Volume One, Chapter Seven: Feng Xi Takes the Pulse

Feng Xi spent the entire morning of the next day at the library. She had not studied for a long time; the medical curriculum required memorizing a vast amount of material, and she had been occupied with part-time jobs. Finally, she had the time to consolidate her studies.

At noon, Feng Xi skipped lunch. With only a few hundred yuan left to her name, she figured that since she had been sitting still all morning, skipping a meal would save her some money.

Just before two in the afternoon, Feng Xi’s phone rang. The harsh ringtone sounded exceptionally loud in the quiet library. It was Ding Wen. Feng Xi answered quickly and trotted into the restroom.

"Hello? Assistant Ding?"

Ding Wen’s voice was anxious. "Feng Xi, are you available to come to the hospital? President Gu has a persistent high fever, and I have an urgent matter to attend to. Could you come and look after him for a while?"

Feng Xi did not hesitate. "Give me a moment; I'll be right there."

"Thank you so much."

"It's no trouble at all."

After hanging up, Feng Xi clutched her heavy, brick-thick medical textbook and hurried to the hospital. Upon entering Gu Qingchen’s room, she placed the book on the table.

Gu Qingchen’s face was flushed with an unnatural red. His upper body was bare, covered only by a thin blanket. His robust physique was vaguely visible, and his abdomen rose and fell with shallow, rapid breaths. His lips were chapped and peeling, and an IV line was taped to his hand. He slept with great unease.

Yet, he was a sight to behold.

Ding Wen lowered his voice. "This is the last bag of IV fluid. Just keep an eye on it, and call the nurse to remove the needle when it's done. The doctor said physical cooling will take about another half hour; when the time is up, help him cover up with a thick blanket."

As Ding Wen picked up his briefcase to leave, Feng Xi grabbed his arm. "Why did he get a fever?"

Ding Wen rubbed his temples. "He returned to the Gu family home this morning, encountered some unpleasant people, and caught a chill. He came back without eating at the family banquet and started running a fever on the way." He glanced at his watch. "I have to go. Call me if anything happens."

Ding Wen strode away, clearly dealing with a true emergency.

Feng Xi stood by Gu Qingchen’s bedside and carefully examined the label on the IV bag. The medications were all anti-inflammatories. Those recovering from major surgery were extremely weak, and their resistance was even lower in cold weather. Fever could cause inflammation in unhealed wounds and prolong the recovery period.

Gu Qingchen’s brows were slightly furrowed, and his hands were clenched tight. He looked to be in great pain. Feng Xi let out a long sigh; in the face of illness, everyone is equal, no matter who you are.

With half a bag of fluid remaining, Feng Xi picked up her medical book to study. However, her eyes kept drifting to Gu Qingchen’s bare shoulders and handsome face. He was like a siren, distracting her and leaving her restless. Looking at the muscle anatomy diagrams in her book, she felt that Gu Qingchen’s muscles were far more aesthetically pleasing.

About twenty minutes later, Feng Xi stole a glance at the IV bag. Oh no! The liquid had already drained to the very bottom of the tube.

She hastily tossed the book aside and rushed out to call the nurse. The nurse quickly removed the needle and signaled for Feng Xi to press down on the medical tape.

Feng Xi pressed the wound with her thumb, while her other four fingers inevitably brushed against Gu Qingchen’s palm. He was burning up.

Driven by an inexplicable impulse, Feng Xi turned his hand over to expose his wrist. She placed her index, middle, and ring fingers on his pulse, carefully sensing the flow of blood within his body. At times it was strong—a rapid, surging pulse indicating intense fever—and at other times, it was weak. Across the three pulse positions—Cun, Guan, and Chi—it felt feeble in all depths, indicating a state of deficiency.

As Feng Xi continued to probe, trying to discern the source of the "faint pulse" within the deficiency, a sudden, forceful pulse surged against her fingers. She froze for a brief second, and then a faint, breathy voice drifted from above: "Cold."

She looked up and suddenly met Gu Qingchen’s eyes. They were bloodshot, hollow, and listless. Whether it was an illusion or not, Feng Xi felt his gaze was incredibly complex, like a dying beast recalling a valiant past, his eyes filled with desolation.

"What?" Feng Xi asked.

Gu Qingchen took a deep breath, his expression returning to normal as if it had all been her imagination. "Your hands... they're very cold."

Feng Xi recoiled, standing up with a slight blush on her cheeks. She pulled the blanket from the foot of the bed, covered him, and tucked in the corners.

Gu Qingchen smiled faintly, enduring the pain in his throat as he whispered, "Did you find anything, little miracle doctor?"

Feng Xi brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear in embarrassment. "No... my skills are not yet refined."

Gu Qingchen struggled to sit up and reached for the water glass on the table. Feng Xi picked it up and handed it to him. He touched his lips to it, found it was warm, and drank it all in one go.

The quilt and blanket slid down to his waist. A drop of water rolled from the corner of his mouth, down his throat and collarbone, and came to a stop on his muscular chest.

Feng Xi felt a slight tightness in her throat.

Gu Qingchen cleared his throat. "Aren't you the little miracle doctor who claims to have ten years of medical experience?"

Feng Xi blushed and bit her lip, not knowing where to begin.

"What's wrong? Am I dying?"

Feng Xi waved her hands frantically. "How could that be?"

Gu Qingchen lay back down and pulled the blanket up to his chin. Feeling better after the water, he continued to tease her. "That hesitant look of yours really makes me feel terrible, as if you're here to see me off."

Feng Xi reached out to press her hand over his mouth, frowning. "Enough talk. Don't tempt fate!" Realizing where her hand was, she quickly pulled it back.

Seeing her serious expression, Gu Qingchen’s mood finally improved slightly. "So, tell me, what did you diagnose while taking my pulse?"

Feng Xi hesitated before speaking. "Excessive worry and sorrow have damaged your spleen. A weak spleen leads to stagnant energy; your blood and vitality are fading day by day, your muscles are wasting away, and your spirit is declining."

Gu Qingchen closed his mouth and said nothing, his mood darkening once more.

"Although you appear tall and strong, your body is actually depleted. Especially after such severe trauma, your energy and blood are concentrated on healing the wounds, unable to attend to anything else. You overthink every day and over-train; there will inevitably be a breaking point. Catching a cold was just the trigger—the fever is only the beginning."

After Feng Xi finished speaking, a long silence followed. Gu Qingchen stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, his eyes slowly dimming.

Feng Xi realized she had spoken too harshly and had completely forgotten her own role, treating Gu Qingchen as a patient rather than a superior.

The more Gu Qingchen dwelt on it, the more muddled his mind became. He said in a hoarse voice, "But how can I forget?"

He turned his head, his eyes veiled in mist, looking at Feng Xi as if pleading for some revelation.

Looking into his eyes, Feng Xi realized that the unpleasant people at the banquet were likely the ones he missed day and night. Perhaps they had done something that dealt him a crushing blow, causing the man who had been holding on by a thread to finally give up and surrender.

She felt inexplicably angry. To surrender one's own body to an outsider—no wonder he was so gravely ill. Did he think he had to fade away like the delicate Lin Daiyu to be worthy of a lost love?

She then said, word by word, "You cannot forget. Every step in life counts, but being happy is the most important thing."

Even if that former "white moonlight" had done something unforgivable, he had to accept it. Like scraping bone to remove poison, one must extract the rot in the most ruthless way so that new flesh can grow.

Perhaps Gu Qingchen truly took her words to heart, or perhaps his lover had truly left him. Over the next month, he significantly reduced his daily rehabilitation training. As if his spirit had been drained, he suffered from one ailment after another—colds, fevers, shingles—appearing one after another.

Just as Feng Xi had said, the fever was only the beginning.

But both Ding Wen and Feng Xi could see that Gu Qingchen’s mood was no longer as depressed as before, and he was gradually regaining some vitality.

Perhaps he had let go. But what made Feng Xi the happiest was that her salary arrived on schedule—24,000! With so many zeros, she felt like she was going to fly with joy.

By the time Feng Xi’s first paycheck arrived, Gu Qingchen was already able to move without his walker. Although he could not yet walk entirely on his own, it was already a miracle. His mood had improved significantly, and Feng Xi would check his pulse every few days. The two could even joke around, and the atmosphere between them had become much more harmonious.