Qingmei Medical Center didn't sleep, not even after midnight. Somewhere on the fourth floor, a monitor beeped steadily. On the third, a nurse whispered instructions to a nervous intern. But on the rooftop, away from the hum of medicine and murmurs, Meilin sat with her chin on her knees, the sky above her blurry with clouds and the gentle orange glow of the city.
She hadn't gone back to her dorm. She didn't want the silence. Not after everything she had uncovered.
Yichen sat beside her, legs stretched out, bubble tea half-finished in his hand. They hadn't spoken in ten minutes, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Somehow, the quiet between them felt louder than words.
"When I was a kid," Meilin finally said, "I used to think this hospital was a castle."
Yichen glanced at her. "You and every intern on their first day."
She shook her head. "No, I mean… literally. A place where heroes lived. My dad was the king. Everyone wore white like armor. I thought nothing bad could ever happen here."
He said nothing, but the way he looked at her told her to keep going.
"And then one night, I got lost after visiting my dad. I was five. Ended up near the basement labs. That's when I heard someone screaming." She swallowed. "I ran before I saw anything. But the scream… I still remember it."
Yichen's fingers curled slightly. "That was the year of the fire?"
She nodded. "Two months later. I don't know if it was related. But after that night, I stopped thinking this place was a castle. It became a maze."
Yichen took a slow breath. "I always knew my uncle died in that fire. But no one told me he worked here. They made it sound like he was just a visitor. Some tragic bystander." He looked down at his drink. "Now I'm wondering what else my family never told me."
Meilin rested her head on his shoulder. "We're not just fighting secrets anymore. We're fighting legacies."
He leaned his head against hers. "Let's promise something."
She looked up.
"No matter what else comes out, no matter who it's about… we tell each other. No lies. No hiding. Deal?"
She nodded, her eyes fierce. "Deal."
The next morning was chaos, as usual. A car accident on the east bridge brought in five trauma cases, and Qingmei Medical Center turned into a battlefield.
Yichen was in surgery within ten minutes of arriving. He barely had time to pull his gloves on before scrubbing in for a spleen rupture. Meilin was in Pediatrics, where a 7-year-old boy with a fractured rib cried for his mother between ragged coughs. She held his hand and whispered soothing nonsense while the monitors beeped like anxious birds.
By noon, both of them were exhausted. Meilin had blood on her sleeve. Yichen had a coffee stain on his white coat. Neither cared.
At the nurses' station, Yufei was furiously typing discharge notes, while Gao Rui argued with a radiologist over the phone.
Yufei looked up as Meilin walked by and gave her a tired smile. "Your eyes look like a raccoon that just ran a marathon."
Meilin sighed. "Your face looks like a dumpling someone stepped on."
"Touché," Yufei muttered, going back to her keyboard.
Behind them, Mei was handing out vitamin drinks to the interns, clapping her hands like a cheerful commander. "Drink up or drop dead, people! This isn't a modeling agency it's a hospital!"
Yichen slid into the station with the swagger of someone who had just finished sewing a person back together and wanted the world to know it. "I demand food. Or attention. Either one is acceptable."
"Sit down," Mei said, tossing him a nutrition bar. "You're getting neither."
Meilin passed him a bottle of water without a word. He caught it mid-air, surprised. Their eyes met, and something passed between them quick and quiet, like a secret too warm to share yet.
Yichen raised an eyebrow. "That almost felt… kind."
"Don't get used to it."
Later that afternoon, Dr. Lin stood in the director's office with his arms crossed. The hospital director, stern as ever, was reviewing a stack of papers with a scowl.
"She's getting closer," the director said, referring to Meilin. "If she uncovers the 1998 Project, everything falls apart."
Dr. Lin kept his face blank. "I'll handle it."
"You said that last week. And now the Zhao boy's involved."
"Leave him to me," Lin said.
The director stood. "If this hospital burns because of your daughter's stubbornness, you won't be the only one losing a name."
Dr. Lin said nothing as he walked out, but his fists were tight in his coat pockets.
In the staff lounge, Meilin sat with the red folder open in front of her, the files now scattered across the table. Her eyes were focused on a black-and-white photo of staff from 1998. In the corner stood a man with sharp eyes and a crooked smile.
Zhao Weihao.
Yichen entered quietly, closing the door behind him.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I found something," Meilin said, not looking up. "Look."
He leaned in, frowning at the image. "That's him."
"Notice anything strange?"
He squinted. "Wait. The man standing next to him… is that your father?"
Meilin nodded. "They knew each other. Not just that they worked together."
Yichen stepped back. "This changes everything."
She nodded. "And I think that fire wasn't an accident. It was a cover-up."
Later that evening, the hospital calmed down for a few hours. The sun had dipped, casting long shadows on the tile floors. Meilin stood by a vending machine, pressing the buttons too hard as she tried to force a drink to drop.
"Don't take your anger out on innocent machines," Yichen said behind her.
She sighed. "I'm so tired."
He handed her the drink he'd already bought. "Here. I knew you'd come looking for this."
She accepted it without a word and leaned against the wall beside him.
"You ever feel like the more you learn, the more everything falls apart?" she asked.
"All the time. But I also think some things have to fall apart before they make sense."
She looked at him. "That was surprisingly wise."
"I'm full of surprises," he said with a grin.
She laughed softly. "I wish I could go back to being that little girl who thought this place was perfect."
Yichen turned toward her. "But you're not that girl anymore. You're stronger. Smarter. Braver."
Her eyes met his, and for the first time, he didn't look away.
"I don't want to be brave alone anymore," she whispered.
"You're not," he said, and before she could reply, he reached for her hand.
It wasn't a grand gesture. Not a dramatic kiss. But the warmth of his fingers curling around hers felt louder than anything else in that hallway.
And for a moment, she let herself believe that maybe just maybe this fight wouldn't destroy her.
In a quiet corridor near the archives, a janitor swept slowly, pausing now and then to glance around. When the hallway cleared, he pulled out a key and opened a hidden door.
Inside, the room was cold, full of metal drawers and dust. He pulled out a folder from the bottom cabinet. The label read:
Project Phoenix: 1998
He stared at it for a long time before slipping it into his coat and disappearing into the night.
In Pediatrics, Yufei sat beside a young girl with bandages wrapped around her chest. The girl was drawing on a sketchpad, humming softly.
Yufei asked gently, "What are you drawing?"
"A robot dog," the girl said proudly. "One that can chase away scary dreams."
Yufei smiled, her voice catching. "That's a good dog. Maybe I'll get one too."
Gao Rui watched from the doorway. He didn't say anything, but he looked at Yufei like he was seeing something new something soft beneath the sarcasm.
Later that night, Meilin and Yichen sat on a bench outside the hospital. The wind was cool, carrying the scent of rain and antiseptic.
"I still don't understand why my father would lie to me," Meilin said, her voice quiet.
"Maybe he thought he was protecting you," Yichen replied. "Or maybe he was protecting himself.
She nodded slowly. "Whatever it is… I need to hear it from him. No more guessing."
Yichen touched her cheek gently, brushing away a strand of hair. "When you're ready, I'll be right beside you."
Meilin smiled, tired but thankful.
"I'm not used to this," she admitted.
"What? Trust?"
She shook her head. "No. Someone staying."
Yichen looked into her eyes, and something unspoken passed between them again something fragile and true.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said.
And for the first time in weeks, she believed him.
To be continued…