Zhenyang.
09:00 AM.
It was morning, but if one closed their eyes and opened them again, they might think it was late evening, when the blanket of dusk surrenders to the night. This was a consequence of the rain that had persisted since yesterday evening; although it had now stopped, a persistent drizzle continued, preventing the city from fully drying.
And the people added to this atmosphere by their absence. Even though it was a Friday, not a weekend when everyone rests their weary bodies, the streets were sparsely populated, with many residents still wrapped in blankets and blissful sleep.
It was a maroon Accord sedan, polished to a distracting shine by the drizzle, its tires rolling slowly until it turned onto a street where a side plaque bore the name 'Lawson Street'. Like everywhere in this part of the new elite street, it was a well-maintained street lined with a variety of elegant houses and a smooth, tarred road, also cleansed by the rain.
Inside the car were two people: a driver named Yamata, who looked no older than thirty-five, and an elderly woman seated in the back, Qiaoxi. At first glance! She was draped in a cream-colored headwrap that accentuated her fair complexion and the sharpness of her jawline-a sight that would be indecipherable to a stranger.
But to one who knew her,a single look would reveal the profound anxiety and tension on her face, for her large eyes were incapable of hiding the state of her heart.
Both her hands were clenched around a small handbag filled with stacks of documents and a considerable amount of cash. Perhaps she also held the bag to keep her body's trembling from being exposed to Yamata, who, ever since their departure from the hotel where they had stayed in the city, had been reassuring her that everything would go according to plan. According to plan.
A plan she had spent over a decade sketching on the canvas of her memory, visualizing with her eyes, and beautifying in her dreams... But what do they say? Nothing in this world is permanent. Today, all those plans and preparations were behind her; today was the day she faced everything. She adjusted her headwrap, still uncertain if it was appropriate for this occasion, as she didn't know what was most fitting for a woman who had come searching for her son to wear.
"Ma'am, we've reached Block E. Let me call him."
Yamata's voice pierced through her thoughts. He stopped looking out the window and pulled the car to the curb. She turned to look at where they had stopped on the right side, then glanced at the paper in her hand. The last line read...
Block E,Lawson Street, New Elite Phase 2.
Below that was the name and the final phone number of the man who would be their intermediary to the son she had spent years searching for in the shadows...YIBO! Her Yibo!
Emmanuel Eliote, +93375....'
As she looked up, Yamata was already on the phone, dialing the number. She knew he had long since stored the contacts of everyone they had dealt with throughout their journey from the beginning until now. He was the kind of diligent and energetic person she had deduced him to be, which was why she had bypassed everyone else to draw him into the years-long struggle.
"Okay, we're outside waiting."
After the short conversation, Yamata gave his response into the phone. She quickly reopened her bag, grabbed a sum of money whose amount she didn't even know, and offered it to him.
"If he comes out, add this to what you're already giving him."
"Ma'am, please..."
Yamata said, shaking his head.
"These people are fearsome. If he sees we're giving him extra, he might think we are carrying a lot more money, and things could take an unexpected turn. Let me handle it with just the amount we agreed upon."
There was no use arguing. She withdrew the money back into her bag because he had already stated his case, and she couldn't possibly insist. After about five minutes, her feet were tapping with intense anticipation and frustration when a door in Block E opened. A large man emerged, dressed lightly, and hurriedly, avoiding the puddles, he quickly reached the car, opened the front passenger door, and got in.
His distinct scent mixed with the air inside the car, causing Qiaoxi's heart to pound harder and her worries to intensify.
"The place is just two corners from here. Let's move."
He said this without bothering to look at anyone in the car.Without a word, Yamata started the engine, and the tires slid onto the wet road.
Qiaoxi's eyes followed the man's shoulders with a look that yearned to see more.
How could she have ever imagined that because of this man,she would hope to see her son's face again? Before, she would have denied any dream where someone told her this, let alone accepted its possibility...
Such is life! Her heart sighed as a tear gathered in her eye and fell. She felt its warmth on her skin while her memory recalled a different time, a period from which the word 'before' had faded.
When she was carrying Yibo and his brother inside her,when their movements soothed her loneliness, and after they were born, her fingers would struggle to release his hand when she held him. When she would press him to her chest while he cried for no apparent reason, while his twin brother lay sleeping; that's how she would spend every night, pacing around the house holding him in her arms until the whispers she uttered into his ears calmed his cries, and she could begin to feel the beating of his heart against hers...
And now, she found herself so distant from him that she could only hope, through this crude man, that time would reunite them. Simultaneously, her eyes filled with a hot, stinging fluid whose bitterness she felt deeply.
And through the film of tears, she saw his face. His face on the last day she saw him... The day her world shattered. The day of A Bo's death. The day Yibo walked in, carrying his twin brother body on his shoulders. She remembered how he held her and the corpse at that moment, letting out a kind of cry that she would swear before any power Yibo had never made before. She simply closed her eyes slowly as the tear traced a path down to her lips.
In the darkness behind her eyelids, she saw the faces of her two sons, this time together. The two boys whom, from the very beginning of their existence, life had created within her and brought into the world at the same time. Yet, if one didn't know, it was hard to tell they were twins, for from appearance to demeanor, each was distinct from his brother.
A Bo was fair-skinned like her, a cheerful people-person, easy-going, and quick to make friends with his abundant smile that never left his face. He was also ambitious and eager to please those around him with all his heart. He was the kind of person who, if you met him once, would capture your heart, and if you became familiar with him, you would be amazed at how your life had ever proceeded without him.
Yibo's complexion was not as fair as A Bo's, but his skin had a bright tone if you considered it neutrally. And perhaps a list of his characteristics could fill a volume that would take hours to read. For even in their childhood, one could tell them apart as easily as telling apart one's fingers. A Bo would join children everywhere, playing as if there were no tomorrow, but Yibo would always stay on the sidelines, just watching everyone. And if A Bo was out, Yibo would wait for him to finish whatever he was doing, even if it was wrong.
Countless times, her husband son, Duan, had scolded them whenever A Bo was caught playing or had convinced the children to go wandering, especially after being picked up from school. And wherever they went, they went together, but Yibo would simply follow them until eventually A Bo would get tired, turn around, and say they should go home. When they returned, she could tell with a single glance what had happened because A Bo would return with his clothes like a ditch digger's, but Yibo's body was never stained with dirt. It was a lie to say his clothes ever got wrinkled or visibly soiled. He could meticulously keep every single thing that belonged to him perfectly arranged, unlike A Bo, whose belongings never knew order.
Yibo was a person of depth, firm opinions, and a kind of unfathomable heart. What he wanted was often at odds with popular opinion, and once he spoke, no one could change his mind-and he meant every word! Furthermore, if he was upset, he doubted no one and spared no one the words on his mind. Therefore, his demeanor was often perceived as increasingly aloof due to people's lack of understanding.
That was why he was always withdrawing from people, keeping his distance from them and directing his anger at anyone who crossed him. This constantly worsened the fragile relationship between him and his father, a relationship that had been weak even before he could stand firmly on his feet in this world.
Their father, Mr. Wang Haozhi, was a man of rigid opinions and a desire to mold his children according to the vision in his heart. From the time his twins, Yibo and A Bo, were young, he chose everything for them-from their education to their social lives. No one was capable of advising him about them, let alone challenging him.
This was his nature. Even before he had children of his own, he could transform anything under his control into something more profitable with a single maneuver. It was this trademark trait that had brought him immense success in his timber business, to the point where he owned his own integrated company that manufactured all kinds of wood products, each one so refined and superior it became the benchmark in its category.
Yet he himself knew this trait of his was not universally effective, for his stubbornness was the reason for his separation from his first wife, who had borne him two sons, Duan and Tao... But after her, when he remarried, everything continued, for he found her to be of a profoundly cold temperament and with a patience such that she would never open her mouth to challenge him, no matter what he said.
He therefore continued to believe that any path he chose was the right one, that it would unfold for him into a beneficial destination. He was convinced that his thinking was superior to the masses, certain that what he could envision was not seen by others, and that nothing he did was ever wrong.
Then there was Yibo, who was different. Different from his brother and different from everyone else, even from his two younger sisters, Qile and Que, born after them. Yibo alone would voice his opinion whenever something displeased him. He alone would refuse to do something if he didn't want to. He alone challenged his father. He alone would say,
"That's your opinion,Dad. Let me do what I want..."
Such statements, since his childhood, became the foundation for his estrangement in his father's eyes. He no longer evoked the same affection as his other children. Wang Haozhi wouldn't involve him in his affairs, even saying to his wife,
"This boy has a problem,I'm telling you. Take him to the hospital to be checked."
He was convinced in his mind that Yibo had a mental disorder.It was only later, as Yibo grew older and he understood this was simply his different nature, that he tried to use the force of his authority as a father to break him, but that achieved nothing but further deterioration.
He inadvertently opened up other, previously unknown aspects of Yibo's character, making the boy's heart harden against him. Yibo became convinced that his father didn't love him, and his father confirmed this for him one day when Yibo was brought home from school after fighting with his teacher for punishing him when he had done nothing wrong.
Yibo was ten years old at the time, standing before him with his hands tied with his own school shirt, which had been removed. Wang Haozhi shook his head, looking at him with disappointment, and then uttered the words that would become the first entry in the ledger Yibo would keep.
"A wretched child, maybe you shouldn't be born Yibo!"
And despite Yibo's young age at that time, the look he gave his father was also indescribable as a tear welled in his eyes...a tear that hadn't gathered from all the bullying at school, but at this moment when his memory confirmed a suspicion and a long-held apprehension about his father.
And after he grew older, everything became more complicated rather than easier, as was always expected of him. Everyone increasingly distanced themselves from him due to their lack of understanding. He became isolated, and aside from his mother, only his brother A Bo had any closeness in his life.
A Bo was always the one to align with Yibo's perspective. He never bothered himself with the differences in their temperaments, nor did he ever feel anything negative about his twin. In fact, if you wanted to see him truly upset, you only needed to criticize Yibo, even if what you said was true. This was the bond that life creates between certain twins, the thread that connected them.
But many people were actually afraid of Yibo. The deep, sharp tone of his voice alone was enough to make any kind of person pause what they were doing and look up at him. If he was upset and that tone was mixed with a raised voice, you would feel a peculiar sensation in your chest the entire time he was speaking.
---
Back in the present world, pulled from her thoughts, Qiaoxi heard Yamata concluding his conversation with Emmanuel. So, she set all her thoughts aside, opened her eyes slowly, and with one hand wiped the tears that had begun to dry on her face. Despite the reluctance in her heart, she couldn't sit up straight until Emmanuel's voice uttered something that struck her core.
"The house is there, the one at the far end..."
He said this just as Yamata parked the car at the very end of the street. It was then that she looked up, her eyes feeding the image of the house to her memory...
On the whole street, this building stood apart. It was unique, without equal, as the houses were mostly uniform estates, but this one stood alone on its own plot. Forever, her Yibo was different. He never associated with anyone and never tried to endear himself to anyone. Everything about him was distinct in life, a difference that made everyone lift their eyes to look at him.
"I'm sure, Ma'am, this is the house. The young man I saw in your photos lives here."
Emmanuel's voice came as he too was studying the intricate design of the house.
Qiaoxi didn't even hear him properly because of the state her heart was in. She simply placed her bag and the other documents she had brought with her to the side, then opened the car door just as Yamata was opening the dashboard compartment to show Emmanuel his money.
The first cold, damp air hit her face with a sensation that made everything seem unreal, as if it weren't really happening. She felt as if she were dissolving into the kind of dreams she had had for years, the ones she would wake from in years past. As her shoes sank into the wet ground outside, she realized it wasn't just her hands....even her feet were unsteady...
The city's overcast atmosphere further convinced her that nothing was real, that everything was now a dream. It was as if a door would open and the voice of one of her children, Que, would wake her. But she pushed everything aside, moved her heart, and stepped onto the slope, crossing the small drainage ditch and approaching the house, which seemed to grow larger in her eyes.
She felt the drizzle settling on her headscarf and the cold air piercing through her, but she didn't care. To describe the state she was in to someone who has lost a loved one...a mother, a father, a sibling, or a life partner whose death has severed your heart...if you were then told that the person you were mourning was not dead, and you should go to a certain door to find them... well, that would describe what she was feeling.
Her hand pushed the small gate of the house open, and she entered, paying no attention to anything in the compound until her eyes fixed on the main entrance door. It was green. She only became aware of this after she realized her shoes had slipped off her feet without her knowing, for it was when she stepped onto the dry porch of the door, free from the dampness, that she understood they had slipped off her feet from the moment she passed the gate.
Without wasting a moment, her hand landed on the small bell fixed beside the house door. She pressed it, then stepped back, scrutinizing the door with a deeply pounding heart...
Behind this door, Yibo would appear! Yibo! Her Yibo! This son who had grown inside her! This son who had told her he couldn't live without her, that she was his strength and also his weakness! This son whom she loved more than all her other children!
She simply pressed the bell again,pressing it without restraint, her hand not stopping, and her heart not ceasing to tell her that she would stand there doing this until the door opened...!
✨✨✨
I live like an ascetic and my mind wanders around, now where will this vagrancy take me?
Yibo.
Primecare Hospital. Beijing.
02:30pm
The door opened abruptly, because Dr. Yibo didn't knock. He didn't knock on anyone's door; everyone in the hospital already knew this about him. Just as he had opened the door to the operating theater and entered directly, so he opened every door he entered, each one signifying his direct approach.
This was his habit, not one he consciously cultivated, but the very thought of knocking simply never occurred to him. That's why even now, he just pushed the door open and entered, despite this door being different from every other in the hospital. Above it, letters were inscribed in a gleaming metal that spelled out the name 'Professor Fan Shutong,' while below, his position and title were written...a fact everyone in the hospital knew by heart: 'Owner / Proprietor.'
Simultaneously, the scent of old papers, mingled with a cologne that Yibo had memorized as Mr. Fan's signature scent, reached his nostrils before his eyes settled on the man. He was sitting behind the large, clear desk in the office, which was laden with stacks of papers, a desktop screen, and some commonly used items.
On every part of the office walls were complex, custom-built shelves. Their design and craftsmanship alone were enough to captivate you, even without the collections of books arranged in order on them...books that, even at a fleeting glance, would convince you their owner had reached the pinnacle of academic achievement.
Yibo forced himself to calm down slowly after uttering the greeting to which the Professor had replied without taking his eyes off the computer screen in front of him.
His feet stopped right in front of the desk, and instead of taking one of the two chairs nearby to sit, he simply bowed deeply until he was almost on his knees, then his deep voice spoke.
"Sir,good afternoon."
"Good afternoon to you, Yibo. Are we well?"
The older man's confident voice replied without even looking at him yet.
"I am well, thank you."
Yibo bowed his head. The older man then turned and looked at him. Yibo was wearing a modern-style Hanfu, made of a sleek, crisp white fabric! The garment's sharp lines made his seated posture appear even more rigid, which accentuated the breadth of his shoulders, adding to the aura of confidence people saw in him. He wore no hat, only his neatly kept black hair. The black hair in turn highlighted the radiance of his skin, which revealed a tranquility and contentment that time had brought him.
If you looked at him,you wouldn't think he was a doctor, let alone a surgeon. If he were in the hospital, one would expect to see the surgeon in green or blue scrubs, with sleeves stained with blood, especially since Mr. Fan had sent for him and it was reported that he was in the middle of an operation. But the Professor himself knew, and would testify anywhere, that from the day he met Yibo, he had never seen him in any state that showed dirt or the like, even in situations where life and death were happening around him.
"Stand up and sit. Get up."
Yibo straightened up,found one of the chairs, and sat down, his eyes still cast downward, his eyelashes so thick they seemed to veil his eyes completely.
"You came in on Monday but we didn't meet."
Yibo bowed his head.
"Well,no Monday comes easily, Sir. Sometimes we even get five patients in a single day."
"And you're sure that when you get those five patients, you don't forget any metal inside them, right?" Unexpectedly, Yibo made a smile that parted his lips. He hadn't expected a day they would meet without a teasing from the Prof.
The Prof also bowed his head, a smile on his face again.
"Well,I'm proud, really."
He said what he always said to him,whenever. Yibo bowed his head again in a gesture of acknowledgment without saying anything.
"Will you make us a tea? For the matter we need to discuss, I think we'll need that tea." Something stirred in Yibo's chest at that moment. Indeed, since he heard Mr. Fan's call, he knew it wasn't a trivial matter. His mind flashed to the face of the CMO(Chief Medical Officer), because even if he tried to evade it, he knew this was his was doing reporting him to the Prof.
He simply stood and walked over to a small fridge nearby where the tea things were kept. There was a kettle beside it, plugged into a socket. He poured the hot water from it into two mugs, made the tea, then brought them over.
He placed one on the desk for the Professor and then returned to his seat,holding his own without drinking, as he didn't even know if he would drink it.
The Prof took his cup, brought it to his mouth, sipped slowly, then set it down. From the papers in front of him, he pulled out one and handed it to Yibo, who took it immediately, his eyes falling on the name written in bold, red ink.
Surgical Recovery & Reintegration Initiative. (SRRI)
He just swallowed something in his throat slowly and said.
"Sir,they have contacted me, and I have already given them my answer."
The Professor nodded.
"Exactly,they told me you turned them down. Twice."
Yibo bit his lip slightly.
"With respect sir, I'm a surgeon. I don't lead social programs. You know, I don't like anything that involves me interacting with people."
He said it in a quiet voice, but a certain sharpness emerged in the Professor's hearing.
Silence prevailed for a few moments before Professor Shutong reached out,took his tea, drank, and said.
"This program isn't an NGO or some other organization.It's a program that came from the government, the Federal Ministry of Health, and it will be piloted in only two hundred private hospitals across the entire country. I heard about this program the year the initiative was announced, even before the request went to the head of state. I don't have to sit here and tell you the struggles I went through to get this hospital's name included in the list where this program will be first tested. Now we have it,along with the promise that if we achieve the desired results, we will be given a permanent license to run it here at this hospital forever. We will be among the first hospitals to start this support program, and I don't even need to tell you the victories we will gain from it. Partnerships, funding, global visibility... It's just something that will put us on the map."
Yibo bowed his head.
"I know, Sir. That's why I'm also suggesting that you choose someone who can handle it. There are other doctors in this hospital besides me, those who are used to this kind of patient follow-up work. In my opinion, they would be more suitable than me, since from the beginning of my career, nothing has involved me with patients. You know Sir, I only meet my patients anesthetized and unconscious. I don't think there is a single person I have operated on who knows me, and I don't attend meetings."
He raised his head as he said this, looking into the eyes of the elder, whom he himself knew possessed a strong character, insisting that he would not accept the job simply because he genuinely did not want it.
"The need is not for someone who is used to people, Yibo. The need is for someone who will be diligent, who will do this work with all his effort so we can succeed and scale this project. And when it comes to that, I don't see anyone but you, because I know you'll do it right no matter what."
He said this while looking into Yibo's eyes, still seeing no sign that his words were winning him over.
If one were to be stopped and asked what stubbornness was in this world, surely Yibo's face would begin to appear. The Professor had known this since the first day he met him. It was just fortunate that the rational part of his brain dominated his will, which was why not everyone understood this.
And all these explanations the Professor had given him, he already knew them anyway. He was just repeating them in his effort to defend himself, because he truly did not want to do such work, he knew it. And throughout the years he had worked at this hospital, he had never been burdened with anything like it. Everything the Professor said about how it would be done, the support he would give him, was without challenge.
That was how his work was:calm, focused, and diligent. The Professor knew that if one sat at a table to share the hospital's successes since he started working with them, surely Yibo would take the largest share, for his name had already become famous in the surgical department. Ever since his return, the hospital had become known as the most prominent for performing high-quality surgeries.
That was why, even when this opportunity came, no one else was considered before Yibo, because he knew that diligence like his was what would achieve the desired goal. That was why he had prepared himself for all the resistance he knew Yibo would put up, and he had resolved in his heart that he must make him accept his offer, whether he wanted to or not.
So, he just set the cup in his hand down and then took off his glasses.
For the first time since they started talking,he called him by his name.
"Yibo..."
"If all these explanations I've given are not enough to make you accept this offer, then I think the time has come for you to repay the debt you owe me."
Simultaneously, the words landed like a physical blow, for Yibo could swear he felt the impact in his face. His breath caught in his chest, everything in his mind stopped completely, what he was seeing in front of him vanished, replaced by a flood of images... He saw them clearly! As if it were happening now...
That night. That night when fate brought him to this hospital. The fate that became the turning point for the position he now holds.
That day, it had rained heavily, everything was soaked! The lights of the hospital shone in the puddles that had gathered on the ground.
In his mind's eye,he saw himself, when he had stopped beside a black car, a Camry, his hands fumbling as he tried to insert his thin wire into the gap of its locked door. The fumbling of his hand wasn't out of fear or not knowing what to do, but rather from hunger, a hunger that followed every nerve in his body at that time.
From behind him, a voice stopped him before he could finish opening the car.
"Is this how you want to end your life?"
Yibo turned slowly, not to run, but to brace himself and receive the punishment he knew the speaker intended for him.
But instead of an attack or an insult, Mr. Fan of that time extended to him the umbrella in his hand. The drizzle had turned to rain, soaking him.
"Where are you from young man?"
The question he asked him then was one Yibo did not answer directly,but after a few months, he found himself in his office holding an application form for medical school. Because before the Professor heard his story, he told him that he saw no theft in him; he saw a young man who had taken a wrong, misguided path in seeking a way to live!
And from that day, he would swear that Mr. Fan never once mentioned anything that would remind him of that day, except that he himself remembered it often when he looked up at him. But he never brought up the subject of the help he gave him again. Through all his struggles with his studies, and despite doing various odd jobs to support himself and the difficulty of his studies, Mr. Fan never failed to help him time after time. He still had a collection of envelopes the man sent him, containing money with 'Don't waste it!' scrawled on them.
For ten years, he never said anything, never even indicated that he was looking at him with that in mind, until he finished his rotations, working in various hospitals as a licensed specialist surgeon, before later returning to Beijing and presenting himself at his hospital for a job....a job that the Professor gave him directly without even looking at his papers.
He just forced himself to collect his thoughts, then turned and looked at him.
Professor Shutong also bowed his head, looking at him.
"This is me collecting on that old debt,Yibo. The time has come."
The time has come!
In Yibo's head,those words seemed to have no meaning he could grasp.
NB
I hope you held onto the name of this program... 😅
Because it will be the trigger for all the emotional turbulence this story will unleash in your hearts...
Because,babe! you're not walking into a story... you're stepping into a heartbeat....
OK, tell me which one should I write next, between this one and THREADS OF SILENT (HOUSEMATES).
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛