103 Healing Wounds

“Where am I?”

Zhong Yun slowly opened his eyes to see a pristine white ceiling above him. The surroundings were utterly silent, as if far removed from the bustle of the world.

He tried to stand, but his entire body felt limp and powerless, as if wrapped in a soft cloud.

“Am I dead?” Zhong Yun wondered. Surprisingly, there was no fear or pain in his heart—only an unprecedented sense of peace.

“You’re awake.” A voice, pure and melodious as a heavenly choir, sounded beside him. The still lake of Zhong Yun’s calm heart rippled gently, as if a stone had been cast into its depths.

A face, as clear and pure as flowing water, appeared before his eyes. It was indescribable—especially the eyes, like an ancient spring that had existed since time immemorial. From those eyes, he saw only himself.

“Are you an angel?” Zhong Yun murmured, as if in a dream.

The face smiled, revealing a row of snow-white teeth between rosy lips. “Yes, I am a white-clad angel.”

“Will I become an angel too?” Zhong Yun gazed at that face, enchanted by the smile that stirred ever-widening ripples in his heart.

The smile deepened, long lashes fluttering. “Do you want to become an angel?”

“No,” Zhong Yun shook his head, surprising her.

“Why not?” she asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

“Because...” Zhong Yun closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Once you become an angel, you can never see your loved ones again.”

The doctor’s smile faded, and her clear eyes grew complex as she looked at his ordinary face.

“You saved me, didn’t you?” Zhong Yun opened his eyes, now clear and bright.

“Saving lives is a doctor’s duty,” she said softly, placing her delicate hand upon his forehead.

He felt a cool touch, then caught a faint, pure fragrance unlike any flower he had ever smelled—clean and fresh, like the untouched first snow.

Focusing on the scent, it vanished; relaxing brought it back again. When he tried to isolate it, it disappeared once more. The fragrance was like a shy little girl who vanished just as you tried to catch her.

Zhong Yun was amazed—this scent was strangely similar to the lullaby he once used to hypnotize Qin Qun, detectable only when the body was utterly relaxed.

Could she be a master of hypnosis? A chill ran through Zhong Yun’s heart.

“Doctor, what kind of perfume is that? It smells wonderful.” Zhong Yun smiled innocently, a smile that had once pierced through Dong Wan’s thick defenses and won her friendship.

The female doctor’s eyes flickered with surprise—she hadn’t expected him to notice. She shook her head. “I never wear perfume.”

“I see,” Zhong Yun pondered, “then it must be coming from you.”

“Oh?” She glanced at him with a half-smile. “Is that so?” Anyone bold enough to tease her never fared well.

“Because you’re a doctor, and I’m a patient. Seeing you makes me feel at ease, like when I was a child lying in my mother’s arms, so comfortable,” Zhong Yun said, staring at the white ceiling as if recalling a distant memory. “That’s a mother’s scent.”

The woman’s cheeks flushed—a rare blush for a single woman being likened to a mother. The military was full of audacious men, and handsome doctors often endured such playful teasing. But offending her meant bad luck unless you were never injured or sick; she was far more fearsome than any ruthless drill instructor.

She wasn’t sure if Zhong Yun was sincere or just putting on a show to catch her attention. Looking at his youthful face, she thought he was too young and untrained for such a convincing act. Deciding not to dwell on it, she moved on.

“Since you’re awake, we can’t leave the bed empty. The infirmary has limited beds,” she said, recording his condition before leaving.

Soon after, a nurse wheeled in a bed. Seeing the boy cheerfully waving at him, Zhong Yun felt a headache coming on.

“I heard you broke the bald instructor’s arm with one punch,” Fei Liming gave a thumbs-up. “Well done.”

Two nurses helped transfer Zhong Yun to the new bed, then pushed the empty cart away.

“Looks like you’re badly hurt,” Zhong Yun wanted to laugh but held it back.

Fei Liming sheepishly said, “I’ve never been beaten this badly in my life.”

Zhong Yun chuckled quietly but said nothing. Staring at the face before him, he found no words. He closed his eyes and began to focus on recovery. The punch had drained all his internal energy; though he injured the bald instructor, the cold energy had nearly killed him. Now he was utterly exhausted, completely depleted.

By mealtime, Zhong Yun had gathered a little energy, though progress was painfully slow without Xiao Ling’s help. He needed to find a way back to the dormitory.

Not long after, a nurse brought his meal and was about to leave when Zhong Yun called out, “Nurse.”

She looked no older than twenty; calling her “sister” felt awkward.

“Yes?” Her tone was indifferent, perhaps because Zhong Yun’s appearance was unremarkable.

“This place is too stuffy. I want to go back to the dorm,” he said.

“No,” she refused without hesitation. “Your body isn’t fully healed; you can’t leave.”

“I just wanted to say hello,” Zhong Yun shrugged and fell silent.

The nurse frowned and left. After a while, the female doctor returned, lighting up the room as she entered.

“I heard from the nurse you want to leave?” she regarded Zhong Yun like a mischievous little brother.

“Yes.” Zhong Yun propped himself up. “It’s too stifling here.”

“Didn’t I find you a companion?” The doctor was patient.

Zhong Yun pouted softly. “He’s like a block of wood—so dull.”

The doctor glanced at Fei Liming, who lowered his head, his pale face flushing crimson. A block of wood, indeed, she thought.

“That’s not possible. Your body needs more observation before you can leave.” She considered a moment, then whispered so only Zhong Yun could hear, “How about this—I’ll lend you my portable computer to keep you entertained. But no more talk about leaving, understood?”

She pulled a small pink computer from her pocket, clearly prepared.

Zhong Yun rolled his eyes. Here, he would heal more slowly. But with no strength to walk, he had no choice but to stay.

P.S.: Some readers have commented that there are too many female characters, making it seem like a hareem story. But not every female character appearing will be taken by the protagonist; some are merely background figures.

At last, a new week begins—please support with votes.