6:47 AM Nurse Mei dropped her breakfast bun into her tea.
Again.
"Ugh!" she groaned, staring into her cup like it had betrayed her. "Why does this always happen when I think about Dr. Zhao!"
Chen Yufei stifled a laugh. "You're not even trying to hide your thirst now?"
"I'm not thirsty. I'm… emotionally dehydrated," Nurse Mei replied, dramatically clutching her chest.
From the far end of the break room, Dr. Zhao Yichen entered with his stethoscope swinging and his trademark smirk parked on his lips.
"Someone mention me?" he asked, reaching for a coffee.
Mei's teacup cracked. Literally.
Meanwhile, Dr. Lin Meilin was already walking through the ward with her checklist, coffee in hand, hair messily tied back, her eyes doing that 360° scan like she was already on her fourth shift.
She was a doctor, yes.
But this morning, she was also very much a human mess pretending to be in control.
She found Yichen by the nurses' desk, scribbling something on a form while eating a steamed bun with the other hand.
"Morning," she said.
"You're 2 minutes early. Who are you and what have you done with Dr. Lin?"
"Very funny."
"You worried about Li Jun?"
She didn't answer.
Yichen turned, softer now. "He's stable. He's got a 24-hour monitor. If anyone breathes wrong, the whole floor will know."
"Doesn't stop my gut from twisting," Meilin muttered.
"You know what helps that?" Yichen smirked. "A nap. Or… a very specific breakfast bun Nurse Mei was emotionally drooling over."
Meilin gave him a look.
Yichen held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. But you're clearly running on fumes. Recharge before you short-circuit."
"I'll try."
"Lie."
"Shut up."
"See? This is our love language."
Later, in the ward, Meilin was checking on Li Jun when he whispered something she didn't expect.
"They're inside the hospital."
Her pen paused mid-note
"What makes you say that?" she asked calmly.
"The lights flickered last night," he said. "Twice. Exactly like it did the last time… before the fire."
"The fire?" she echoed.
Li Jun nodded. "I can't talk much now. But there's something hidden in this place. Records. Someone's past. Mine, maybe. I don't even know what they want."
Meilin stood there, heart quietly pacing. "We'll protect you. I promise."
But a whisper from her own conscience said: Can you really?
At lunchtime, Meilin finally sat in the hospital garden, trying to zone out.
But peace was not a luxury today.
"Hey," a voice said. "Want some peace with your anxiety?"
It was Yichen again—this time holding two paper cups of milk tea and a skewer of fish balls.
"You're spoiling me," Meilin said, half smiling.
He sat next to her on the bench. "That's the plan. I'm gunning for Favorite Colleague of the Year."
"Isn't that you every year?"
"Not officially. Huang Bo got it last year. Just because he grew succulents in the break room and gave one to Dr. Qiu."
"That's… smart."
"Exactly. I need to up my game."
"Is this your strategy? Feed me fish balls until I vote for you?"
Yichen looked mock-offended. "Hey. These are emotionally supportive fish balls. They fix burnout and possibly heartbreak."
"Possibly?"
"I haven't tested the heartbreak theory. Want to help?"
Meilin blinked. "That was smooth."
"I'm a cardiologist. I know hearts."
She turned away to hide her blush.
Back inside, Dr. Gao Rui was helping Chen Yufei organize the storage room, but they were clearly more interested in bantering than inventory.
"You keep labeling things in English," she scolded.
"It's international practice."
"It's lazy."
"It's sexy."
She dropped a clipboard on his foot.
"Ow!"
"Oops."
"You're into me."
"Shut up."
"Classic denial," Gao Rui grinned.
From outside the door, Nurse Mei whispered to herself: "Why is everyone in this hospital in a K-drama except me?!"
Back in Room 14, things took a strange turn.
Li Jun was asleep—or pretending to be.
But his hand slipped under his pillow for something hidden there.
A folded photograph.
Old. Burned at the edge.
Two doctors. One face scratched out.
The other?
Looked like a younger version of Dr. Lin Guoxiang—Meilin's father.
Evening rounds brought Meilin face-to-face with Dr. Lin Guoxiang, who was standing near the records room, arms crossed.
"Busy day?" he asked, tone neutral.
"Always."
He looked at her, but not warmly. Not like a father. More like a superior giving an employee a reminder.
"I heard you've been spending a lot of time in Room 14."
"I'm his attending.
"There are whispers," he said. "People saying you're… emotionally involved."
Meilin stiffened. "Do you believe that?"
He didn't answer. Just said, "Don't let your emotions write your diagnosis."
That was the thing with her father.
He never yelled.
He just froze you with disappointment.
That night, Meilin stayed behind again.
She walked past Yichen's office but didn't go in.
She didn't want to admit how much she wanted to.
Instead, she checked on Li Jun again, then found herself sitting in the dark staff lounge, replaying everything in her head.
That's when she felt something in her coat pocket.
A note.
Folded.
Not hers.
She opened it, heart quickening.
He's not who you think he is.
The truth is in the red file, basement archives.
Burn it if you want to live.
No name. No signature.
Just those words.
She looked toward the hallway.
And from the corner of her eye, she saw someone disappearing down the stairs.
Down in the basement, the archives were dusty and half-forgotten.
She used her ID to swipe access, hands slightly trembling.
Rows of files. Decades old.
She searched for a good thirty minutes until—
Red folder. No label.
Inside were photos. Reports. A fire in 1998. A cover-up.
She flipped the last page.
A staff list.
Dr. Lin Guoxiang – Chief Resident.
Patient Zero – Li Jun.
Meilin's breath caught.
Her father… and Li Jun?
Suddenly, the door behind her slammed shut.
Locked.
Lights out.
Her phone buzzed. Blocked number.
One message.
You're digging too deep, Dr. Lin.
To be continued…