Even after the examination was finished and they had confirmed that the baby’s right hand was fine, Shen Fangyu still looked incredulous. “You really agreed?” He pulled out his phone to make a recording. “No, I still have to record it. What if you go back on your word?”
Jiang Xu was expressionless. “I don’t want to leave this kind of prenatal influence on the child.”
A couple of days earlier, he had even had a nightmare. In it, other people’s babies were born crying loudly, but his baby, the moment she was born, opened her mouth and started singing at the top of her lungs, of course, it was that all-too-familiar theme song from The Legend of the White Snake. Four resounding, thunderous “ah~~~” nearly sent Jiang Xu to the afterlife. It had scared him so badly that he didn’t sleep well that night.
He told Shen Fangyu, “As long as you stop playing that stupid speaker of yours, I promise I’ll take part in the performance.”
Having secured his promise, Shen Fangyu immediately sent a message to Director Cui. Director Cui was probably watching his phone while babysitting his grandchild, because he replied with a cheerful voice message, and you could even hear a baby crying in the background.
“What if our child turns out to cry that much too?” Shen Fangyu worried sincerely.
“Crying is fine,” Jiang Xu said coolly. “Just don’t let her love singing.”
“Then let’s divide up the lyrics,” Shen Fangyu said, scrolling through them. “I listened to the original song. Part of it is sung by Xiaoqing, part by the boatman. Which one do you want?”
“The one with fewer lines.”
“Then Xiaoqing.” Shen Fangyu handed him the phone. “Four lines in total. At your memorization speed, you’ll have it down in ten seconds.”
Jiang Xu nodded, scanned the lyrics rapidly, then returned the phone. “When’s the performance?”
“Tomorrow.”
Jiang Xu: “?”
“Aren’t you afraid that I might not have agreed by the last day?” he asked, looking at Shen Fangyu, who seemed perfectly calm and confident.
Shen Fangyu answered leisurely, “I had no choice. I made a military pledge to Director Cui. A determined suitor can wear down even the most steadfast lady. I knew you’d agree.”
Jiang Xu nearly choked at the phrase “steadfast lady.” After a moment, he caught the phrase “military pledge.” “You’re doing this for the overseas exchange opportunity?” he asked.
He honestly couldn’t quite understand why Shen Fangyu was working so hard on this. The opportunity for overseas academic exchange was certainly valuable, but even if they had refused Professor Cui’s arrangement, for the sake of the department’s development, Professor Cui would most likely have taken them in the end anyway.
This wasn’t Jiang Xu being arrogant. He knew that he and Shen Fangyu were now among the top-tier elite in their department, and he also understood that Professor Cui wasn’t the type to hold grudges or make things difficult for her subordinates.
Moreover, the fact that Professor Cui had brought up the matter in front of them that day already meant she intended to take them along. Given her personality, if she hadn’t planned to give them the overseas slots, she wouldn’t have mentioned them at all just to persuade them to participate in a performance.
Shen Fangyu had always been perceptive in interpersonal matters. There was no way he wouldn’t understand what Jiang Xu could see.
“Not for that,” Shen Fangyu said. “I asked Director Cui for something else too.”
Jiang Xu looked up at him.
“Professor Cui promised that if I could persuade you to perform with me, then during the overseas exchange, she’d give us three days off for free time,” he said. “I want to visit Dr. Kenn and discuss some surgical details.”
Jiang Xu’s gaze paused.
Ever since they had decided to wait for Dr. Kenn’s journal article to be published and then have Shen Fangyu perform the cesarean section, Jiang Xu himself hadn’t paid much attention to the matter. First, there was still plenty of time; worrying in advance wouldn’t help. Second, this renowned expert from Country M hadn’t exactly been friendly. Before the article was published, Jiang Xu had no desire to deal with him again.
He hadn’t expected Shen Fangyu to be thinking this far ahead for him.
“It’s also about being responsible for you,” Shen Fangyu said lightly, as if it were nothing serious. But as Jiang Xu looked at him, something stirred in his chest.
He knew that choosing to perform this surgery on him put pressure on Shen Fangyu. The risks were high. If the surgery succeeded, it would be a win-win, bringing both acclaim and achievement. But if it failed, Shen Fangyu might very well lose the reputation he had built over so many years.
Besides, if he and the baby died, though Shen Fangyu probably wouldn’t be devastated beyond measure, they were still old classmates. As the primary surgeon, in the quiet of the night when memories surfaced, Jiang Xu figured Shen Fangyu would at least feel something.
At that thought, Jiang Xu suddenly suggested, “Let’s take a photo together.”
“A photo?”
Jiang Xu gave a small “mm,” then rummaged through the storage cabinet and pulled out a DSLR camera and a tripod, deftly attaching the lens.
“You know how to use that?” Shen Fangyu asked, surprised.
“I know a lot of things,” Jiang Xu replied while adjusting the camera settings.
Before college, he had been well-rounded, proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. He had even won awards in photography competitions. That was why, the year he topped the science-track college entrance exam, his parents had splurged on a DSLR for him.
They had thought that once he entered university, he’d be able to relax a little and develop his hobbies. Instead, his college years were more grueling than repeating a year for the exam. He barely had a chance to use the camera.
Once he was done adjusting the settings, Jiang Xu carried the tripod into the study. Next to the study was a bay window with gray-and-white cushions on the marble ledge. White gauze curtains softened the view outside; when the drapes were drawn, it looked like an elegant ink-wash painting.
“Go sit over there,” he told Shen Fangyu. “Hold that throw pillow.”
After Shen Fangyu sat down, Jiang Xu guided him to adjust his posture and position, switched between several lighting options in the study, and chose his favorite one.
“So professional?” Shen Fangyu teased with a smile as Jiang Xu busied himself. “Looks like our family’s about to produce a great photographer.”
“Who’s ‘our family’?” Jiang Xu retorted. As he made these adjustments, he gradually rediscovered some of his old instincts. Back in middle school, he had loved photography. Even without good equipment, he had taken photos everywhere, teaching himself composition. Yet after finally getting proper equipment, he had set it aside for years.
Shaking off the flicker of nostalgia, he secured the camera onto the tripod, adjusted the height, set the timer, then went to sit beside Shen Fangyu. He picked up another pillow, casually draped an arm over Shen Fangyu’s shoulder, and leaned his head against him.
The tips of his hair accidentally brushed Shen Fangyu’s cheek. The latter froze for a moment, his breathing hitching slightly before he lowered his eyes discreetly to look at Jiang Xu.
Perhaps because he had photographed so many people, Jiang Xu wasn’t as aloof in front of the lens. For the sake of better framing and visual harmony, he would even take the initiative to pose in interactive ways like this.
When the shutter clicked, Shen Fangyu suddenly realized he had been lost in thought. But by then, it was too late to look at the camera.
Jiang Xu withdrew from his shoulder and went to check the results. Holding the camera in both hands, he flipped to the photo they had just taken.
Under the soft lighting, he leaned slightly against Shen Fangyu, looking relaxed. They both wore simple T-shirts and lounge pants, each holding matching pillows in different colors. They looked like close brothers. If one ignored their age, they might even pass for two spirited university students.
The figures in the foreground, paired with the black and white landscape backdrop, formed a pleasing composition. Jiang Xu nodded in satisfaction, then suddenly noticed that Shen Fangyu hadn’t been looking at the camera.
He zoomed in. Clearly, Shen Fangyu’s gaze was resting on the top of his head. Whether it was his imagination or not, Jiang Xu felt there was a subtle gentleness in that look.
“Why are you staring at it for so long?” a voice suddenly asked near his ear.
Shen Fangyu had come up behind him. As he spoke, warm breath brushed against Jiang Xu’s neck. For some reason, Jiang Xu felt a sudden pang of guilt. He quickly lowered the camera and replied offhandedly, “Nothing.”
At this moment, Shen Fangyu felt even more guilty, afraid Jiang Xu would mock him for zoning out during the photo. He gave an “oh” and hurried away from the scene.
Only after he had walked some distance did Jiang Xu reopen the photo and look at it several more times.
This time, perhaps because he was subconsciously trying to deny the fleeting thought that had crossed his mind earlier, Shen Fangyu’s gaze didn’t seem quite as lingering.
He let out a quiet breath of relief, transferred the photo to his phone, made slight adjustments with editing software, and sent a copy to Shen Fangyu.
Shen Fangyu, meanwhile, came back from the kitchen carrying a cup of honey milk at just the right temperature. He handed it to Jiang Xu. After Jiang Xu took the cup, Shen Fangyu checked his phone at the notification sound.
“You sent me something?” he asked in surprise, opening it to find the photo they had just taken.
“Jiang Xu, this is incredible,” Shen Fangyu exclaimed as he looked at the photo. “The atmosphere in this shot is amazing.”
When Jiang Xu had first suggested taking a photo, Shen Fangyu had assumed it would be something simple, like the two of them flashing a “V” sign at the camera. He hadn’t expected Jiang Xu to treat it so seriously. It really did seem like he knew a thing or two about photography.
At the time, Shen Fangyu hadn’t had high expectations. After all, in all these years, he had never seen Jiang Xu take photos of anything. But the moment he saw the picture, he was genuinely stunned.
Even if one didn’t understand photography, everyone had the ability to appreciate beauty.
In the photo, the two men sat side by side on the bay window. The soft lighting highlighted their features, revealing a natural sense of comfort and ease. It wasn’t staged, nor was it awkward. There was just the right touch of lazy intimacy, like two neighborhood friends who had just finished playing basketball together, accidentally captured during a quiet moment of closeness.
Even Shen Fangyu’s gaze, which should have been directed at the camera but had ultimately fallen on Jiang Xu, looked harmonious, adding a subtle sense of story to the image.
Shen Fangyu looked at the photo over and over, then set it as the chat background for his conversation with Jiang Xu. When he finally looked up, he realized Jiang Xu had been watching him.
“What’s wrong?” Shen Fangyu asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“The photo is for you,” Jiang Xu said after a pause. “If I die… if you don’t want to remember me, that’s fine. But if you do, keep it as a memento.”
Older generations were superstitious about speaking of life and death too lightly. But most young people weren’t, especially young doctors. The word “death” came easily to them.
Yet today, Jiang Xu felt that saying it was unexpectedly difficult.
Was he afraid of dying?
A little.
Aside from Kenn’s single successful case, previous patients in similar situations hadn’t ended well. The surgeons who operated on them might not necessarily have been less skilled than Kenn. Every body was different. The same doctor performing the same surgery on different patients could see one live and another die.
Doctors could only do their best. The rest was left to fate.
The situation had already come to this. Jiang Xu had no choice but to face it.
He didn’t want the mood to grow too heavy because of him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to sound more relaxed. “Don’t worry. The surgery carries such high risks. If something really happens to me, I won’t blame—”
“Jiang Xu.”
Shen Fangyu suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace, startling him so much that he didn’t even finish his sentence.
“What are you doing?” Jiang Xu had grown up in a very straight-laced environment. People might roughhouse or joke around, but they rarely hugged like this. He found Shen Fangyu’s clingy behavior somewhat irritating.
He tried to pull away, but Shen Fangyu seemed determined to hold on and refused to let go.
In the end, Jiang Xu gave up struggling and let him hug him. After a moment, Shen Fangyu suddenly said in his ear, “If you die, I’ll quit clinical practice.”
“Is that really necessary, Shen Fangyu?” Jiang Xu said. “That fragile, are you?”
Anyone who entered the medical field had almost certainly seen patients pass away, especially in surgical departments like general surgery or obstetrics, where countless deaths were witnessed right on the operating table.
Shen Fangyu didn’t answer immediately. He was silent for a long while before finally letting go.
Jiang Xu thought he wouldn’t continue the topic. But as Shen Fangyu picked up the empty glass of honey milk and walked out of the study, he suddenly turned back and, almost petulantly, said, “It is necessary. I am fragile.”
Jiang Xu couldn’t help saying, “Are you three years old?”
Shen Fangyu ignored that. “Stop thinking about this. Go memorize your lyrics properly. Don’t mess up tomorrow.” With that, he left the study without looking back.
Jiang Xu glanced at his retreating figure with a trace of helplessness, then put away the tripod and camera, opening the storage cabinet to return them.
Just before closing the cabinet, his hand paused. After a moment of thought, he took the camera back out and placed it on the small table beside the sofa.
If he had time in the future, he should take more photos.