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

November 15th. The day of the diagnostic test.

The exams are scheduled from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. – five subjects, Chinese, Mathematics, English, Physics and Chemistry, will be tested consecutively, with a ten-minute break in between.

Shen Tang glanced at the schedule and quickly did some mental calculations.

There are five exam papers, each with a maximum score of 100 points. Normally, it would take about 40 minutes to an hour to complete them. But if she doesn't need to check her work—she estimates she can hand in all the papers before 3:30.

I finished my exam at 3:30, rode my bike to the hospital, and arrived just in time for the 4:00 clinic opening.

Today is Wang Xiulian's follow-up appointment day, and she cannot be absent.

When Mu Qinghan learned that Shen Tang had an exam that afternoon, he frowned and said he would ask Dr. Chen to adjust his consultation schedule. Shen Tang waved her hand: "No need, there's enough time."

Mu Qinghan glanced at her and said, "Focus on your exam. If you're really running out of time, don't come over. I'll tell Old Chen."

……

The exam officially began at 1 p.m.

After the proctors handed out the exam papers, the only sounds in the classroom were the scratching of pencils across paper and the occasional rustling of pages turning.

Shen Tang received the first subject's Chinese exam paper and scanned the questions. It included basic vocabulary, classical Chinese reading, modern text analysis, and composition.

Twenty minutes later, the Chinese writing assignment was finished.

She raised her hand: "Teacher, can I submit this subject's paper early?"

The proctor looked up at the clock—only twenty minutes had passed. He hesitated for a moment: "According to the rules, students can only hand in their papers thirty minutes after the start of each subject."

"Okay." Shen Tang withdrew her hand, turned the test paper face down on the table, then took out the draft paper of the math test paper from her schoolbag and began to mentally rehearse the formulas she would need for the next subject.

Thirty minutes later, she was the first to stand up and hand in her paper.

Then comes mathematics.

Forty minutes. Hand in the paper early.

English. Twenty-five minutes.

Physics. Thirty-five minutes.

Chemistry. Thirty minutes.

At 3:20, Shen Tang stood up from her seat and handed in her last chemistry exam paper.

The proctor looked at her with a complicated expression—while others were still writing furiously for the third exam, she had already finished all of them and left.

"Student, are you sure you don't want to be checked?"

"OK. Thank you, teacher."

Shen Tang slung her backpack over her shoulder and silently left the classroom through the back door.

The corridor was deserted, all the classroom doors were closed, and the faint sound of pens scratching could be heard. She walked lightly and quickly on the terrazzo floor in her cloth shoes.

The classroom next door has windows on the door that allow you to see inside.

Ma Decai sat at his proctoring post, idly flipping through an old magazine. Yu Guangli suddenly noticed someone passing by in the corridor—he looked up and saw Shen Tang carrying a backpack and walking towards the stairs.

3:20.

Has she finished?

Ma Decai frowned slightly, but quickly relaxed.

He was certain he wouldn't get any of them. A weak foundation is a weak foundation. What good is guessing correctly on the entrance exam? A real comprehensive exam can't be solved with just one or two bonus questions.

Submitting the exam so early probably means they couldn't finish it and were just feeling uncomfortable sitting there, so they decided to hand it in and leave.

Even assuming she knew the answers and could finish the work, handing in the paper so far ahead without even checking it is ridiculous.

Pride comes before a fall. The smarter a student is, the more prone they are to careless mistakes. Submitting a paper without checking it only reveals one thing: a restless and impatient mindset. Such students will never amount to anything.

Ma Decai put down the magazine and chuckled.

Even if she barely does well on the test this time, it doesn't matter. After all, no matter how high one person's score is, it can't make up for the class average.

……

At 3:40, Shen Tang walked into the outpatient building of the military hospital.

She didn't have many appointments today—two wounded soldiers with lumbar spine injuries received massage, an officer with insomnia received acupuncture, and finally, Wang Xiulian had her regular follow-up appointment.

The treatment of the wounded and officers progressed smoothly and was completed in forty minutes.

At 4:30, Wang Xiulian pushed open the door and came in.

Today she wore a newly made red floral cotton-padded jacket, and her belly was already slightly protruding—more than three months pregnant, and the shape was already showing. She looked radiant, completely different from the sallow-faced, cold-handed woman she was six months ago.

"Tangtang!" Wang Xiulian greeted everyone with a broad smile as she entered the room. "Did you have an exam today? How did it go?"

"Not bad." Shen Tang patted the chair next to her, gesturing for her to sit down. "Sister-in-law, don't rush into conversation. Extend your hand so I can take your pulse."

Wang Xiulian obediently extended her wrist.

Shen Tang placed three fingers on it, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

The pulse is deep, steady, slippery, and forceful.

Having made up her mind, she carefully pressed on Wang Xiulian's abdomen and inquired about her recent diet, sleep, and physical reactions.

"Sister-in-law, your cold uterus is basically cured." Shen Tang withdrew her hand and smiled. "Your pulse is very stable, and the pregnancy is progressing well. Now, just focus on normal pregnancy care, keep warm, and avoid lifting heavy objects."

Wang Xiulian's eyes immediately reddened.

She gripped Shen Tang's hand, her voice trembling with tears, "Tangtang... thank you. Thank you so much. I've been married to Dahai for eight years... eight years..."

She couldn't continue speaking; she just held Shen Tang's hand tightly, tears streaming down her face.

Shen Tang grasped her hand and patted it gently: "Sister-in-law, don't cry. The baby's here, isn't it? The better days are yet to come."

……

At 5:30, Mu Qinghan's Jeep stopped right in front of the hospital.

Shen Tang finished packing and came out. Xiao Li had already opened the back door. Mu Qinghan was sitting in the passenger seat. He had brought an extra military overcoat with him today—it was for her.

"Put it on, it's cool in the breeze," he said without turning his head.

Shen Tang draped the military overcoat over her shoulders, sinking into the garment that was far too large for her, which smelled of soap and disinfectant.

The car started.

"How was your clinic day?" Mu Qinghan asked.

"Everything went smoothly," Shen Tang said, leaning back in the seat, her voice light and cheerful. "By the way, Sister Wang's cold uterus is basically cured. Her pulse is very stable, and the pregnancy is progressing well. Dr. Chen said she should have another full check-up next month, but based on the current situation, there shouldn't be any problems."

Mu Qinghan hummed in agreement.

After eight years of marriage, they finally had a child.

He couldn't help but think of himself.

Thinking back to that night—when Shen Tang called him "Brother Qinghan"—he felt the part of his body that had been sentenced to death suddenly revive.

A strong feeling of coming back to life.

He hasn't told anyone yet.

Including Dr. Chen. And also including her.

He didn't tell her because he was embarrassed, and he didn't tell Old Chen because he wasn't sure if it was a coincidence or a real recovery. He needed more time to confirm. But if—if he really recovered—

How is he supposed to tell her? Besides, they are still cousins ​​on the household registration.

"Brother Qinghan?"

Just as he was deep in thought, Shen Tang's voice came from the back seat, interrupting his thoughts.

"How's your leg recovering lately? Last week, Dr. Chen said you could walk twenty steps while holding onto the handrail—"

"Thirty steps," Mu Qinghan corrected.

"That's wonderful!" Shen Tang's voice rose several octaves, clearly delighted. "At this rate, you'll be able to get out of your wheelchair in another two or three months. Then—"

Her voice softened, carrying a certain certainty and warmth that Mu Qinghan had never heard from anyone else:

"You'll definitely be able to stand up again then, Qinghan-ge."

Mu Qinghan sat in the front row and did not turn around.

But his right hand was raised off the armrest.

Slowly, slowly, stretch it out to your side and behind.