Dr. Jiang is Pregnant – 39

It was Shen Fangyu who accompanied them to see the elders off at the station.

In the bustling crowd, Shen helped unload the suitcases and all the gift bags, escorting them right up to the entrance for ticketed passengers.

All along the way, Mother Jiang clung to her son’s arm, as if she had endless things to say. Father Jiang watched from the side; after a while he suddenly patted Shen Fangyu on the shoulder, signaling him to step aside with him.

Jiang Xu glanced over. Mother Jiang said, “Your dad has something to say to him.” She paused, then added, “I have something to say to you, too.”

“What is it, Mom?”

Mother Jiang cast a look into the distance, then drew it back and said slowly, “Last night when your dad got up to use the bathroom, he saw Xiao Shen standing alone on the balcony. Who knows what he was thinking about.”

She sighed. “It was already one or two in the morning. We figured he must have a lot on his mind. A good man like that, going through such ups and downs, of course his heart would feel bitter. Xiao Shen is an honest sort. Since you two are living together right now, you should look after him more.”

Jiang Xu: “…”

Probably he just got too scared by the horror movie to sleep.

He thought that, but on the surface he cooperated and nodded. Then he heard Mother Jiang say, “Look at Xiao Shen, his wife is gone, his money is gone. If he didn’t even have a child, how would he go on living? Luckily he has a daughter. You always say you’re too busy with work to date, but Xiao Shen is the same age as you and he’s already married with a child.”

She patted his hand. “So you should learn from his example, find someone sooner, settle down, have a child, give yourself something to hold on to.”

Jiang Xu’s mind was full of black lines.

Learn from Shen Fangyu?

Learn what, exactly?

That so-called “child” of Shen’s was still in his own belly.

He drew a deep breath, knowing he couldn’t give anything away now. He forced himself to stay composed and gave his mother a noncommittal “Mm.”

His attitude surprised her. She’d tried to persuade him so many times and never got a good response; who would have thought that just mentioning Shen Fangyu would make him change his tune so quickly.

So it really does help to have a peer for comparison.

After the two elders left, Jiang Xu caught Shen Fangyu at his side out of the corner of his eye and asked, “What did my dad say to you?”

“On the surface, he was encouraging me, not to be knocked down by a temporary setback in life. He even asked if I needed help finding a second-marriage match. Underneath that…”

He glanced at Jiang Xu. “Your parents asked me to put a bug in your ear when I can, urge you to get married and have a child soon so they can hold a grandchild.”

“…”

That wouldn’t be ‘putting a bug in his ear’; Shen had already taken concrete action.

For no reason, Jiang Xu felt a bit stifled.

Shen Fangyu pulled a red envelope from his pocket and slipped it into Jiang Xu’s bag. “Your dad insisted on giving me this. I don’t dare accept it,” he said. “If he ever finds out everything we told them that day was made up, and that the two of us even have a child, ten orthopedic specialists’ appointment slips wouldn’t save me.”

“What were you doing out on the balcony last night?” Jiang Xu asked suddenly.

Shen’s gaze flickered; he paused for no reason, then said, “Getting some air.”

“Weren’t you cold?”

“Not bad.”

As he spoke, he suddenly turned his head and sneezed. Jiang Xu instinctively stepped aside. Shen coughed twice right after.

“Great,” he said, quickly buying a mask and putting it on, then handing one to Jiang Xu. “Don’t tell me I really caught a cold.”

Jiang Xu silently widened the distance between them, raised a brow slightly, and repeated Shen’s boast from the other day: “Absolutely won’t catch a cold?”

As the saying goes, flags are meant to be toppled. After “not catching a cold in over ten years,” Shen Fangyu fell ill like a mountain collapsing, spiking a fever straight to forty degrees Celsius, so much so that the hospital leadership, usually slow to approve leave, signed off on his sick leave immediately.

After the fever broke at the hospital, Shen was afraid of infecting Jiang Xu, so he moved back to his own place to recover. Jiang Xu didn’t really approve of him recuperating alone, but given his own special condition with the pregnancy, he didn’t dare take the risk, so he hired a caregiver for Shen.

The caregiver treated Jiang Xu like the boss, texting daily reports on Shen’s every move and even clocking in at fixed times with photos of him.

At 5:57 p.m., Jiang Xu was eating dinner in the OR lounge. He ate while checking his phone. Beside him, Wu Rui teased, “What are you looking at, Jiang Xu, texts from your girlfriend?”

The matter of Yu Xin bringing lunch to the office that day had already spread through the department thanks to chatterbox Yu Sang. He’d been assuming Jiang Xu was seeing the girl who’d delivered the meal. “So when are you and your girlfriend throwing the banquet? We’ll come join the fun.”

Jiang Xu neatly sidestepped the first question. “What girlfriend?”

“The one who brought you lunch last time,” Wu Rui said. “Isn’t she your girlfriend?”

Jiang Xu shook his head.

“I thought she was and was happy for you for nothing,” Wu Rui said, then remembered something and joked, “Shen Fangyu got mad for nothing, too.”

“Shen Fangyu?”

“Yu Sang said when he told Shen your girlfriend was here, his face changed just like that. If I didn’t know you two don’t get along, I’d suspect he likes you.”

Wu Rui kept joking: “Back when you were chasing Zhong Lan, he immediately chased Zhong Lan too. I found it pretty weird. Shen gets along with everyone in the department, but he especially likes to butt heads with you, like those little brats in grade school who only tug on the pigtails of the girl they like.”

Jiang Xu: “…”

What was going on lately? First his parents thought he and Shen Fangyu were dating; now Wu Rui drops a bomb that Shen might like him.

For a moment he didn’t know whether to roast Wu Rui for that ridiculous metaphor, or agree that he too found Shen childish.

He knew Wu Rui was just kidding and didn’t truly think that way, if he did, he probably wouldn’t say it out loud. Even so, Jiang Xu couldn’t help asking, “Do I look like I have a good relationship with him?”

“Not at all,” Wu Rui said earnestly. “No matter how you look at it, you two don’t have a good relationship.”

Reassured, Jiang Xu nodded and turned his eyes back to his phone. It was already 6:01, and the caregiver still hadn’t messaged him. He frowned slightly, usually it came at six on the dot.

He was just about to type a query when a video call popped up. His thumb slipped and he answered. Before he could react, Shen Fangyu’s face filled the screen, along with his familiar voice: “Let me show you how I’m doing.”

Wu Rui, witnessing everything: “?”

Jiang Xu hung up in a flash, glanced at Wu Rui, pointed at the phone, and said, “Wrong number. We’re not close.”

The considerate big brother, Wu Rui, nodded in cooperation and handed him a way out.
“Maybe he just needed to talk to you about something work-related,” he said.

“We’re really not close,” Jiang Xu said flatly.

“Mm,” Wu Rui replied, “not close, not close—”

But before he could even finish the word “close”, Shen Fangyu called again. Jiang Xu hung up with a blank face and, under Wu Rui’s knowing, meaningful gaze, viciously shoved a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

– Jiang Xu: Stop calling. I’m in the operating room. If you have something to say, just say it.

– Shen Fangyu: It’s nothing serious. I just wanted to ask if you’re feeling okay. I haven’t been sleeping well the past two days, I was afraid I might’ve passed something to you.

Reading that long message, Jiang Xu suddenly regretted hanging up so quickly.

With a complicated feeling, he typed back:

– Are you feeling better?

– Much better. I’ll probably be fine to come back to work in a couple days. I only called because I didn’t want you to worry and thought I’d video chat to prove it.

Jiang Xu’s fingers paused over the screen.

– I wasn’t the one who asked the caregiver to send me photos.

– I know. I told her to send them, so you could admire my heroic recovery.

Jiang Xu pressed his lips together.

– No one wants to admire you.

– You don’t, but our daughter does.

After shamelessly using their “daughter” as an excuse, Shen Fangyu started complaining again:

– The caregiver you hired is too much. I asked her how you were doing, if you caught what I had. She said you pay her salary, so she can only report my condition to you, not yours to me.

Jiang Xu saw the message, called the ever-dutiful caregiver, and told her she could just answer Shen directly next time. When he switched back to the chat, he saw another message pop up:

– I’ve got good news! My research fund got approved! I wanted to yell about it like last year, but no one’s here to hear me. /dog-cry emoji

…Had he and Shen gotten close enough for him to send something other than the default yellow smiley faces now?

Jiang Xu replied with a curt “Oh.” Then he thought it sounded too cold. After a moment of hesitation, he chose a sticker, a cartoon hand patting a skull.

摸摸头.jpg (Pat-Pat Head.jpg)

He waited a while. No response. Jiang Xu pressed his lips together. According to social etiquette, shouldn’t Shen ask if his fund got approved too?

For some reason, he felt a little displeased. His gaze lingered on Shen’s last message, reading it over twice. When he reached the word “last year,” something clicked in his memory.

Last year, they’d checked the results together in the office. As soon as Shen saw his success, he’d been bouncing around the room shouting, “I got it! I got it!”

Jiang Xu had been so irritated by the noise that he’d shot back, “What are you, a scholar from a classic novel passing the imperial exam?”

There were only two people in the department applying for that funding level, him and Shen. Wu Rui, listening nearby, glanced at Jiang Xu, who hadn’t gotten his results yet, and teased Shen with a grin:
“Aren’t you afraid Dr. Jiang will get rejected and come beat you up?”

“That’s impossible,” Shen had said confidently. “If I got it, then Jiang Xu definitely got it too.”

And just as he said that, Jiang Xu refreshed his results.

Approved.

Now, staring at the empty chat window, Jiang Xu suddenly understood why Shen hadn’t asked.
Shen simply assumed that since their abilities were evenly matched, if he got the grant, then Jiang Xu must have as well.

Jiang Xu wanted to argue, it wasn’t just about skill, luck played a part too, but truth be told, last time and this time, both of them had been approved. And the year before that, both had failed together.

He couldn’t quite say whether it was because their abilities really were that precisely balanced, or if fate just had a sense of humor.

Maybe because Shen had talked to him more than usual that day, when Jiang Xu got home after work, the place suddenly felt oddly quiet.

Even though when Shen was around they didn’t talk that much, now Jiang Xu just felt… it was too quiet. The apartment seemed emptier.

A few days ago, when Shen wasn’t there, he hadn’t really felt anything, except maybe a little lonely when he woke at night with leg cramps. But lately, since Shen had been reminding him to take calcium supplements, that had barely happened.

Maybe it was just hormones making him moody, Jiang Xu thought. He turned on the speaker, and once music filled the room, he felt a bit better, until a string of love songs played, leaving him with a strange, restless ache in his chest.

It was strange. Jiang Xu realized he kind of… missed Shen Fangyu.

The feeling was like being the last one to leave the dorm at the start of a college vacation, watching everyone else go home to different parts of the country and closing the door behind him.

Except… this felt a little stronger than that.

That realization made Jiang Xu feel both curious and indescribably unsettled.

Maybe because Dr. Jiang was thinking of him, Shen Fangyu returned to the hospital sooner than expected.
When Jiang Xu came out of the outpatient wing, he heard Shen was back. Clearly, the illness hadn’t dulled his energy one bit because laughter and chatter were already spilling out of the office before Jiang Xu even reached the door.

He recognized the male voice immediately. The female one, not so much.

He hesitated in the doorway, and just then Wu Rui appeared behind him.

“What are you standing here for?” Wu Rui said. “Go in.”

Jiang Xu: “…”

“Jiang Xu?” Shen Fangyu was chatting with someone, laughter in his eyes and brows. Hearing Wu Rui’s voice, he looked up, and happened to meet Jiang Xu’s gaze.

Jiang Xu gave him a slight nod and sat back at his desk. Seeing the woman beside Shen Fangyu, Wu Rui smiled. “And this is…?”

Not far away, as he flipped through a chart, Jiang Xu unconsciously rubbed the edge of the page.

“Older Sister Guo from Administration,” Shen Fangyu explained with a smile, there were many people in Administration. “She’s the one who issued that disciplinary ticket for me and Jiang Xu.”

Without a trace, Jiang Xu tossed the now-abused chart aside.

Upon hearing this, “Sister Guo” introduced herself to Wu Rui with a teasing tone: “Guo Xue from Administration. Dr. Wu is so law-abiding you’ve never had reason to meet me.”

“Nice to meet you,” Wu Rui shook her hand. “I’m clearly older than you, so I won’t call you ‘Sister Guo.’” He grinned. “So, Administration needs something from us?”

Guo Xue pointed to the desk calendar and notebook on the table. “I heard Dr. Yu Sang has been promoted to attending, so I’m here on behalf of Administration to bring congratulations.” Then she took out a flyer. “And there’s a new task: our hospital is putting on a Mid-Autumn Festival gala. Departments take turns, and this year it’s your department’s turn to put on a program.”

The Mid-Autumn gala is a long-standing Ji Hua tradition, held every year, supposedly to showcase the spirit of contemporary physicians, but mainly to satisfy the leadership. They say any employee who wants to can attend, but in reality the audience barely fills the front rows, mostly relatives and friends of the leaders.

Medical staff are all busy; it’s hard enough to find time to watch a gala, let alone perform in one. Only after endless coordination between Administration and the departments did they establish a rotation system, just a few departments perform each year.

The moment Guo mentioned this, Wu Rui, who had just been gossiping, instantly sat up straight at his workstation and stared intently at the computer, as if he could make flowers bloom from the medical record, an obvious “I’m very busy, don’t pick me.”

Relying on his familiarity with Guo Xue (and the assumption she wouldn’t assign him), Shen Fangyu cheerfully picked up the flyer to take a look.

Administration has talent; the flyer was beautifully made, dark blue folds with gold stamping, a night view of Ji Hua in the background, a golden full moon shining over the hospital building still ablaze with lights, shadows crisscrossing, thin clouds drifting.

Unfortunately, flirting with the blind, no one wanted to participate anyway.

Shen’s eyes fell on the big characters on the title page. “ ‘Full Moon of Mid-Autumn · Medical Inheritance’?” he read. “Didn’t we have this theme a few years ago, too?”

“This theme allows the most ‘new twists on the old,’ so we recycle it,” Guo explained. “From what I see, the program Director Cui set for you all is pretty fresh.”

“For us?” Shen, who had been enjoying the show, froze now that the melon had rolled to his own feet. “Teacher Cui wants me to perform?”

“Sure does,” Guo said, with no regard for the several tickets’ worth of ‘friendship’ between them. “I just asked Director Cui what your department will perform, she wants you and Dr. Jiang to sing the theme song from Legend of the White Snake. Xu Xian is a doctor too, isn’t he? How novel. And I have to say, Director Cui may be older, but her thinking is trendy. I couldn’t have come up with something so fun.”

Shen’s face went ashen; Guo’s praise for Director Cui went in one ear and out the other. “What kind of teacher pits her students like this?” he said in despair. “Is this reasonable?”

“It’s not,” Jiang Xu said, standing up at once. “I’ll go talk to Teacher Cui.”

The OB/GYN department’s two “twin blades” appeared together once more in Director Cui’s office. She lazily flipped through a newspaper. “Oh, young people should show themselves more. What are such handsome lads doing hiding in the department all day?”

“Teacher Cui, I really can’t,” Jiang Xu said. “I have surgeries to do.”

“The gala doesn’t start until eight in the evening, and it’s on a Sunday. Just schedule one less case that day and have Old Xue do it, I’ll call him.”

“Old Xue” was another associate chief physician in the department, a kind man, but twenty to thirty years older than Jiang Xu and the others, so not particularly close.

“That’d be embarrassing,” Shen, well aware that he and Jiang Xu were grasshoppers tied to the same rope at the moment, hurried to help. “Brother Xue’s been busy with his kid’s study-abroad matters lately.”

“It’s already settled; he’s free now.” Director Cui’s round face hardly showed her age; when she smiled, she looked very amiable. “Between performing and doing a surgery, Old Xue would certainly rather do the surgery.”

Jiang Xu was speechless for a long moment, then shot Shen a look, signaling him to think of something—fast.

Seeing his comrade fall, Shen switched to another excuse. “Teacher Cui, we still have to get back for rounds.”

“Have a student keep an eye on the time. When it’s time, go perform, sing the song, and come right back for rounds. It’s only a ten-odd-minute round trip. It won’t delay you.” Director Cui gave him no chance to continue, even laying out time-saving strategies.

“Teacher Cui, you know Jiang Xu and I don’t get along,” Shen played his final card. “We can’t work together; we have no chemistry.”

“Didn’t you two operate together on Zhang Yun’s case?” Director Cui said. “Does singing a duet require more tacit understanding than standing side-by-side in surgery?”

Having been a vice-dean for many years, Director Cui clearly understood the art of leadership conversation, rejecting the two doctors’ excuses with a thermos cup in hand, unhurried and imperturbable.

“All right, it’s settled. I’ll come watch on the day of the gala.” Hammer dropped, she sweetened the pill with a date, painting them a big pie: “Around the New Year I’m going abroad for an international conference. If you two perform well, I’ll put in a request with the dean to take you both along.”

She turned to Shen Fangyu. “If you don’t perform well, there’ll be no chance.” Then she glanced at Jiang Xu and continued, to Shen: “And if Jiang Xu doesn’t perform well, I’ll punish you by not letting you go either.”

Shen Fangyu: “?”

“What does Jiang Xu’s performance have to do with me?” Shen couldn’t help protesting. “Him cooperating with me would be a miracle.”

Of course Director Cui knew Jiang Xu was far harder to talk around than Shen; otherwise she wouldn’t have handed this daunting task to Shen.

It was rare for the department to put on a program, and she’d heard the dean’s daughter had returned to the country this year and was looking forward to the gala.

She’d met the girl when she was young, good temperament, pretty. Director Cui had always thought highly of these two young, hardworking students of hers. On the surface she was sending them to perform; in truth there was a hint of “promoting her own students.”

Middle-aged people often like to see young folks pairing off and having children; Director Cui was no exception.

She’d seen the hard work of Jiang Xu and Shen Fangyu over the years. While she thought it was good for young people to be driven, she worried they were pouring too much into their careers and delaying their life’s big matters.

These two had strong abilities and good looks; matched with the dean’s daughter, they’d be a handsome pair, golden boy and jade girl. If the young people really hit it off, their careers might flourish even more.

But a respected vice-dean couldn’t very well reveal her matchmaking impulse. Besides, she knew young people nowadays like to talk about love; pushy blind dates backfire. Giving them a chance to perform and be seen was the best approach.

She also hoped the matter would ease tensions between the two. After all, they were in the same department; a little rivalry in youth is fine, but constant antagonism isn’t good for their development and if it hardened into lifelong enmity, it would hurt team cohesion.

She wasn’t worried about Shen Fangyu; at most he’d grumble. But if she truly arranged for him to perform, he wouldn’t insist on refusing, he’d give his teacher and leaders face.

Jiang Xu, however, was much more stubborn. If he didn’t want to do something, he simply wouldn’t, never mind a vice-dean and teacher; even if the dean of Ji Hua himself came, he might not give face.

She knew these two students’ temperaments all too well: Shen Fangyu was water, seeping everywhere and fitting any shape; Jiang Xu was a rock, unyielding and immovable. All she could do was hope Shen’s water would wear down the stone.

She wouldn’t spell any of this out to them. With a kind smile, Director Cui finished her instructions, gave a light wave, and said, “I’m off to a meeting at the hospital. I’ll wait for your good news.”

The two of them were left standing there, stunned.

After a long while, Shen Fangyu said slowly, “Jiang Xu…”

“You’re close with Guo Xue?” Jiang Xu suddenly cut him off.

“Huh?” Shen blinked, thrown by Jiang Xu’s 180-degree turn. “Yeah.” Thinking Jiang Xu might need a favor, he added, “If you need something from her, just tell me. I’ll talk to her, she’ll definitely help.”

Jiang Xu gave him a look.

“As for the performance…”

“Not going.”

Jiang Xu cut him off with a blank face, showed him no courtesy whatsoever, and swept out.

“Hey, Jiang Xu!”

Shen called after his retreating back.

Jiang Xu walked fast and ignored him completely.

Staring after him, head full of question marks, Shen muttered, “If you’re not going, you’re not going, what are you mad about?”