The place buzzed with life—people talking, gossiping, moving in and out of tents, some bringing sick relatives, others just curious.
Inside his tent, Ning Wen flipped through the papers of his third patient of the day, sitting neatly across from him. The air was heavy with the sound of chatter and footsteps outside; the medical camp had barely been open for an hour, yet it was already overflowing with patients.
"Mrs. Wu, these are the medicines I'm prescribing. Please make sure to take them on time," Ning Wen said, his voice calm and professional. His long lashes lowered as he focused on the notes, soft eyes carrying the kind of warmth that put people at ease. "I'll request you to visit tent twelve to check if the doctor there has these in stock. Otherwise, you may need to go to the pharmacy nearby."
The elderly woman smiled at him, clearly charmed by his manner. "Thank you, doctor. You're so young, yet so mature and kind."
Ning Wen returned the smile, gentle and polite.
"How long will you be staying here?" Mrs. Wu asked curiously. "I'd like to come back to you if I feel unwell again."
"Our camp will be here for two weeks," he replied. "You can visit anytime if your stomach starts troubling you again."
Mrs. Wu's eyes twinkled. "Oh, I'll be visiting every day then, young man!"
Ning Wen chuckled softly. "Then I'll be waiting for you, Mrs. Wu."
She laughed, gathering her bag as she stood. But before she could leave, she noticed a tall figure standing nearby—hands in his pockets, posture relaxed, eyes fixed on Ning Wen.
Ning Wen froze for a second when he realized it was Tang Zeyan, his calm face unreadable but his gaze steady.
Mrs. Wu gasped lightly. "Oh my, another handsome young man! Are you a doctor too, dear?" she asked, clearly delighted.
Tang Zeyan smiled politely. "No, aunty, I'm not a doctor. Just the assistant of the one sitting there." His tone carried a faint teasing note as he glanced toward Ning Wen.
Mrs. Wu chuckled. "So many good-looking young men helping each other. Our little village must be truly blessed." She shook her head with a laugh before finally leaving, still mumbling about her age.
As soon as she left, Ning Wen picked up the old telephone on his desk and dialed quickly. "Zhang Kai, I've sent a patient your way for the prescribed medicine. Make sure she gets the full dose and explain everything clearly. If you don't have the meds, help her find them elsewhere."
A brief confirmation came through, and Ning Wen hung up, immediately scribbling something on his clipboard. His expression stayed calm, composed—like Tang Zeyan wasn't even there.
Tang Zeyan leaned slightly against the table, amusement flickering across his face. "Doctor Ning Wen is so kind and professional… no wonder the old lady couldn't stop praising you."
Ning Wen ignored him, flipping to the next page.
Tang Zeyan's lips curved, a quiet laugh escaping him. "Still pretending I don't exist? Impressive."
Ning Wen acted as if nothing had happened, his pen gliding neatly across the paper.
Tang Zeyan's lips curved into a faint smile as he stepped closer, his movements unhurried, the sound of his shoes barely audible on the ground. Ning Wen didn't look up, pretending to stay focused, but his pen stopped mid-word for a fraction of a second—a tiny slip that betrayed more than he wished.
"Even when you ignore me… it somehow makes you even cuter," Tang Zeyan said softly, resting his hands on the edge of the desk. He leaned forward, gaze locked on Ning Wen.
Ning Wen's eyelashes trembled as he finally looked up, meeting those sharp yet teasing hazel eyes. His throat felt a little dry, but his voice stayed steady. "I'm not ignoring you. I don't talk when I'm working, and this is my working hour."
Tang Zeyan nodded, pretending to be convinced. "Ah, I see. But there's no patient in front of you at the moment," he said, standing straight again, a slow smirk forming. "Do you have to stay that serious even now? Or am I an exception?"
Ning Wen's heart did an uncomfortable flip, and he quickly looked away. "Don't get weird ideas," he muttered, continuing to write. His hand looked calm, but his ears were bright red.
Tang Zeyan noticed immediately. His gaze lingered there, lips curving in quiet satisfaction.
At that moment, a new patient appeared near the tent's entrance.
Ning Wen's relief was instant. "Please, come in," he said quickly before turning to Tang Zeyan with a pointed look. "Time for you to leave."
Tang Zeyan chuckled, stepping back. "Of course. I wouldn't dare disturb Doctor Ning Wen while he's saving lives. Keep it up."
Just as Ning Wen thought it was over, Tang Zeyan paused at the entrance, leaning slightly closer one last time, eyes locking with his. Calm. Confident. Unbothered. "But I'll be back."
And with that, he left—calm steps fading into the noise outside.
Ning Wen sat frozen for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, fingers trembling around the pen. His ears still burned red.
The patient's polite greeting finally snapped him back to reality. He straightened up, forced a professional smile, and began the check-up as if nothing had happened… though his pulse hadn't quite calmed yet.
Liang Yue, meanwhile, was living his best life in his own tent — legs crossed, chair tilted back just enough to look casual, chatting animatedly with a girl who was supposed to be his patient but looked more like his old friend.
"Listen, it might sound insane, but it's true," Liang Yue said confidently, waving a hand like some all-knowing guru. "You don't need heart surgery or medication. Your problem's not medical — you're just in love, dummy."
The girl, Wu Anya, blinked in confusion. "It's... love?" she asked softly, cheeks turning pink.
Liang Yue nodded like a doctor delivering a grand revelation.
"But... the person who makes me feel this way... she's a girl," Wu Anya whispered, voice barely audible, shy and hesitant.
Liang Yue didn't even flinch. "So what? Love's wild, unpredictable, and messy. It can happen with anyone — honestly, you're lucky yours is with a human. I fall for anything that looks hot for three seconds, even a man mannequin holding a coffee cup the right way in a shopping mall." He sighed dramatically before grinning again. "Anyway, here's your prescription: next time you see her, keep eye contact. If your heart starts acting up again, come back and report to me. Got it?"
Wu Anya nodded, laughing a little, and high-fived him before leaving the tent, looking a hundred times lighter than when she came in. Liang Yue leaned back, rubbing his hair with smug satisfaction. "Healing hearts — emotionally and physically. I'm a genius," he muttered under his breath.
Tang Ruihan, who'd been standing quietly in the corner the whole time, was completely speechless.
He'd been observing Liang Yue since the start — from the serious doctor who handled three complicated heart cases earlier with precise, professional focus, to this version of him now, acting like a chaotic love counselor. Tang Ruihan hadn't expected it. The shift from sharp and commanding to soft and charming was... unsettling. In a good way.
The way Liang Yue frowned in concentration earlier — that serious look replacing his usual dorky grin — had stuck in Tang Ruihan's mind. He hadn't looked away once, and honestly, he wasn't sure he could if he tried.
Liang Yue had been serious all the time from start, checking his every patient— all neat posture, focused eyes, and that calm professional tone that didn't suit his chaotic personality at all. But then came his fourth patient, Wu Anya, and the transformation was instant.
One second, he was Doctor Liang, calculating and sharp, the next he was back to his loud, smiling, talkative self — the kind of guy who looked like he belonged on a talk show, not a medical camp.
Tang Ruihan, watching from the side, was stunned. How could someone switch expressions that fast and still look so natural doing it? He honestly couldn't decide which version of Liang Yue was more dangerous — the serious one who made his heart stutter or the grinning idiot currently preaching about love like he had a PhD in romance.
Wu Anya had come in all nervous, convinced something was wrong with her heart. She described how it would start beating too fast, how it made her panic every time it happened. Liang Yue was serious at first — actually worried it might be a circulatory issue — until she hesitated and added that her heart only went crazy when she was around a certain person.
The realization hit him like lightning. He literally gasped. "Oh, so you're just in love!"
And from that moment on, the doctor was gone — replaced by a self-declared love therapist who clearly had zero real-life experience but all the enthusiasm in the world.
Tang Ruihan had to bite back a laugh the entire time. Watching Liang Yue talk, gesture wildly, and give completely unscientific advice with that bright, carefree smile — it was ridiculous... and endearing. Way too endearing.
The more Liang Yue spoke, the more Tang Ruihan found his gaze softening, his chest feeling oddly light. He liked the serious Liang Yue — that version was dangerously hot — but this one? This bright, silly, heart-on-sleeve version? That's the one that makes his ears go red, his heart and pulse race crazily.
Ning Wen leaned back in his chair, stretching his neck a little, the faint crack making him sigh in relief. Three hours of sitting still, listening, diagnosing, writing—his body was starting to complain. The sun had already dipped low, the sky outside bleeding into evening hues. He glanced at the clock, then at his little notebook lying open on the desk.
He flipped to a fresh page and began writing in that clean, meticulous handwriting of his. Notes on symptoms, reactions, rare cases—tiny details only someone like him would bother to record. It wasn't just a habit; it was his quiet ritual. Whenever he found a case he couldn't solve perfectly, he'd write it down, study later, and come back stronger next time. Ning Wen didn't just want to be a good doctor. He wanted to be the doctor people could trust completely.
He didn't notice when someone entered the tent, but Tang Zeyan stood there for a while, silent. Watching. His usual smirk was nowhere to be found—just a calm gaze that softened the longer he looked. The way Ning Wen's hair fell slightly over his forehead, the way his brows furrowed in concentration… it all tugged at something quiet in Tang Zeyan's chest.
Ning Wen finally looked up, sensing the presence. "Oh, you're back," he said, voice calm as always.
Tang Zeyan grinned. "Of course I am. Didn't I say I'd come back no matter what?"
That threw Ning Wen off just a bit, but he quickly hid it behind his usual composure.
Without saying anything more, Tang Zeyan placed a small plastic bag on the table, pulling out a few snacks and a cold drink. He twisted open the cap and handed it to Ning Wen.
It was only then Ning Wen realized how dry his throat was, how faintly his hands trembled from exhaustion. He hesitated, but the condensation on the bottle and the thoughtfulness behind the gesture made him soften.
He took it, his fingers brushing Tang Zeyan's for a fleeting second—warm against cold plastic.
Tang Zeyan's lips curved. "You looked like you needed that."
Ning Wen didn't answer, but the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth said enough.
"Thanks." Ning Wen took the bottle and tilted it back for a sip. The cold sweetness hit his throat, refreshing in a way that made his shoulders relax. Then he paused, glancing at the label.
Apple juice.
A quiet smile curved on his lips. "It's been a while since I drank this…" His voice carried a soft nostalgia. There was a time he practically lived on the stuff—morning, noon, and night. He'd stopped at some point, too busy or too grown-up to bother. But now, drinking it again, it felt oddly comforting. Even the brand was the same one he used to buy.
Tang Zeyan leaned a little closer, watching him with that unreadable half-smile. "What? You don't like it?"
Ning Wen shook his head, still smiling faintly. "No, I love it." He said it simply, unaware that the way his lashes fluttered as he looked down, the curve of his lips, and that tone of quiet warmth were currently destroying Tang Zeyan's internal stability.
Tang Zeyan's fingers curled against the edge of the desk. His pulse was a little too fast, and for once, he didn't have a single flirty line ready. "That's good… I love it too," he managed, trying for casual but coming out way too breathy. "Guess we have the same taste."
Ning Wen didn't notice. He chuckled softly, swirling the last bit of juice in the bottle. "I'd forgotten how much I liked it. You reminded me why. It's sweet, and it kind of… clears my mind. Wow, that sounded cringe, didn't it?" He smiled to himself, shaking his head. "I was such a weird kid."
Before he even realized it, the bottle was empty. He blinked down at it, a tiny pout forming.
Tang Zeyan didn't even think. He reached into the bag, grabbed another bottle, opened it, and placed it in front of Ning Wen—smooth, efficient, like he'd rehearsed it a thousand times.
Ning Wen looked up, genuinely surprised. Then he smiled—slow, gentle, radiant in the quiet tent light.
It was the kind of smile that could melt a snowstorm.
Tang Zeyan forgot to breathe for a second. His heartbeat was ridiculous, his face warm, his throat dry, and his brain short-circuiting. Ning Wen, completely unaware, took another sip, looking content and calm.
Meanwhile, Tang Zeyan was just standing there thinking one thing: so beautiful. And it was driving him insane.