Chapter 1: The Midnight Call

The dim glow of the hospital hallway lights reflected off the polished floors as Dr. Xiao Zhan leaned against the counter of the nurse’s station, absently flipping through a patient’s file. It had been a long shift, and exhaustion tugged at the edges of his mind, but he had learned long ago to ignore it. In his profession, fatigue was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

“You know, for someone who preaches work-life balance, you practically live here.”

Xiao Zhan looked up to see Dr. Lan Huan, a fellow surgeon and one of the few colleagues he actually tolerated. Lan Huan smirked as he placed his coffee on the counter, giving Xiao Zhan a knowing look.

“I do have a life,” Xiao Zhan replied flatly.

Lan Huan scoffed. “Oh? When was the last time you did something that wasn’t hospital-related?”

Xiao Zhan didn’t answer. Before Lan Huan could press further, the hospital intercom crackled to life.

“Emergency inbound—multiple gunshot wounds. ETA: Five minutes.”

Xiao Zhan’s expression hardened instantly. The weight of the conversation disappeared as his focus sharpened.

“Who’s on trauma duty?” Lan Huan asked, already pushing away from the counter.

“I am.” Xiao Zhan was already moving, pulling on his gloves as he strode toward the ER.

“Of course you are,” Lan Huan muttered, following him.

______________________________________________________________

The Emergency Room

The automatic doors slid open as paramedics rushed in, pushing a stretcher forward. The metallic scent of blood mixed with the sterile hospital air. Nurses moved quickly, clearing space as Xiao Zhan stepped forward, assessing the patient.

“Male, late twenties. Special forces soldier. Multiple gunshot wounds—one to the abdomen, another through the shoulder. Blood pressure’s dropping. Possible internal bleeding,” a paramedic reported.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes locked onto the unconscious man. His uniform was torn, soaked in blood. His face, though pale from blood loss, was striking—sharp jawline, furrowed brows as if he were still fighting, even in unconsciousness.

“Name?” Xiao Zhan asked briskly.

“Wang Yibo.”

Xiao Zhan barely reacted, but something about the name sent a flicker of recognition through him. He pushed the thought aside. Right now, his only focus was saving this man’s life.

“He’s in hypovolemic shock. We need to stabilize him, now,” Xiao Zhan ordered. “Get him to the OR.”

______________________________________________________________

The Operating Room

Bright surgical lights beamed down as the team worked with swift precision. Xiao Zhan stood at the operating table, hands steady as he examined the damage. The gunshot wound to the abdomen was the biggest concern—there was severe bleeding, likely from a damaged artery.

“Clamp,” he ordered, holding out his hand. A nurse immediately placed the instrument in his palm.

Lan Huan, assisting him, spoke up. “Bullet’s lodged near the liver. It’s risky, but we need to extract it fast.”

Xiao Zhan nodded. “We don’t have time to be careful. If we don’t stop the bleeding, he won’t make it.”

The room was tense, filled with the soft beeping of machines and the steady, controlled movements of the surgical team. Xiao Zhan’s focus narrowed. One mistake, one hesitation, and the man on the table would be gone.

“Forceps.”

Sweat trickled down his temple as he maneuvered carefully, finally locating the bullet. It was dangerously close to a major artery. One wrong move, and—

A monitor beeped loudly.

“Blood pressure dropping!” a nurse warned.

“Damn it,” Lan Huan muttered. “He’s losing too much blood.”

“Keep the transfusion going,” Xiao Zhan ordered, his voice calm despite the tension. “I’m almost there.”

For a brief second, time seemed to stretch.

Then—success.

Xiao Zhan extracted the bullet, swiftly moving to control the bleeding. His hands worked efficiently, closing the wound with practiced ease. The heart monitor stabilized.

A breath of relief passed through the room.

“He’s stable,” Xiao Zhan confirmed, stepping back. He exhaled, finally allowing himself a moment of exhaustion. “Monitor him closely. He’s not out of danger yet.”

As the team moved to clean up, Xiao Zhan glanced down at the man he had just saved. Wang Yibo. A soldier. A fighter.

To be Continue....

Chapter 2: Unyielding Will

The beeping of medical monitors filled the sterile hospital room. Wang Yibo’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, his senses sluggish from the effects of anesthesia. His body felt heavy, wrapped in layers of pain and bandages. The dull throb in his side reminded him of his last memory—the ambush, the explosion, and the desperate attempt to drag his teammate to safety before everything went dark.

A low murmur caught his attention.

“—He’s finally awake.”

The voice was familiar—calm, composed, but tinged with relief. Zhou Zishu, his commander.

Yibo’s gaze shifted slightly, taking in the figures standing near his bed. Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing, Gu Xiang, and Cheng Ling—his unit, his brothers and sister-in-arms. They were all here.

“About damn time,” Wen Kexing scoffed, arms crossed. “We were starting to think you’d enjoy your beauty sleep forever.”

Yibo exhaled through his nose, the corner of his lips barely lifting before a sharp pain in his ribs forced him still.

“Where…?” His voice came out rough, barely above a whisper.

“You’re in Jiang Medical Center,” Zhou Zishu answered, stepping forward. His sharp eyes scanned Yibo’s face, assessing his condition. “Emergency surgery. You nearly didn’t make it.”

Yibo gritted his teeth. He hated hospitals. He hated the feeling of helplessness. The idea that others had to take care of him was almost unbearable.

His fingers twitched, instinctively reaching for his IV line.

“Don’t,” a firm voice interrupted.

All eyes turned toward the doorway.

Dr. Xiao Zhan stood there, clipboard in hand, gaze sharp and unwavering. Dressed in his white coat with sleeves slightly rolled up, he looked effortlessly composed.

“You’re still recovering from a major surgery,” Xiao Zhan continued as he strode inside, eyes locking onto Yibo. “If you rip out that IV, I’ll personally sedate you.”

Wang Yibo narrowed his eyes. Who the hell does he think he is?

His unit went silent, sensing the tension brewing between their stubborn captain and the equally authoritative doctor.

Cheng Ling shifted uncomfortably, Gu Xiang smirked, and Wen Kexing looked far too entertained.

Zhou Zishu, however, watched the exchange with quiet curiosity. This was new.

Yibo held Xiao Zhan’s gaze for a long moment, a silent battle of wills. He had faced enemies on the battlefield, endured torture, survived near-death experiences. Yet somehow, this doctor refused to be intimidated.

Finally, he let his head sink back into the pillow, saying nothing.

Xiao Zhan exhaled, his grip on the clipboard loosening slightly. Good. At least he wasn’t a complete idiot.

“Since you’re awake, I’ll do a full check-up,” he said briskly, stepping closer. “And if you cooperate, maybe I’ll consider not tying you to this bed to keep you from doing something reckless.”

A low chuckle escaped Wen Kexing. “Doctor, I think you just became my favorite person.”

Xiao Zhan ignored him and focused solely on Wang Yibo, who looked seconds away from snapping back at him.

Neither of them knew it yet, but this was just the beginning.

Chapter 3: Unspoken Battles

______________________________________________________________

08:30 AM | Hospital Room 507

The sun had barely risen, but the hospital was already awake—nurses rushing through the halls, pagers beeping, and the distant hum of conversations blending into white noise.

Inside Room 507, Wang Yibo lay still, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his body stiff under the crisp white sheets. His mind, however, was anything but still.

His unit had been here earlier—Cheng Ling barking orders at the nurses, Gu Xiang smirking as she teased him, and Zhou Zishu watching quietly, as always. But now, it was just him and the doctor.

Xiao Zhan stood by his bedside, flipping through a patient chart with a practiced ease. His expression was unreadable, professional, but his eyes lingered on Yibo for a second too long.

“You didn’t sleep much.” His voice broke the silence.

Yibo scoffed. “Didn’t know you were tracking my sleep schedule.”

Xiao Zhan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have to. You look like hell.”

Yibo let out a humorless chuckle. “I’ve had worse.”

“Right,” Xiao Zhan said, scribbling something onto his clipboard. “Because being shot is just another day at work for you, isn’t it?”

Yibo turned his head slightly, meeting Xiao Zhan’s gaze for the first time that morning. His sharp eyes held something unreadable—a challenge, maybe.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered.

Xiao Zhan sighed, setting the clipboard down with a soft thud. “You keep saying that like it’s some universal truth.”

“It is.”

Xiao Zhan exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers against his temple. He wasn’t in the mood for this. “Listen, I get it. You’re used to pushing through pain, to ignoring it. But you’re in a hospital now, which means you don’t get to act like a damn hero while your body is barely holding itself together.”

Yibo’s jaw clenched. He hated this. Hated being weak. Hated being stuck. Hated that Xiao Zhan saw through him so easily.

“You done?” he asked flatly.

“No.” Xiao Zhan crossed his arms. “You need to rest. You need to take your medication. And most importantly, you need to stop acting like you’re invincible.”

Yibo huffed, looking away. “Doctors and their rules.”

Xiao Zhan smirked. “Soldiers and their egos.”

A silence settled between them. The tension wasn’t just annoyance anymore—it was something else.

Xiao Zhan moved closer, checking Yibo’s IV line, his fingers brushing against his wrist. It was barely a touch, just skin against skin, but it sent an unfamiliar shiver up Yibo’s spine.

He tensed. Xiao Zhan didn’t miss it.

“Pain level?” The doctor’s voice was softer now.

Yibo swallowed. “…Tolerable.”

Xiao Zhan studied him for a long moment before speaking. “If it gets worse, you tell me.”

Yibo didn’t respond, but he didn’t look away this time. That, in itself, was an answer.

Xiao Zhan glanced at the clock—08:42 AM. He had other patients to see, but for some reason, he didn’t move.

For a soldier who had survived gunfire and explosions, Yibo sure as hell felt like he was losing a different kind of battle.

And Xiao Zhan was starting to realize… maybe he was too.

_____________________________________________________________

08:45 AM | Hospital Room 507

The knock on the door was sharp, and Dr. Wen Qing stepped inside with her usual confidence, clipboard tucked under one arm. Her gaze flickered between Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo, her brows raising slightly at the tension hanging in the air.

Xiao Zhan barely had time to speak before she cut in.

“Dr. Xiao,” she said, her tone professional but familiar. “The CEO wants to see you. Urgently.”

Xiao Zhan frowned. “What for?”

“No idea. He just said it’s important.” Wen Qing crossed her arms. “But considering how busy he usually is, I’d say it’s serious.”

Xiao Zhan exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Great. Another crisis.”

As he moved to leave, Wen Qing turned to Wang Yibo, her sharp eyes narrowing. “And you, soldier, don’t scare off any more interns. The poor kid yesterday looked like he saw a ghost.”

Yibo smirked lazily, arms crossed over his chest. “Not my fault if they’re weak.”

Wen Qing scoffed. “You’re worse than Xiao Zhan. At least he pretends to be nice.”

Xiao Zhan rolled his eyes. “Remind me why we’re friends again?”

“Because no one else puts up with you.” She gave him a teasing smile, but something in her expression softened when she looked at him.

Xiao Zhan didn’t notice. But Wang Yibo did.

Xiao Zhan turned to his patient. “I’ll be back soon. Try not to start a war while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” Yibo said smoothly.

With one last glance at the two men, Wen Qing watched as Xiao Zhan walked away, completely unaware of the way her gaze lingered on him.

And for some reason, Wang Yibo found himself watching her watching him.