After the New Year break, Jiang Xiaoshuai had finally put on a bit of weight. His sharp chin had rounded out, and his complexion looked fresher and more vibrant than before.
His parents lived long-term in Shanghai; he was raised by his maternal grandmother and only returned home for the holidays. Every time he did, his parents would go all out to feed him—he wasn’t allowed to leave unless he gained at least five jin (2.5kg).
“Doctor Jiang, haven’t seen you in a while! My niece came over during the New Year, asking me to introduce her to someone—I immediately thought of you. But when I asked around, they said you’d gone back to your hometown.”
Every time Auntie Zhao came to the clinic, she tried to play matchmaker for Jiang Xiaoshuai. He was used to it by now.
“No rush,” he said politely. “I’ll think about it once life settles down.”
Auntie Zhao frowned. “Not settled yet? You’re almost thirty, you’ve got a car and a house, and you’re handsome. How can you still be single? If you don’t act now, once you’re over thirty-five, it’ll be hard to find someone!”
Jiang smiled courteously. “Let’s just let things happen naturally.”
“You keep waiting like this, what’s going to fall from the sky?”
“Stop worrying about me,” Jiang said as he gently nudged her toward the injection room. He dragged out the last syllables: “What’s meant to come will always come…”
Once Auntie Zhao left, the clinic quieted down. Jiang suddenly thought of Wu Suowei. It seemed like he hadn’t seen that fool since New Year. The guy hadn’t called much either. Who knew what he was busy with.
He used the clinic landline to dial Wu’s number. As soon as it connected, he heard a businesslike tone: “Hello?”
Jiang burst into laughter. “What’re you doing?”
Wu Suowei let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, it’s you! I’ve been dealing with factory stuff—losing my mind over it.”
He gulped down water. “Running a physical business sucks. When I’m rich, I’ll just flip real estate.”
“You’re not rich enough already?” Jiang teased. “You’ve got a little gold stash—pull some out and buy a place. Shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
“That money’s off-limits. I need it.”
“For what?” Jiang asked, eyes narrowing with a grin.
Wu replied as always: “To get married!”
Jiang hadn’t even had time to roast him when a man’s figure appeared at the door. At the sight of that familiar yet distant face, Jiang felt a wave of shock, anger, awkwardness, and anxiety—all rushing up and choking him into silence.
“Xiaoshuai, why’d you stop talking?” Wu asked from the phone.
Jiang’s phone slipped from his hand and hit the desk with a dull thud.
“Weird…” Wu muttered, hanging up and calling back.
The ringtone echoed loudly through the empty clinic. The man at the door smirked upon hearing the familiar melody.
“After all these years, you still use that song as your ringtone?”
Jiang ignored the question and went straight to the point. “Why are you here?”
“I got divorced,” the man replied nonchalantly. “Gave up everything—for you.”
Jiang felt sick to his stomach and snapped. “Get the hell back to Shanghai. Stay away from me.”
The man completely disregarded him and started walking around the clinic, snooping through every corner like he was trying to glean details about Jiang’s personal life from the past two years. “Don’t you fucking touch my bookshelf!” Jiang shouted.
The man casually pulled out a book, flipped through a few pages, and teased:
“Still into health and wellness reads, huh? No wonder you’re still so fresh after all these years. I’m really curious… are you still that tight back there?”
Jiang hurled a pen holder at him. The man dodged effortlessly. The pen holder flew out the door and shattered beside a car’s front wheel.
Guo Chengyu bent down, picked up a shard, examined it, and strolled into the clinic without saying a word.
Inside, Jiang was shoving the man, face red with fury, yelling as the man clung to him with shameless persistence, even trying to hug him through the blows. He was the very picture of a professional scumbag.
Guo cleared his throat at the doorway.
The man finally loosened his grip on Jiang and gave Guo a sideways glance.
Guo’s expression was unreadable as he said with a smirk, “Doctor Jiang, when did you switch careers to become a vet? Treating animals in heat now?”
The man stepped toward Guo, his cold gaze locked on him.
Guo grinned, “Any other beasts here need to confirm their species with me?”
The man’s face darkened. He clenched his fist, bones cracking as he swung at Guo.
But the blood-red veins in Guo’s eyes deepened with a vicious glint. He caught the punch with his palm and clamped down, sending numbness up the man’s arm.
“Let me check your animal registration.”
Then, grabbing the man’s collar, he roughly tore open the zipper of his jacket, reached in, and fished out his wallet, pulling out a business card.
As expected—it matched the name Jiang had mumbled in his sleep that night.
“Meng Tao…” Guo Chengyu said the name slowly.
Meng Tao realized Guo was trained and he didn’t want a direct confrontation. But Guo was too bold, too arrogant, and to be humiliated in front of Jiang only made it worse.
“Do you have the right to speak here?” he asked coldly.
Guo Chengyu remained calm. “He’s with me, so of course I have the right.”
“With you?” Meng Tao sneered. “I’d advise you not to say that — boosting someone else’s morale while cutting yourself down. I know Jiang Xiaoshuai better than you do. If he could’ve managed a relationship these past two years, you can kick me out right now.”
No sooner had he said that than — before Guo could even react — Jiang’s palm came flying. “Get out!”
Meng Tao grabbed Jiang’s wrist, laughing wildly. “If I really leave, won’t you be heartbroken all over again?”
Guo silently watched Meng Tao’s hand gripping Jiang’s wrist, standing off to the side without a word.
Meng Tao continued to tussle with Jiang, almost as if on purpose to show Guo — bullying Jiang while deliberately dragging him closer to Guo, even stepping on Guo’s foot more than once.
Guo still didn’t move, ignoring Meng Tao’s distracting moves, his eyes fixed squarely on Meng’s wrist. Sure enough, during one scuffle, Meng lunged toward Guo, a small knife in his hand suddenly pointed straight at Guo’s abdomen.
Clang!
The knife fell to the floor. Meng glanced down, confused, when a sudden sharp pain shot through his wrist. Raising his arm, his eyes instantly filled with bloodshot rage.
Guo had picked up a shard of the broken pen holder from earlier and driven it straight into Meng’s wrist.
Then, under Meng’s stunned gaze, Guo grabbed his arm and yanked the shard out hard.
Blood sprayed across Meng’s face.
Jiang’s expression changed instantly as he rushed to the cabinet to grab a tourniquet.
Meng’s eyes reddened with panic. “You bastard! You cut an artery — this isn’t a joke!”
Guo replied coolly, “I wasn’t joking.”
He picked up his phone, dialed 120. “Hello? Please send an ambulance to XX, we’ve got a suicide here.”
Meng yelled angrily, “No need for an ambulance — I’ll drive myself to the hospital!”
He yanked at his arm, but couldn’t break free.
Guo grinned menacingly. “Trying to leave now? Too late. I’m not letting you go.”
“By the time the ambulance gets here I’ll be dead!” Meng’s face turned purple.
“Not that fast,” Guo said, tightening his grip until the blood poured faster. Still, his face wore that same relaxed smile. “Don’t worry — I’ve got the timing under control.”
When Jiang finally found the tourniquet, he froze in shock at the scene before him — Meng’s face was ghostly pale, his lips trembling, his clothes soaked with blood. And Guo was still squeezing the wound, forcing the blood out.
“Let him go already!” Jiang cried, desperately trying to pry Guo’s hand loose. “You’ll kill him like this!”
With one free arm, Guo pulled Jiang into his chest, holding him tight and saying calmly: “He’ll die exactly when I say so.”
Jiang watched in horror as Meng’s face drained of color before his eyes, blood pooling on the floor — nearly half his body’s worth. At this rate he really would die, so Jiang struggled even harder.
“He won’t die,” Guo added.
In that moment, Jiang, a doctor, was actually cowed by the unwavering look in Guo’s eyes.
And then, as luck would have it, the ambulance — which normally would’ve taken ten minutes — arrived in under five. Hearing the siren, Jiang suddenly found a burst of strength, broke free of Guo’s grip, and quickly wrapped the tourniquet around Meng’s arm.
He even moved Guo’s hand higher up Meng’s arm to create the illusion he was helping stop the bleeding — though by then Guo had already squeezed out most of the blood.
Guo’s expression changed slightly at that — even now, Jiang still thought of others…
The paramedics carried the nearly unconscious Meng onto a stretcher.
Jiang wanted to get in the ambulance too, but Guo stopped him and sent Li Wang along instead.
After the ambulance left, Jiang sat down heavily on a chair, drenched in sweat.
Guo picked the knife up off the floor, and couldn’t help thinking — If I hadn’t shown up today, who was this knife meant for?
After a long silence, a cold voice echoed through the clinic: “Either let him die… or let me protect you.”
