long flown away.
That day, the sky was overcast with rain.
On the taxi ride back, He Dongli leaned her head against the window, desperately trying to recall how to write the character for “trump card,” but she wasn’t willing to check on her phone.
Because they would never use it again.
After that failed encounter three years ago, Zong Chi decided that since she no longer wanted to meet, he would completely forget her.
So much so that when the family doctor came to check on Old Zong, he was annoyed seeing female doctors.
He had said he would never come to the hospital looking for her again.
But he had also threatened: “What I can’t have, no one else will get.”
Losing is not the same for everyone.
He could lose to He Dongli, but not to any man.
He Dongli wore a dark gray pinstripe suit, blue jeans, and a shirt with cuffs peeking out from under her jacket sleeves.
Tall, slender, cold, with a silhouette of Saint Laurent’s power aesthetic.
More than that were the years of their quarrels, where neither yielded, and He Dongli’s shaky but resolute pride—the one thing that belonged only to her.
She was also skilled at making sharp remarks.
Zong Chi had learned to submit to her.
Of course, she never doubted his orientation.
Zong Chi came to a stop before He Dongli and placed the basket of bananas on the refrigerated glass door of the convenience store.
Between mocking and sympathizing with his opponent, he ultimately chose to feign deafness and dumbness.
He came to apologize, and from the intel he had just gathered, he was really very wrong—damn wrong.
Yet, in front of others, he stubbornly wouldn’t open his mouth.
“Just finding you is enough,” He Dongli glared at him.
Zong Chi then theatrically said, “You and your sisters,” he deliberately emphasized the two words, “sent me so many bananas, I can’t finish them. They ripen so fast, my whole room smells like bananas. The business reps I met laughed at me, thinking I’m here to buy bananas.”
Someone nearby tried to grab an ice pack from the freezer, but the bananas were blocking the sliding door.
Seeing Zong Chi not move, He Dongli felt bad and reached to take the basket down.
Zong Chi then helped by taking some weight and said, “I was in a bad mood that night, raised my voice a bit.”
He Dongli ignored him and withdrew her hand, letting him carry it alone.
Nearby, Zou Yan stayed quiet but didn’t leave, casually exchanging glances with Zong Chi with a calm composure.
Zong Chi was in a great mood and didn’t mind.
First, Miss Feng hurried back non-stop.
Second, things were more interesting than he expected.
He Dongli was a true top student with a neat and bold approach to problem-solving.
Zong Chi couldn’t help but want to boast, “She’s damn made for wielding a knife!”
Right now, he needed to learn her decisiveness.
“Hmm, I think I should apologize to Doctor Zou too. After all, I misunderstood…”
He Dongli immediately called out, “Zong Chi!!!”
“What…?”
Zong Chi complained about her suddenness, “Be gentle, I can hear you.”
He Dongli was so angry she nearly ground her teeth.
She wanted to rip his mouth apart.
This man, regardless of why he suddenly came over babbling, was crazy enough to say anything.
But He Dongli knew well that when he’s crazy, he dares say anything, but she could never lose face over him.
So she warned him with her eyes, “Don’t put bananas on the fridge door.”
Zong Chi, hearing this, could only carry the basket in his hand.
He leaned close and smelled a familiar woody fragrance on her.
For a moment, Zong Chi’s senses were numb yet satisfied, pushing him to say, “Oh…”