He was a disabled military officer who doted on his research work in the Northwest.

"You have the nerve to say he's idle?" Dr. Chen rolled his eyes. "Cheng Yuan's exact words were—'Old Chen, you know my brother's temper; he'll definitely only tell me good news and not bad. Keep an eye on things for me, and let me know immediately if anything happens.'"

Mu Qinghan did not respond.

Dr. Chen and his elder brother, Mu Chengyuan, were classmates in a short-term training program at the military medical university. At that time, Mu Chengyuan had just been transferred back to Beijing from the grassroots level and was required by the General Staff to study battlefield first aid for half a year at the military medical university. The two were classmates for more than half a year. One was a medical soldier determined to take root in clinical practice, and the other was a staff officer who was destined to return to Beijing to take charge of the central command. Originally, they were two parallel lines, but they got along well and became close friends.

Later, Mu Chengyuan returned to Beijing and rose through the ranks from a junior officer in the General Staff Operations Department to a staff officer. Dr. Chen, on the other hand, stayed at the Northwest Military Region Hospital, spending ten years dealing with wounded soldiers and the desert sands. Although they were separated by vast distances, they never forgot to send each other gifts during holidays—Chengyuan would send tea and snacks from Beijing, while Dr. Chen would send back goji berries and red dates from the Northwest.

After Mu Qinghan was injured, Mu Chengyuan called Dr. Chen that very night. In that call, the eldest son of the Mu family, who was known for his composure and gentleness in the General Staff and always had a hint of a smile on his face, revealed his undisguised anxiety for the first time in front of his old friend.

"Old Chen, you must help me save my brother's leg."

Dr. Chen agreed. He had seen Mu Chengyuan's calm and composed demeanor during his time at the military medical university, and he had also seen the fleeting tenderness in Mu Chengyuan's eyes when he spoke of his younger brother. The two Mu brothers were like water and a knife. If the knife breaks, even the gentlest water will churn.

Therefore, Dr. Chen paid special attention to Mu Qinghan, not only as a doctor's duty, but also as a promise to his old friend.

"I told Chengyuan you're recovering well, and he was quite happy." Dr. Chen took a sip of tea, carefully choosing his words, "But at the end, he added—that the old lady keeps mentioning the jade bracelet."

Mu Qinghan paused for a moment while flipping through the magazine.

"He conveyed the old lady's meaning," Dr. Chen sighed, "saying that the marriage was originally arranged to repay a debt of gratitude, but now, given your situation... the old lady feels that the daughter of her benefactor shouldn't be used to fill a hole; she says that's not repaying a debt of gratitude, it's committing a sin. She wants to annul the engagement, take back the bracelet, give the Shen family some compensation, and settle things cleanly. Your brother thinks the same way."

Mu Qinghan remained silent for a few seconds.

Take it back?

The jade bracelet was still on Shen Tang's wrist, ostensibly because "the swelling in her wrist wouldn't go down."

"Your brother said he might come to the Northwest soon," Dr. Chen glanced at him tentatively. "Partly to see you, and partly... probably to settle this matter in person."

Mu Qinghan's expression remained unchanged; she simply flipped through the magazine a little slower.

"Let him be."

These two words sounded casual, but after dealing with the Mu brothers for so many years, Dr. Chen vaguely felt that something was not quite right—if it really didn't matter, Mu Qinghan should have directly said "Let him come and get the bracelet," instead of an ambiguous "Whatever."

Just as Dr. Chen was about to probe a few more times, Mu Qinghan's gaze suddenly passed over his shoulder and landed outside the window.

The hospital courtyard is visible outside the window. The midday sun is intense, turning the cement ground white.

A familiar figure appeared in his field of vision.

Shen Tang carried the aluminum insulated lunchbox and walked briskly from the direction of the compound. Today she was wearing a light blue polyester shirt, and her long hair was still braided and draped over her shoulders. Her steps were light and neat. In the sunlight, her profile was clean and clear, like a sketch outlined in gold.

Mu Qinghan's gaze unconsciously followed the figure—from the courtyard gate, to the bottom of the steps, to her bending down to tidy the lid of the lunchbox, and then to her raising her hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"...Commander? Commander?"

Dr. Chen called out twice before Mu Qinghan came to her senses.

"Um?"

"I said, have you looked at the rehabilitation plan for next week?" Dr. Chen repeated the question, but his peripheral vision had already caught sight of the blue figure outside the window.

He glanced down at the medical record, and a slight, imperceptible smile curved his lips.

The old lady wanted to break off the engagement, and Chengyuan came to collect the bracelet... but he felt that Qinghan's attitude seemed a little strange.

"Put it here, I'll read it tonight." Mu Qinghan picked up the military magazine from the bedside table, her tone returning to its usual indifference.

Dr. Chen responded and was preparing to pack his things and leave when suddenly—

A sharp scream came from the courtyard downstairs.

"Help! Someone has fainted!"

"Is it heatstroke? The sun is so strong today!"

"Quickly move him to a shady place! Call a doctor!"

Mu Qinghan and Dr. Chen both turned to look out the window.

On the steps outside the outpatient hall on the first floor of the hospital, an elderly man with gray hair lay face up on the ground, his body curled up. A crowd had already gathered around him, shouting all at once, "He has heatstroke! He has heatstroke!"

No wonder—the midday sun was like a blazing inferno overhead, and the cement ground was so hot you could fry an egg on it. When an old man collapsed under the scorching sun, anyone's first thought would be heatstroke.

Several family members passing by hurriedly moved the elderly man to a shady spot beside the steps. A young military wife nearby, pale with fright, held the old man's head and cried, "Dad! Dad, what's wrong! Wake up!"

Just then, Bai Wei came out of the outpatient hall.

She had been seething with anger after being disciplined for the past few days, but upon hearing someone collapse and cry out in alarm, her nurse's instincts compelled her to rush over. Moreover—if she could demonstrate her professional first-aid skills in front of everyone, it would prove that the last incident with the IV bottle was just an accidental mistake, and that Bai Wei's professional competence was not in question.

"Make way! Make way! I'm a nurse!" Bai Wei squeezed through the crowd, squatted down and glanced at the old man's condition—in the midday sun, the old man's face was flushed and his forehead was covered in sweat, plus everyone around him was shouting that he had heatstroke.

"He's got heatstroke!" Bai Wei didn't even glance at the old man's lips before turning back and shouting to the crowd, "Quick! Get him to the internal medicine ward! Find him a bed to lie down on, give him some Huoxiang Zhengqi Water (a traditional Chinese medicine for heatstroke)! And put a wet towel on his forehead to cool him down!"

As she spoke, she deftly pulled open the old man's collar, dampened a handkerchief with water, and applied it to his forehead. Her movements were fluid and practiced, and it certainly looked like the right thing to do. With a professional helping him, the surrounding family members and passersby breathed a sigh of relief.

Several family members were preparing to carry the elderly woman into the hall, following Bai Wei's instructions.

"Don't touch him!"

A crisp and rapid sound.

Shen Tang had somehow rushed into the middle of the crowd. She shoved the lunchbox in her hand into the hands of a stunned family member next to her, knelt down beside the old man, and precisely placed two fingers on the old man's carotid artery.

The pulse is weak and rapid, with an irregular rhythm.

She quickly lifted the old man's eyelids—his pupils were normal, ruling out a stroke. Then, her fingers slid down to the back of the old man's hand—

It was cold.

In the midday heat of nearly forty degrees Celsius, a person is drenched in sweat, yet their hands are icy cold.

Looking at his lips again—while those around him only noticed the old man's flushed face, Shen Tang saw that the edges of his lips were faintly turning purple. It wasn't the red of heat, but the cyanosis of lack of oxygen.

Finally, there were the old man's hands. He wasn't slumped to the ground unconsciously; instead, his hands were tightly gripping the front of his shirt, his knuckles white. This was an instinctive reaction to intense pain, not the relaxation that comes with heatstroke and loss of consciousness.

All the information converged into a clear judgment in less than three seconds.

"It's not heatstroke." Shen Tang raised her head, her voice urgent but unusually calm, her gaze fixed directly on Bai Wei.

"What nonsense are you talking about!" Bai Wei's face flushed instantly at being refuted in public. She shouted in a shrill voice, "He clearly has heatstroke! Look how much he's sweating! I'm a professional nurse, and you're just a country bumpkin who doesn't even know which way the hospital door faces—"

"He's sweating profusely!" Shen Tang interrupted her sharply without even looking up. "Heatstroke causes hot sweats, and the skin is burning hot! Touch his hands—they're ice cold! When angina attacks, the coronary arteries spasm, resulting in insufficient blood supply to the heart and poor peripheral circulation, causing cold hands and feet and profuse sweating! This is from the first chapter of the internal medicine textbook. Have you even studied it?!"

Bai Wei was startled by her stern voice and instinctively reached out to touch the back of the old woman's hand.

It really is...icy.