He come for work... But destiny arrives bare-chested.
Zhan
:-*:-*:-*:-
Zhan's eyes widened from the moment the car turned toward the massive building in front of him, the name of the Hospital gleaming boldly at the entrance. When the Driver stopped the car, he blinked hard and opened his eyes again, still staring in disbelief.
The Driver looked at him, then at the building, and chuckled.
"Surprised by the place, huh?"
Zhan turned to him slowly.
"Surprised isn't even the word. I never imagined it would look like this. All of this is a hospital?"
"Of course it is. This place has been like this for more than twenty years. I'm actually shocked you don't know it...but then again, you barely leave home."
Zhan didn't respond. He simply turned back and stared again. His whole body felt unusually heavy today, the weight sitting deep in his chest. He had been awake since three in the morning, unable to sleep, finishing every task that usually filled the hours before dawn. After showering, he got dressed, though even then Nainai scolded him for being too slow...she practically forced him to finish getting ready.
Last night, Nainai had called the Driver and instructed him to pick Zhan up early since transportation might be difficult that morning. When she mentioned the name of the hospital, he immediately recognized it, even describing the place and saying he once brought Nainai here for a foot treatment. After that, he expressed surprise that Zhan had gotten a job there, congratulating him over and over.
That was the first time Zhan had felt anxious....hearing the excitement and praise about a job he knew nothing about. And now, facing the actual size of the place, all the nerves he had ignored doubled.
His eyes traveled up the tall building again, trying to take it all in. If someone asked him to describe it, he would say it looked more like the kind of bank building he had only ever seen in pictures...huge, polished, intimidating.
Heat gathered in his palms and feet at the same time. His stomach clenched tight, and a sharp urge to run....or even cry....washed over him. He swallowed hard and grabbed his bag from the seat.
"Thank you Baba driver . I'll get down now."
"What time should I come back for you? If I have another route nearby later, I'll pick you up."
Zhan shook his head.
"I have no idea how the job works yet. Please just go....whenever I finish, I'll find my way home."
His voice trembled slightly. To him, it felt like he was marching toward a battlefield, alone.
"All right then. Good luck, Nainai's golden boy," the Driver said with a playful laugh....his usual nickname for Zhan.
Normally, that name made Zhan smile. Today, he barely heard it. He stepped out, shut the door, and watched as the car drove away, leaving behind rows of parked cars that made the hospital grounds look more like a city center than a morning shift.
He checked his phone: 6:57 AM.
Three minutes to seven.
He turned the phone off, slipped it into his bag, adjusted the strap over his shoulder. His long shirt, sea-green and soft, hung loosely over dark blue pants—he hated tight clothes that clung to his skin. He wrapped his matching sea-green scarf, decorated with tiny stones, around his shoulders. Bai, his younger brother often told him the color suited the brightness of his skin, and even today he had said:
"You look too handsome for your own good, Gege. People should fear you, not the other way around."
Zhan had rolled his eyes at that before leaving.
He took a deep breath, steadied his scarf, and whispered every calming thought that came to mind to push himself forward.
He followed the flow of people heading inside, turning a corner until a wide glass entrance appeared. He walked behind two others and slipped through the large doors.
Inside was a long, wide hall lined with several doors on each side. Everyone seemed purposeful... hospital staff in uniform walking briskly, others entering and exiting rooms, some pacing straight down the main corridor.
Zhan stepped further into the long corridor, moving toward the center where the hallway opened into a wide, circular area....almost like a roundabout....decorated with lights and surrounded by rows of seats meant for waiting visitors.
On the left, he noticed an enclosed reception area bordered by a low white tiled barrier. Inside were two computer desks, each with large Apple screens, printers, and scanners neatly arranged.
He walked toward them, stopping in front of the male receptionist. The man lifted his head, looked at him, and offered a friendly smile—warm enough to steady Zhan's nerves a little.
"Good morning. Please, I'm looking for the SRRI coordinator's office."
To his surprise, the man nodded casually, as if the request was completely familiar.
"Okay. Let me see your appointment letter."
Zhan quickly opened his bag and pulled the document out, suddenly aware that many others must have asked the same question before him. The receptionist...his tag read Saleem...took the paper, typed something on his computer, eyes shifting between the screen and the letter.
After a moment, he looked up again. "One minute."
Relief loosened the tight tension in Zhan's chest. He allowed himself a breath, his eyes wandering around the reception area, absorbing details he previously missed.
Just then, a young woman in a nurse's uniform walked up beside Saleem, holding a stack of documents which she dropped lightly on the counter. The female receptionist picked them up while the nurse turned to Saleem.
"Saleem, how's the work going?"
"Did Dr. Hanny update folder for Room 39?" he replied without looking up.
"Yes, she did. I sent you the link. She added new instructions on the patient's fluid balance chart."
"Great," he said. "Pharmacy sent a message...there's a delay with her antibiotics. They'll have them in the evening."
"That's fine, we're starting them tomorrow anyway. Let me go adjust the chart."
She began to leave, but Saleem quickly stopped her.
"Please, before you go—this is the SRRI team. Could you show him the CMO's office?"
"Sure. Follow me," she said to Zhan, offering a small smile.
"And take these. You'll need all of them," Saleem added, handing him the appointment letter along with printed documents.
Zhan thanked him and followed the nurse down the hall. They turned left, continuing through the corridor until they passed large glass windows. A cold breeze rushed in through a small opening, brushing across Zhan's face and dragging away whatever confidence he had managed to gather.
They stopped in front of a door labeled Chief Medical Officer (CMO).
"That's the office. Knock before you enter," she said kindly before walking away.
Zhan nodded, adjusted his bag strap, closed his eyes briefly, exhaled deeply, then knocked and stepped inside.
The CMO....a tall fair-skinned man wearing glasses—looked exactly like someone meant to lead a hospital. His presence was calm, authoritative, yet oddly reassuring. Zhan handed him the documents and explained everything briefly.
"How long have you been working in this field?" the CMO asked, studying him.
"Almost a year," Zhan replied quietly, hoping the honesty wouldn't make him sound inexperienced.
The CMO nodded thoughtfully.
"Well, the job itself isn't complicated. It would have been better if you attended the training program earlier like the others, but since you already have some experience and you won't be doing any major procedures, I don't think you'll face many problems. We only have six patients so far."
He leaned back slightly.
"I'll put you with the team who will provide all the materials you need. And we'll also have someone explain how things work before you meet Dr. Yibo, since you're not familiar with everything yet."
Zhan nodded slowly to everything the CMO said, listening carefully. Then the CMO picked up his phone and dialed a number, putting it on speaker.
"Let me call him and see if he can meet you today. Your official start date is tomorrow—today is just for scheduling."
He was speaking, but Zhan barely processed the words. All he heard was the ringing tone echoing through the room, each beep heavy in his chest.
"Hello…"
A deep, smooth voice filled the room....so sharp and steady that it sent a slight tremor down Zhan's spine.
"Hello, Yibo, are you inside the hospital?"
"Yes, I'm in the office, but I have a surgery at 8."
"Your secretary is here....can you see him today?"
"Secretary?" Dr. Yibo repeated quietly.
"For what?" He added.
Zhan's heart gave a sharp jump, then dropped painfully back into it place.
"For SRRI, Yibo. We sent you everything. Didn't you check your emails?"
There was a long stretch of silence before Dr. Yibo finally replied.
"I'm checking now. I'm seeing the name… Xiao Die Zhan?"
Zhan heard it clearly...but it feels that wasn't his official name, and for some reason it sound different in that deep cold sweet voice.
"That's him. Can you see him today?" the CMO asked again.
A pause. Then Dr. Yibo's voice returned, cold and precise:
"First remind me again....why do I need someone to manage what I already know how to control?"
The silence that followed was heavy. Annoyance flickered across the CMO's face before he responded firmly.
"Go and read your emails, Yibo. He'll meet you first thing tomorrow morning before you start with patients."
He ended the call without looking at Zhan again, pulled out a sheet of paper, scribbled directions, and handed it over...instructions to collect supplies and meet the next supervisor.
Zhan swallowed hard, trying to convince himself those words meant nothing.
Trying....and failing.
----
"Why didn't you attend the training?"
Matron Tanga asked, reading his name from the board in front of her desk. Zhan had been waiting nearly two hours after the CMO directed him to her for further briefing and materials.
He had met two others also posted to the program....a man and a woman. Their roles were very different, more basic tasks like cleaning and support work. The woman had casually told him most of the staff were chosen from within the hospital: only a few, like him, were brought from outside, and her cousin who worked here arranged her placement.
Zhan had only listened quietly, twisting his fingers anxiously. They waited for two hours because the Matron had gone to assist in surgery. Zhan assumed she was assisting Dr. Yibo, since he had mentioned surgery earlier.
He wasn't sure how many times he had gone to the water dispenser to drink, hoping it might calm the pounding in his chest....especially whenever that cold voice replayed in his mind.
Even Nainai had called him more times than he could count, asking if everything was all right, what stage he was at, what they told him. Eventually Zhan told her he would explain when he returned home.
"Why didn't you attend the training, Zhan?" Matron Tanga repeated.
He straightened slightly and met her eyes.
"The training was done before being offered the job."
He spoke honestly; he didn't even know how to lie at that moment. To his surprise, she smiled.
"I could tell from your appointment letter that you came from higher. I'll be honest....you'll need to work very hard. Dr. Yibo is demanding. Whenever you need guidance, come here and I'll help you."
She paused, then added:
"I'll also pair you with Aji. I'm sure he'll give you every support you need."
Zhan nodded slowly in response, not bothered by her initial tone. He understood there was no need to be upset....he knew perfectly well he had been appointed from higher-rank, and clearly Dr. Yibo would not be easy to deal with. Even from the few seconds of that phone call, Zhan already understood enough without anyone repeating it.
So the only thing he resolved inwardly was that he would rely on determination and hard work.... because that was all he had.
Matron Tanga picked up a file and opened it while speaking.
"Five of you were posted here from outside the hospital. The other four came earlier, before I went into surgery, and I already gave them their supplies. Tomorrow morning we'll have a full meeting to brief everyone about the program. For now I'll just give you your materials, and tomorrow we'll handle the briefing before work begins."
Zhan nodded in agreement.
Matron Tanga stood and opened a drawer behind her chair, pulling out a pile of items that Zhan couldn't fully identify...large notebooks, boxes of pens, and other equipment...and then a brand-new tablet in its packaging that immediately caught his eye.
"Here is your uniform. Check the fitting today so we can adjust it if needed...we don't allow any other style, and since you start tomorrow, you must be in uniform."
"Okay, Ma," he replied, taking the neatly packed uniform.
"There's a changing room....go straight down the hall and turn left, third door."
Zhan gave a small nod and smile, stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder, and stepped out carrying the items. His mind was crowded with thoughts....none clear enough to settle on. He was so lost in them that he missed the direction Tanga gave him.
When he reached the end of the hall, instead of turning left as instructed, he turned right. He stopped in front of the third door and, seeing no label on it at all, never considered that it might be the wrong place.
He knocked twice, then opened the door and stepped inside, assuming it would be empty anyway.
There was a lock on the inside of the door; he turned it instinctively, shutting the door securely, thinking someone might accidentally push it open.
But the moment he turned around, he froze.
This was definitely not a changing room. It was an office...spacious, private, and meticulously arranged. Even with the blinds half-closed across the tall windows, the space looked elegant and spotless, clearly belonging to someone important.
A soft, expensive fragrance filled the air, and as it reached him, the hairs along Zhan's arms rose sharply.
Then...without warning...the door of the inner bathroom opened.
Dr. Yibo stepped out, wearing only the long scrub trousers of his surgical uniform. No shirt. No coat.
His gaze met Zhan's instantly.
And Zhan's eyes, before he could stop them, dropped to take in the sight of Dr. Yibo....bare-chested, sharp lines of muscle visible beneath damp skin, his hair slightly wet, as though he had just washed his face.
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛