Saturday was a beautiful day—bright sunshine and a cloudless sky.
Even inside the small clinic tucked into the alley, the chirping of birds in the trees outside could be heard clearly.
Qi Min sat on a chair while Doctor Wei Wenhua walked out of the X-ray room, holding the freshly taken scans and carefully examining them.
After a while, Wei Wenhua crouched down in front of Qi Min, removing the splint and bandages from his leg. He asked whether Qi Min had experienced any sharp pain at the fracture site during the recovery period.
Qi Min thought for a moment before shaking his head.
“Doctor Wei, what kinds of illnesses does your clinic mainly treat? Orthopedic injuries?”
“…Mostly general trauma, spine and lumbar issues, things like that,” Wei Wenhua replied.
Looking down at the top of Wei Wenhua’s head, Qi Min continued in a casual tone, “Oh… then do you often use anesthetics in the clinic? I’ve heard dentists use a lot of anesthesia. Do clinics like yours use it frequently too?”
While inspecting Qi Min’s injury, Wei Wenhua replied evenly, “It depends. For patients with minor bone fractures or inflamed nails that require removal, we sometimes use local anesthetics. But for more serious cases, we usually suggest they go to a major hospital for further treatment.”
“Overall, the use of anesthetics here isn’t high.”
“I see…”
Qi Min couldn’t see Wei Wenhua’s expression but noticed that the inspection seemed to be taking longer than usual.
“Doctor Wei, is there something wrong with my leg?” Qi Min asked, his tone probing.
“…Oh, no…” Wei Wenhua seemed to snap out of a daze.
He set Qi Min’s leg down, pressed his hands against his knees, and stood up.
Flashing a smile, he said, “The recovery is going well! Let me grab some ointment for you.”
Qi Min returned a polite, yet fake, smile.
As Wei Wenhua entered the pharmacy to get the medication, Qi Min’s expression immediately dropped. His eyes roamed the room, taking in the surroundings.
At the back of the clinic was the X-ray room where he’d just come from. Between the pharmacy and the X-ray room, there was another small room with a short curtain pulled across the entrance. From the gap beneath the curtain, Qi Min could see a medical examination table in the center, though the rest was obscured.
The room seemed to serve as a private area for patients to undress for examinations, preserving their privacy.
Other than the exam table, there were cabinets in the room.
As a male patient with a lower-leg injury, Qi Min had never been taken to this room.
Seeing that Wei Wenhua had his back turned, Qi Min stood up and quickly hopped toward the room on one leg.
With a swift motion, he pulled back the curtain.
“…?”
On the exam table lay a ball of fur atop a piece of cloth.
If Qi Min wasn’t mistaken, it was a cat.
Perhaps hearing the noise, the tabby cat raised its head, squinting its tired eyes at him and letting out a soft, weak meow.
The cat’s eyes were cloudy, and its teeth appeared yellowed and partially missing. Its fur was matted with dust and grime. It was clearly an elderly stray.
Qi Min’s sharp eyes noticed that the cat’s front leg was wrapped in a bandage.
Other than the cat, the room looked perfectly ordinary.
Wei Wenhua emerged from the pharmacy holding the ointment and explained, “That stray cat was hit by a car outside on the road. I brought it back to treat its injuries. I’ve already contacted a nearby animal rescue group—they should come pick it up around noon.”
“Now come back here and let me apply the ointment. Your leg isn’t fully healed yet, so stop hopping around!” Wei Wenhua added, looking at Qi Min with disapproval.
“…” Feeling a little embarrassed, Qi Min returned to his seat and muttered, “That cat’s so well-behaved. It’s been lying there quietly this whole time.”
Wei Wenhua didn’t respond as he crouched down to bandage Qi Min’s leg.
Trying to make conversation, Qi Min asked, “Doctor Wei, aren’t surgeons at big hospitals usually really busy? How do you find the energy to run a private clinic too?”
Wei Wenhua glanced up at him briefly, then continued wrapping the bandage. With a faint smile, he replied, “I don’t have many hobbies. I’m used to being busy at the hospital, so on the rare occasion I have one or two days off, I actually find it a little unsettling.”
“Since I had the energy and time, I decided to open a clinic where I can see patients on weekends. It gives me the chance to slow down, carefully talk with patients, and provide better care. Seeing my patients recover makes me happy.”
Wei Wenhua sighed and added, “But there are things I’ve only come to realize after opening this clinic. Many patients refuse to go to major hospitals, even when their conditions are serious. They just come to small clinics like mine for basic medication and delay proper treatment… Some of them can’t afford it. They keep dragging things out.”
“There are even low-income families without health insurance. For them, going to a hospital isn’t a matter of health awareness—it’s that life is just too hard.”
“I hope that by running this clinic, as a professional doctor, I can help these people in some way.”
After finishing the splint and standing up, Wei Wenhua’s image in Qi Min’s mind grew a few sizes taller.
Scratching his nose, Qi Min stood up with his crutch and said with genuine admiration, “You really are a good doctor, Doctor Wei.”
After thinking for a moment, he added, “Doctors like you are rare these days.”
Wei Wenhua gave a faint smile but didn’t reply, instead shifting the topic back to Qi Min’s condition. “Your fracture is healing well—no joint adhesions or swelling. There’s some mild muscle atrophy, but that’s normal.”
“You can’t move your leg yet, but you can do some training by contracting your calf muscles. Make sure to eat more high-protein foods…”
After giving these instructions, he handed Qi Min some calcium tablets. “Your condition is stable now, and I’m sure your studies keep you busy. You can come in for check-ups every two to three weeks. If everything goes well, we can remove the screws in about a month.”
Qi Min thanked him, took the tablets, and left the clinic.
Standing at the door, Wei Wenhua watched Qi Min hobble away on his crutches.
Only after his figure disappeared at the alley’s entrance did Wei Wenhua return to the clinic.
Sitting behind his desk, he flipped through a book for a while before hearing a soft whimper from the back room.
Putting down the book, he walked into the exam room. The stray cat was awkwardly licking its bandaged front leg, its saliva soaking the gauze.
Wei Wenhua watched silently for a moment before walking to a cabinet and retrieving a vial of injectable liquid.
He used a small grinding wheel to break the ampoule, then drew the liquid into a syringe.
Walking to the exam table, he gently soothed the nervous, whimpering cat, carefully injecting the liquid into its body bit by bit.
The room was dimly lit, and Wei Wenhua’s expression was hidden in the shadows.
Outside the curtain, only the faint sound of the cat’s cries could be heard, growing softer and softer until they disappeared entirely.
When Qi Min returned home, he sat in his chair, opened the bottle of calcium tablets, and carefully examined the pills inside.
Oval and milky white, they gave off a faint milky scent—just like ordinary calcium tablets.
He closed the lid, put the bottle deep into his drawer, and took out an older box of calcium tablets he had been using instead.
It was still a month until the Dragon Boat Festival1The Dragon Boat Festival (端午节, Duanwu Jie) is a traditional Chinese holiday celebrated on the 5th day of the 5th lunar month, which usually falls in late May or June in the Gregorian calendar. It is a time for honoring ancient traditions, fostering family togetherness, and remembering a historic poet., late spring, and the weather alternated between warmth and chill
Yet Qi Min had already started feeling the lethargy of summer, often drowsy and listless. It wasn’t until the week before exams that his energy started to return.
But while Qi Min felt drained, his classmates seemed to grow more energetic—almost unnaturally so.
He even witnessed one classmate jump off the school building in the morning, only to sit back at their desk as if nothing had happened by the afternoon.
Well… aside from the fact that their clothes were still stained with blood, and their head was slightly flattened.
It would’ve been better if they could at least tidy themselves up a bit.
Sun Xiaoxiao was no longer the shy, reserved girl who used to steal glances at Qi Min.
Their growing familiarity emboldened her. Even during class, Sun Xiaoxiao would turn her head a full 180 degrees, staring at him with an intense, burning gaze.
To everyone else, it seemed like a cute girl had a massive crush on Qi Min. Hao Peng, ever the romantic, was convinced that Sun Xiaoxiao had fallen for him.
With the entire class trying to play matchmaker, Qi Min politely declined the suggestion.
The disappointed crowd, robbed of their gossip fodder, expressed their regret loudly.
From then on, the group of people watching Qi Min wasn’t just Sun Xiaoxiao—it now included the begrudged classmates who felt like they’d lost a juicy drama.
Meanwhile, Hao Peng had evolved into a competitive eater.
One day, the chef at You Ji Restaurant outdid himself, serving an entire uncooked pig on a platter, its blood still dripping.
Before Qi Min could say anything, Hao Peng was already tearing into it, putting on an impressive display of “devouring a sow without raising his head.”
Incredible.
And afterward, Hao Peng acted like nothing had happened—he even wanted to order another one.
Qi Min had quickly gone from shock to calm acceptance, rapidly adjusting his mindset.
Amid this chaos, he somehow managed to get along harmoniously with the strange “classmates” around him.
Occasionally, when he visited Doctor Wei’s clinic, the normalcy of Wei Wenhua and the clinic itself felt almost out of place to Qi Min.
Time passed, and soon it was final exam season. Qi Min visited Wei Wenhua for two more checkups before the exams.
The most recent one was a week before the exams, which happened to fall on the Dragon Boat Festival.
After the checkup, Wei Wenhua determined that Qi Min’s fracture had reached clinical recovery and that he could prepare to have the screws removed at Dongcheng Hospital in a week.
However, with exams coming up, Qi Min didn’t want any distractions and postponed the surgery until the day after the exams.
The delay was less than a week and wouldn’t significantly affect recovery. Since post-surgery rehabilitation would take time anyway, starting during summer vacation seemed ideal. Wei Wenhua agreed.
Still, Wei Wenhua advised Qi Min to inform his parents and friends in advance, as he would need to stay in the hospital for a few days after the surgery. If the school required anything, Qi Min should also notify his teachers.
The exams ran from June 26th to 28th.
Qi Min’s school had a packed schedule, and instead of taking a break after the exams, they used June 29th and 30th to announce results and go over the test papers.
But Qi Min wouldn’t be attending those post-exam sessions—he would be at the hospital undergoing surgery, and then recovering.
Habits are a terrifying thing.
Blocking out the classmate next to him, who had extended their neck a full meter in an attempt to copy his answers—resembles Luffy from One Piece, Qi Min raised his head and glanced at the invigilator.
The teacher’s head was flying around the exam hall, observing everyone from above.
Could someone maintain a normal perception of reality after being in such an abnormal environment for so long?
As he casually answered the exam questions, Qi Min suddenly felt a warm breath behind his ear.
He tilted his head slightly.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the invigilator’s head floating just behind him, staring intently at… his exam paper?
Until now, the head had been moving at high speed, zipping across the room. Now that it had stopped, Qi Min finally noticed something: the face belonged to none other than their homeroom teacher.
Ignoring it, Qi Min turned back to his test.
In these situations, if he didn’t react, the head usually drifted away after a while.
This was the final exam.
Glancing at the watch he’d just bought before the exam, Qi Min estimated he had about ten minutes left before he could finish the paper and leave early.
With that in mind, he picked up the pace.
But this time, the head didn’t move.
Not at all.
The Author has something to say:
Qi Min: “I was genuinely touched! (throws away calcium tablets) It was all an act!”
Shang Jingshui: “…”
Note: “Testing the waters” is an idiom that means to try something out or explore a situation cautiously to gauge its reaction or determine if it will succeed. It often involves taking small steps to see how people respond or to assess potential outcomes before making a full commitment.
