32. Xiuling’s Villa
The night grew deeper, and the villa community on the outskirts of Shanghai gradually became quiet.
Several dim garden lights illuminated the courtyard outside the window, while the shadows of the trees swayed gently in the night breeze. Only a few warm yellow lights were turned on in the living room. A pot of freshly brewed tea sat beside the coffee table, and its faint fragrance filled the air.
Lin Xiuling sat on the sofa, holding her teacup with both hands and occasionally looking toward the hallway.
She knew perfectly well that Wen-Hua had only gone to change his clothes, yet she inexplicably felt a sense of anticipation.
It was as if she were waiting for a scene she had imagined many years ago.
Finally, the bedroom door opened.
Yang Wen-Hua walked out of the room wearing the sky-blue shirt they had just bought, paired with dark trousers. He was also carrying a paper box in his hand.
Lin Xiuling's eyes fell on him, and for a moment, she forgot to drink her tea.
She put down her teacup and slowly stood up.
“This is the look.”
She walked over to Wen-Hua and looked him up and down, her eyes shining with appreciation.
“Handsome, sharp, and distinguished. Now you finally look like a doctor attending an international medical conference!”
Wen-Hua looked down at himself, then at Xiuling.
“Is it really that dramatic?”
“Of course it is.”
Xiuling reached out and straightened his shirt collar.
The gesture was completely natural, but when her fingers touched his collar, they both paused at the same time.
Xiuling's heart suddenly skipped a beat.
She quickly withdrew her hand and smiled as if nothing had happened.
“Hmm. Much better.”
Wen-Hua looked at her without saying anything.
He suddenly remembered how, back in the tea plantation in Dabang Village, she had also straightened his clothes like this.
Back then, she had been his junior.
Now, she was the owner of a medical aesthetics clinic in Shanghai.
Two years had changed many things.
Including her.
And himself as well.
Wen-Hua quickly pulled his thoughts back and raised the paper box in his hand.
“Oh, right, Xiuling. My sisters also have gifts for you.”
Xiuling's eyes immediately lit up.
“Really?”
She reached out to take the paper box, unable to hide her excitement.
“I miss Sister Wen-Ying and Wen-Qing so much!”
“Don't get too excited yet.”
Wen-Hua smiled and placed the paper box on the coffee table.
He opened the lid and first took out a beautifully packaged box of tea.
“This is from my sister Wen-Ying.”
Xiuling took the tea and carefully examined the packaging, the corners of her mouth unconsciously turning upward.
“Sister Wen-Ying knows that I love tea.”
Wen-Hua then took a neatly wrapped garment bag out of the paper box.
“And this.”
He handed the garment bag to Xiuling.
“My sister Wen-Qing made this traditional outfit herself.”
Xiuling froze for a moment.
“Wen-Qing made it?”
She carefully opened the garment bag.
A beautifully crafted Tsou traditional outfit came into view.
Xiuling gently ran her hand over the fabric, feeling the delicate patterns beneath her fingertips. Her eyes were filled with delight.
“She really made it herself?”
“Mm.”
Wen-Hua nodded.
“She said that when she first met you, she felt certain that you would like it.”
Xiuling looked up.
“She still remembers me?”
“Not only does she remember you.”
Wen-Hua smiled.
“She also said that if you ever came to Dabang Village someday, she would definitely make an outfit for you herself.”
Xiuling lowered her head and looked at the clothes in her hands.
A warm feeling suddenly welled up inside her.
She had not actually spent much time with the Yang family, but that trip to Dabang Village had become a memory she treasured in her heart.
Especially Wen-Hua's family.
Their warm, natural friendliness, without any sense of distance, was something rarely found in the urban life of Shanghai.
“Wen-Hua...”
She looked up at him.
“Please thank Wen-Qing and Wen-Ying for me.”
“You should tell them yourself.”
“Mm.”
Xiuling nodded gently.
Wen-Hua pointed at the clothes.
“Try them on. If they don't fit, I'll have Wen-Qing alter them when I get back.”
Xiuling held the clothes up against herself and stood in front of the mirror to take a look.
“They should fit.”
She turned around once.
“Wen-Qing and I are about the same size.”
“She said the same thing.”
“Really?”
“Mm.”
Wen-Hua smiled.
“She said you would look great in them.”
Hearing those words, Xiuling felt as if something had gently touched her heart.
She raised her eyes and glanced at Wen-Hua.
“Then I'll try them on for you.”
With that, she hugged the clothes and turned to walk into the bedroom.
A short while later, the bedroom door opened again.
Lin Xiuling stood in front of the mirror wearing the Tsou traditional outfit. She made a final adjustment to the hem of the garment, then took a deep breath.
A thought suddenly crossed her mind.
If Wen-Hua saw her like this, would he like it?
The thought made her feel a little shy.
But the next second, she told herself:
I'm only showing him the clothes his sister gave me.
She raised her head, a playful smile appearing at the corners of her mouth.
Then she deliberately walked out of the room with the steps of a model on a runway.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
She stopped in front of Wen-Hua and deliberately spun around.
“Senior Wen-Hua, what do you think?”
Wen-Hua looked at her and, for a moment, could not answer.
The Xiuling before him had lost the crisp professionalism of her usual doctor's white coat and gained a simple, gentle beauty.
The traditional outfit unexpectedly suited her figure and bearing perfectly.
“Beautiful.”
Only three words, yet they made Xiuling's heart tremble slightly.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Wen-Hua nodded.
“It suits you very well.”
Xiuling smiled.
Just then, footsteps came from the direction of the kitchen.
Zhou Hong, wearing an apron, walked out of the kitchen, ready to call the two of them to dinner.
“Boss, dinner is ready—”
She stopped halfway through her sentence.
Her eyes fell on Xiuling.
“Wow!”
Zhou Hong could not help widening her eyes.
“That outfit is beautiful!”
Xiuling immediately smiled and spun around once.
“Isn't it?”
Like a child who had just received a new toy, she tugged at the hem of the garment.
“My senior's younger sister, Wen-Qing, made it especially for me.”
“No wonder.”
Zhou Hong stepped closer and carefully examined the outfit.
“The fabric, the design—they're all very distinctive, and it fits you perfectly.”
“Exactly!”
Xiuling could not hide her smile at all.
She looked down at the clothes, then up at Wen-Hua.
“Your sister is really amazing.”
Wen-Hua smiled.
“If she knew how much you liked it, she'd be very happy.”
Xiuling gently touched the hem of the garment.
At that moment, she suddenly had the illusion that she was not visiting this home for the first time.
It was as if the Yang family had already accepted her.
The feeling was both sweet and filled with a fluttering emotion she hardly dared to touch.
She knew very clearly that what she cherished so much about this gift was perhaps not merely the clothes.
It was the person who had made the clothes.
And even more, the man behind the person who had made them—the man she had always wanted to draw closer to, yet had never dared to truly reach out and hold on to.
“We've been talking so long that dinner is going to get cold.”
Xiuling suddenly came back to herself.
“I'll change out of these clothes first.”
Holding up the hem of her outfit, she happily turned and walked toward the bedroom.
After taking a few steps, she turned back.
“Wen-Hua.”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
Wen-Hua froze slightly, then smiled.
“We're family. No need to be so polite.”
Hearing the words “we're family,” Xiuling suddenly stopped for a moment.
She did not turn around.
She simply let the corners of her mouth quietly rise.
Then she hurried back into the room.
Zhou Hong remained where she was, watching Xiuling disappear behind the bedroom door.
Only then did she turn toward Wen-Hua.
She wore a knowing smile.
“Mr. Yang.”
“Hmm?”
“It's rare to see our boss in such a good mood.”
Zhou Hong deliberately paused, then pointed toward the direction Xiuling had gone.
“We have you to thank for that!”
Wen-Hua froze.
“Me?”
“Of course.”
Zhou Hong's smile became even more knowing.
“A woman only becomes this happy when she is with someone she truly likes.”
Wen-Hua did not answer.
He looked at the closed bedroom door, and his feelings suddenly became complicated.
It was not that he could not sense Xiuling's feelings for him.
It was just that, deep in his heart, there was still a promise he had made ten years ago.
Xie Ci-En.
That name was like an invisible rope, always keeping hold of him.
But at this moment, when he saw Xiuling wearing the traditional outfit Wen-Qing had sewn by hand, smiling happily like a child, he began to ask himself for the first time:
“The ten years of waiting are about to end. Is the person I truly want to wait for still the same person from back then?”
He stood silently in the living room.
Outside, the night breeze gently moved through the treetops.
And the answer that had lain dormant in his heart for so many years seemed to be showing the first signs of awakening.
33. The International Medical Conference
The afternoon sunlight passed through the tall glass windows and slanted into the international conference hall of Shanghai Fudan Hospital.
The enormous hall was filled to capacity.
Chief physicians from major hospitals around the country, medical school professors, and experts and scholars from medical research institutions all wore name badges displaying their names and professional titles.
People spoke quietly among themselves. Occasionally, someone turned the pages of the research materials in their hands.
The entire conference hall was filled with a solemn and tense academic atmosphere.
At the center of the stage, a large projection screen continuously displayed the theme of the international medical conference.
People were still taking their seats in the last few rows.
Lin Xiuling sat beside the stage.
Today, she was not wearing her usual doctor's white coat. Instead, she had changed into the Tsou traditional outfit Wen-Qing had made for her by hand.
The patterns on the outfit stood out vividly under the lights.
She sat upright, her hands folded over her knees, but her eyes kept drifting toward the entrance from time to time.
She had not come here merely to attend the academic conference.
She was waiting for someone.
Yang Wen-Hua.
Whenever she thought of his name, a faint smile unconsciously appeared on her lips.
Not far from her, Zhao Xiaodong had also taken his seat.
He occasionally glanced toward Xiuling.
Her appearance today was completely different from usual.
She had lost some of the crisp professionalism of an urban doctor and gained a distinctive quality rooted in the mountains and her ethnic culture.
Zhao Xiaodong looked at her several times, but in the end, he did not walk over.
He knew he had no right to interfere with her.
But when he thought about the fact that she had come here today for another man, it felt as though a heavy stone were pressing against his chest.
At that moment, the host, Guo Han-Sheng, walked onto the stage.
He picked up the microphone, and the hall gradually fell silent.
“Ladies and gentlemen, next, we will introduce the distinguished guests who will be presenting their research papers at this conference.”
The projection screen began to change.
Photographs and academic biographies of the scholars appeared one after another.
“First, from New York, USA...”
Applause broke out.
The scholar whose name had been called stood up from the audience, straightened his jacket, walked onto the stage, and bowed to the audience.
Then came the next speaker.
One round of applause followed another.
Lin Xiuling, however, remained quietly seated.
It was not until Guo Han-Sheng turned the page of the materials in his hands that he continued.
“Next is the young physician who has attracted considerable attention at this conference.”
A slight stir began to spread through the hall.
“Yang Wen-Hua.”
Yang Wen-Hua's photograph immediately appeared on the projection screen.
“From the Taitung Branch of Guanghua Hospital in Taiwan, specializing in minimally invasive surgery and microsurgery.”
“Although he is still young, he has already demonstrated outstanding achievements in several areas of clinical surgical research.”
“Today, he will present his paper, titled—‘Applications of Minimally Invasive Surgery in Aesthetic Medicine.’”
A round of applause erupted throughout the hall.
Yang Wen-Hua, seated in the front rows, slowly stood up.
He was wearing a dark suit. His expression was composed, and he made no attempt to draw attention to himself. He simply nodded slightly to those around him and then walked toward the stage.
Every step was steady and purposeful.
Lin Xiuling's eyes immediately lit up.
The senior who had once treated villagers in Shanmei Village and taught her how to pick tea in the Dabang Village tea plantation was now standing on the stage of an international medical conference.
Looking at his back, an indescribable sense of pride suddenly welled up inside her.
“Senior...”
She almost whispered the word without making a sound.
Yang Wen-Hua walked to the front of the stage and turned to face the audience.
He bowed slightly.
“Good afternoon, everyone. To all the senior physicians and professors here, hello.”
The applause rose again.
Just then—
Lin Xiuling stood up.
Holding a bouquet of pure white Casablanca lilies in both hands, she slowly walked forward from the side of the stage.
In an instant, almost everyone's eyes in the conference hall turned toward her.
The Tsou traditional outfit stood out especially vividly beneath the lights of the international conference hall.
Some people whispered to one another.
Others looked at her curiously.
Several foreign scholars even leaned toward the people beside them and quietly asked questions.
Yang Wen-Hua also froze for a moment.
“Xiuling?”
Lin Xiuling did not answer.
She simply smiled and walked up to him.
“Congratulations, Senior.”
She handed him the bouquet.
“This is for you.”
Yang Wen-Hua accepted the flowers.
The faint fragrance of the lilies drifted toward him.
He looked at the junior standing before him, and a trace of tenderness flashed in his eyes.
“Thank you.”
Xiuling smiled.
“You can do it.”
It was only a short sentence, yet it made Yang Wen-Hua's heart tremble slightly.
At that moment, he suddenly remembered two years ago—
The clinic in Shanmei Village.
The tea plantation in Dabang Village.
And that suspension bridge.
She had once told him there that she was willing to wait for him.
And now, she was still standing beside him.
Yet the ten-year promise in his heart remained like an invisible shackle.
Guo Han-Sheng looked at the two of them and smiled as he added an introduction.
“Everyone, the woman who has just presented Dr. Yang Wen-Hua with flowers is his junior from the National Taiwan University College of Medicine—Dr. Lin Xiuling.”
“She has now opened her own medical aesthetics clinic in Shanghai. The two are not only alumni, but also outstanding members of the younger generation in the medical field.”
Another round of applause broke out.
Lin Xiuling bowed slightly.
Then she stepped aside.
However, she did not know that—
A pair of eyes in the audience was fixed intensely on this entire scene.
Zhao Xiaodong sat in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest.
His expression grew darker and darker.
What was this supposed to mean?
Giving him flowers.
Presenting flowers to him in front of everyone.
And wearing that special traditional outfit.
He watched the two of them standing together on the stage, feeling as though something were lodged in his chest.
“Xiuling...”
He whispered the name silently in his heart.
“Do you really only see me as a backup?”
He knew he had no right to be angry.
Xiuling had never promised him anything.
She had even reminded him again and again—
They were just friends.
But knowing that was one thing.
Actually seeing her standing beside another man was another.
Jealousy was like a thin needle, slowly piercing his heart.
He instinctively clenched his fists.
Then quickly relaxed them.
“How much longer do I have to wait?”
Xiuling’s Villa
The night grew deep, and the villa community in the suburbs of Shanghai gradually quieted down.
Several dim garden lights illuminated the courtyard outside the window, while the shadows of the trees swayed gently in the night breeze. Only a few warm yellow lights were on in the living room. A pot of freshly brewed tea sat beside the coffee table, and a faint tea fragrance filled the air.
Lin Xiuling sat on the sofa, holding a teacup in both hands, occasionally looking up toward the hallway. She clearly knew that Wen-Hua had only gone to change his clothes, yet for some reason, she felt a little expectant. It was as if she were waiting for a scene she had imagined many years ago. Finally, the bedroom door opened. Yang Wen-Hua walked out wearing the sky-blue shirt he had just bought, paired with dark trousers, with a paper box in his hand.
Lin Xiuling’s gaze fell on him, and for a moment, she forgot to drink her tea.
She put down her teacup and slowly stood up. “That’s more like it.”
She walked over to Wen-Hua and looked him up and down, admiration shining in her eyes.
“Distinguished, handsome—that’s how a doctor attending an international medical conference should look!”
Wen-Hua looked down at himself, then at Xiuling.
“Is it really that exaggerated?”
“Of course it is.” Xiuling reached out and straightened his shirt collar. The movement was natural, but when her fingers touched his collar, the two of them stopped for a moment at the same time. Xiuling’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. She quickly withdrew her hand and smiled as if nothing had happened. “Mm, much better now.”
Wen-Hua looked at her without saying anything. He suddenly remembered that she had once straightened his clothes in the tea plantation in Dabang Village in exactly the same way. Back then, she had been his junior. Now, she was the owner of a medical aesthetics clinic in Shanghai. Two years had changed many things. Including her. And himself as well. Wen-Hua quickly pulled himself back from his thoughts and raised the paper box in his hand. “Oh, right, Xiuling. My older sister and younger sister also have gifts for you.”
Xiuling’s eyes immediately lit up. “Really?”
She reached out to take the paper box, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. “I’ve missed Sister Wen-Ying and Wen-Qing so much!”
“Don’t get too excited yet.” Wen-Hua smiled and placed the paper box on the coffee table. He opened the lid and first took out a beautifully packaged container of tea. “This is from my sister Wen-Ying.”
Xiuling took the tea and examined the packaging carefully, the corners of her mouth unconsciously turning upward. “Wen-Ying knows I love tea.”
Wen-Hua then took a neatly wrapped garment bag from the paper box.
“And this.” He handed the garment bag to Xiuling. “Traditional clothing handmade by my younger sister Wen-Qing.”
Xiuling froze for a moment. “Wen-Qing made it?” She carefully opened the garment bag. A delicate Tsou traditional outfit came into view. Xiuling gently ran her hand over the fabric, feeling the intricate patterns beneath her fingertips, her eyes filled with surprise.
“She really made it herself?”
“Mm.” Wen-Hua nodded. “She said that when she first met you, she knew you would definitely like it.”
Xiuling looked up. “She still remembers me?”
“Not only does she remember you.” Wen-Hua smiled. “She also said that if you ever came to Dabang Village one day, she would definitely make a set of clothes for you herself.”
Xiuling lowered her head and looked at the clothes in her hands. A warm feeling suddenly welled up inside her. She had not actually spent much time with the Yang family, but that trip to Dabang Village had become a memory she treasured deep in her heart. Especially her memories of Wen-Hua’s family. Their warmth and lack of distance were something rarely found in the urban life of Shanghai.
“Wen-Hua...” She looked up at him. “Please thank Wen-Qing and Wen-Ying for me.”
“You should tell them yourself.”
“Mm.” Xiuling nodded gently.
Wen-Hua pointed at the clothes again. “Try them on. If they don’t fit, I’ll have Wen-Qing alter them when I go back.”
Xiuling held the clothes up against herself and stood in front of the mirror to take a look.
“They should fit.” She turned around once. “Wen-Qing and I are about the same size.”
“She said the same thing.”
“Really?”
“Mm.” Wen-Hua smiled. “She said you would definitely look beautiful wearing them.”
When Xiuling heard those words, it felt as though something had gently touched her heart. She raised her eyes and glanced at Wen-Hua.
“Then I’ll try them on for you.”
With that, she hugged the clothes and turned to walk into the bedroom.
A short while later, the bedroom door opened again. Lin Xiuling stood in front of the mirror wearing the Tsou traditional outfit. She made a final adjustment to the hem, then took a deep breath. A thought suddenly occurred to her. If Wen-Hua saw her like this, would he like it? The thought made her a little shy. But the next second, she told herself inwardly: I’m only showing him the clothes his sister gave me. She lifted her head, a playful smile appearing at the corners of her lips. Then she deliberately walked out of the room with the steps of a fashion model on a runway. One step. Two steps. Three steps. She stopped in front of Wen-Hua and deliberately spun around once. “Senior Wen-Hua, what do you think?”
Wen-Hua looked at her and, for a moment, did not answer. The Xiuling before him had shed the sharp, professional look of her usual white doctor’s coat and taken on a more rustic and graceful air. The traditional outfit unexpectedly suited her figure and demeanor perfectly.
“You look beautiful.”
Only three words, yet they made Xiuling’s heart tremble slightly.
“Really?”
“Really.” Wen-Hua nodded. “It suits you very well.”
Xiuling smiled.
Just then, footsteps came from the direction of the kitchen. Zhou Hong walked out of the kitchen wearing an apron, just about to call the two of them to dinner.
“Boss, dinner is ready—” She stopped halfway through her sentence. Her eyes fell on Xiuling.
“Wow!” Zhou Hong could not help widening her eyes. “That outfit is beautiful!”
Xiuling immediately smiled and spun around once. “Isn’t it?” Like a child who had received a new toy, she tugged at the hem of the garment. “My senior’s younger sister, Wen-Qing, made it especially for me.”
“No wonder.” Zhou Hong stepped closer and carefully examined the outfit. “The fabric, the style—they’re both very distinctive, and it fits you perfectly.”
“Exactly!” Xiuling could not hide the smile on her face. She looked down at the clothes, then up at Wen-Hua. “Your sister is really amazing.”
Wen-Hua smiled. “If she knew how much you liked it, she’d be very happy.”
Xiuling gently touched the hem of the garment. At that moment, she suddenly had the illusion that she was not visiting this home for the first time. It was as if she had already been accepted by the Yang family. The feeling made her heart both sweet and stirred by an emotion she did not dare touch. She knew very clearly that the reason she treasured this gift so much might not truly be the clothes themselves. It was the person who had given her the clothes. And even more, the man behind that gift—the man she had always wanted to draw closer to, yet had never truly dared to reach out and hold on to.
“We’ve been talking so long that dinner is going to get cold.” Xiuling suddenly came back to herself. “I’ll go change first.”
She lifted the hem of her skirt and happily turned toward the bedroom. After walking a few steps, she turned her head back.
“Wen-Hua.”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
Wen-Hua was slightly taken aback, then smiled. “We’re family. No need to be so polite.”
When Xiuling heard the words “we’re family,” her steps suddenly stopped for a moment. She did not turn around, but the corners of her mouth quietly lifted. Then she quickly walked back into the room.
Zhou Hong stood where she was and watched Xiuling disappear behind the bedroom door before turning to look at Wen-Hua. A meaningful smile appeared on her face.
“Mr. Yang.”
“Mm?”
“It’s rare to see our boss in such a good mood.” Zhou Hong deliberately paused, then pointed toward the direction Xiuling had gone. “It’s all thanks to you!”
Wen-Hua was startled. “Thanks to me?”
“Of course.” Zhou Hong’s smile became even more meaningful. “A woman only becomes this happy when she is with someone she truly likes.”
Wen-Hua did not answer. He looked at the closed bedroom door, and his thoughts suddenly became complicated. It was not that he could not sense Xiuling’s feelings for him. It was just that deep in his heart, there was still a promise he had made ten years ago. Xie Ci-En. That name was like an invisible rope that had always kept him tethered.
But at this moment, when he saw Xiuling wearing the traditional outfit Wen-Qing had sewn by hand and smiling as happily as a child, he asked himself for the first time, “The ten years of waiting are about to end. Is the person I truly want to wait for still the same person from back then?”
He stood silently in the living room. Outside, the night breeze gently passed through the treetops. And the answer that had slept inside his heart for so many years seemed to be showing signs of awakening.
- A Warm Meal of Simple Rice Porridge and Home-Style Dishes
The deep night enveloped the outskirts of Shanghai. Several dim garden lights illuminated the courtyard outside the villa, while the shadows of the trees swayed gently in the breeze. The occasional sound of passing vehicles came from the distance, followed by silence once again.
Inside the house, however, everything was warm and cozy. The crystal chandelier in the dining room cast a soft light, and several simple home-style dishes were arranged in the center of the dining table. There were no luxurious delicacies, yet a familiar and comforting taste of home filled the air.
Lin Xiuling carried a bowl of freshly cooked sweet potato porridge and sat down across from Yang Wen-Hua. She scooped up a large spoonful of porridge, gently blew on it, and then placed it in front of Wen-Hua.
“Here. I made this sweet potato porridge especially for you.”
Yang Wen-Hua looked down at the steaming sweet potato porridge in the bowl, then at the several dishes on the table.
Stir-fried sweet potato leaves, fermented tofu with rice wine, scallion-fried dried anchovies, and pan-fried eggs with preserved radish. They were as simple as could be. Yet that familiar taste of home suddenly brought warmth to his heart.
“And these,” Xiuling said with a smile, pointing at the dishes on the table. “I made them all myself.”
Yang Wen-Hua picked up his spoon and took a mouthful of sweet potato porridge. The moment it entered his mouth, he was slightly taken aback. It was not an elaborate dish, yet it carried a familiar feeling he could not quite put into words.
“Mm...”
Xiuling immediately widened her eyes. “How is it?”
Wen-Hua deliberately paused for a moment. “Not bad.”
“What do you mean, ‘not bad’?” Xiuling pretended to be displeased and lightly slapped the table. “I made this especially for you!”
Wen-Hua laughed. “I mean it. It has a very authentic Taiwanese flavor.”
Only then did Xiuling smile with satisfaction. “When I eat simple porridge and side dishes at home, this is the flavor I’ve always had.”
She picked up a pair of chopsticks and put some sweet potato leaves into her own bowl.
“I grew up eating light Taiwanese food with my father, so I got used to it.” She raised her head, a trace of memory appearing in her eyes.
“I stir-fried the sweet potato leaves myself. I only added garlic and salt. Actually, what I miss most is that meal in Alishan.”
Wen-Hua looked at her. “Which meal?”
“You forgot?”
Xiuling slightly pouted. “At your house! Your mother, Wen-Qing, and Wen-Ying cooked that Tsou-style meal together.” As she spoke, she could not help smiling. “The grilled boar on a stone slab, the fried stream fish, the salt-baked stream shrimp, the cold salad with areca blossom... I still remember the taste even now.”
Wen-Hua put down his spoon. “So you like Tsou-style food.”
“Of course.” Xiuling nodded, but her expression unconsciously softened. “It wasn’t just delicious.”
She looked out the window. In the darkness, scattered lights glimmered in the distance.
“That was the first time I realized that someone’s home could be so warm.”
Those words made Wen-Hua fall silent.
He looked at Xiuling before him and suddenly thought of the days she had spent struggling on her own in Shanghai after leaving Alishan. From being a stranger in a foreign place to owning her own clinic, she appeared to have become very successful. But behind that success, how much loneliness had there been? Wen-Hua’s heart stirred slightly.
“If you like it, I’ll make a few dishes for you next time.”
Xiuling froze for a moment. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You know how to cook Tsou-style food?”
Wen-Hua smiled. “I watched my parents cook it at home when I was growing up, so I know how to make a few dishes.”
Xiuling’s eyes lit up, and she immediately sat up straight. “Then what are you planning to cook?”
“Well...” Wen-Hua deliberately kept her in suspense. “First, we’ll have to see what ingredients we can find.”
“Can’t we find them here?”
“I don’t know either.” Wen-Hua spread his hands. “After all, Shanghai is different from Alishan.”
Xiuling thought for a moment, then suddenly smiled. “Then that’s easy.”
She picked up the teapot and poured Wen-Hua a cup of tea.
“Tomorrow morning, I’ll take you to a traditional market nearby.”
“You’ll take me?”
“Of course.” She pushed the teacup toward Wen-Hua. “You can pick out the ingredients yourself.”
Wen-Hua looked at her and could not help laughing. “Looks like you won’t be satisfied until you get to eat the Tsou-style food I cook, huh?”
“Of course.” Xiuling nodded firmly.
“Who told you to say you’d cook it for me?” She pointed her chopsticks at Wen-Hua. “Since you’ve already offered, I have to give you a chance to show what you can do.”
“All right.” Wen-Hua shook his head with a smile. “I’ll show off my cooking skills, so you won’t say I only know how to talk big.”
“Then I’ll look forward to it.” Xiuling smiled, her eyes curving into crescents.
The two continued eating. The atmosphere at the dining table became even more relaxed. From time to time, Xiuling would put a piece of dried anchovy into Wen-Hua’s bowl, and Wen-Hua would put some of the sweet potato leaves from his own bowl into Xiuling’s. Their movements were as natural as those of a couple who had been married for many years. Xiuling lowered her head and ate, a faint smile lingering on her lips. But beneath that smile, a thought quietly rose in her heart. If only they could eat together like this every day... How wonderful would that be?
She secretly raised her eyes toward Wen-Hua. Under the light, he lowered his head and drank his porridge, his expression focused and peaceful. This man had once been the senior she could only admire from afar. Now, he was sitting right in front of her, eating the sweet potato porridge she had cooked herself. They were so close. Close enough that she almost believed she had truly entered his life. But the next second, her heart felt as if it had been pricked by a fine needle. She knew. Wen-Hua still had Xie Ci-En in his heart. The woman he had promised to wait ten years for. And the ten-year deadline was drawing closer and closer.
Xiuling’s hand holding the chopsticks paused slightly. How much longer can I wait? She wanted to ask. But in the end, she did not say it aloud.
“Xiuling?” Wen-Hua suddenly raised his head.
“Mm?”
“Why did you suddenly stop eating?”
Xiuling froze for a moment, then smiled. “It’s nothing.” She picked up some sweet potato leaves and casually placed them into her bowl.
“I was just suddenly wondering whether the market tomorrow will have the ingredients you need.”
Wen-Hua looked at her, seemingly noticing the brief change in her expression, but he did not press her. He simply smiled. “It’s okay if we can’t find them.”
“Why?”
“I can make a few different dishes instead.”
“That won’t do.” Xiuling immediately smiled. “You already promised to cook Tsou-style food for me.”
Wen-Hua looked at her serious expression and smiled as well. “Okay.” He lifted his teacup. “Then we’ll go to the market tomorrow and see what we can find.”
Xiuling also lifted her teacup and gently clinked it against his. A crisp sound rang out. It was like a small promise. Outside the window, the night remained deep and still. Yet the two people at the dining table said nothing aloud about it—this seemingly ordinary dinner might have been more precious to both of them than any sumptuous feast.
- The Handshake Between Love Rivals
It was break time, and people in the international conference hall gradually streamed into the hallway.
Beyond the tall floor-to-ceiling windows, the afternoon sunlight passed through the glass and cast bright patches of light across the white marble floor. Groups of medical professors and chief physicians stood on both sides of the hallway talking. English, Mandarin, and Shanghai-accented speech could occasionally be heard mingling together, filling the entire corridor with the characteristic busy yet reserved atmosphere of an academic conference.
Yang Wen-Hua and Lin Xiuling walked out of the conference hall side by side. Xiuling’s eyes remained fixed on Wen-Hua’s face, and her barely concealed delight showed in her eyes. To her, today’s conference was not merely an international medical academic event. More importantly—the man she had waited so long for was right beside her at this moment. She could hardly believe that the senior she had only been able to watch from afar two years ago had actually come to Shanghai.
Lin Xiuling gently straightened the identification badge on Wen-Hua’s chest. “Wen-Hua, your presentation was excellent.”
Yang Wen-Hua smiled. “It was all right. I mainly just organized my clinical experience and shared it with everyone.”
“You’re still the same.”
“How so?”
“You clearly did very well, yet you always act as if it’s nothing special.”
Wen-Hua looked at her and could not help smiling. “What about you? Why did you suddenly go up on stage to give me flowers today?”
Xiuling deliberately blinked. “Why not?”
“Of course you can.”
Wen-Hua lowered his eyes and looked at the Tsou traditional outfit she was wearing.
“This outfit is beautiful.”
Xiuling’s eyes immediately lit up. “Really?”
“Mm. It suits you very well.”
It was only a simple sentence, yet Xiuling felt as if something had gently struck her heart. She lowered her head, the corners of her mouth quietly lifting. This was the outfit Wen-Qing had made for her by hand. And the reason she had deliberately worn it to the conference today was, to some extent, because of a private wish. She wanted Wen-Hua to see her in it. She wanted to know whether he would like it. And now, she had her answer.
Xiuling raised her head and said softly, “Wen-Hua, I’ll go back to the clinic first.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll come back to pick you up this evening.”
“You don’t have to make a special trip. I can go there myself.”
“No.” Xiuling immediately shook her head. “It’s your first time in Shanghai. Of course I should be your host.”
Wen-Hua looked at her determined expression. He knew that refusing again would only upset her, so he nodded.
“Okay, then I’ll trouble you.”
“That’s more like it.” Xiuling smiled like a child who had received a reward. She walked forward two steps, then suddenly stopped. Wen-Hua looked at her in confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
Xiuling did not answer. She simply turned around and quickly walked back to Wen-Hua. The next second, she rose slightly onto her toes and gently kissed him on the cheek.
“Smack.”
The kiss was as quick as a swallow skimming across the surface of the water.
Wen-Hua froze completely. Xiuling herself had not expected to be so direct, and her cheeks immediately flushed. She gave Wen-Hua no time to react, simply leaving him with one sentence: “See you this evening!” Then she turned around and walked lightly toward the elevators, lifting her steps as if she were carrying up the hem of a skirt. After walking more than a dozen steps, she finally dared to glance back secretly.
Wen-Hua was still standing where he was.
Xiuling could not help smiling. After all these years, he could still make her heart race so quickly. Yet behind her smile, a trace of uneasiness rose in her heart. She knew that there had always been someone hidden in Wen-Hua’s heart. Xie Ci-En. The first love he had waited ten years for. Could she really wait for him to let go of the past? Xiuling pressed her lips together. Forget it. At least right now, he was in Shanghai. And she wanted to cherish this brief reunion.
Just then, the doors of the conference hall opened again. Guo Han-Sheng and his daughter, Guo Xin-Mei, walked out. Guo Xin-Mei was organizing the materials in her hands while talking to her father.
“Dad, do you really think highly of that Dr. Yang’s paper?”
Guo Han-Sheng smiled. “I think much more than highly of it. He’s so young, yet he can present his own clinical research at an international conference, and it isn’t just packaging. He has genuine clinical results.”
He raised his head. Just then, he happened to see Yang Wen-Hua standing in the hallway. Then he looked at Lin Xiuling, who had just left. Guo Han-Sheng’s eyes immediately lit up.
“Come on. I’ll introduce you to him.”
The father and daughter walked toward Yang Wen-Hua.
“Dr. Yang!”
Wen-Hua turned around. Guo Han-Sheng extended both hands and warmly grasped his hand.
“Brother Yang, it’s a pleasure to meet you! A pleasure!”
“President Guo, hello.”
“I’ve read several of your papers!” Guo Han-Sheng patted his arm, his admiration completely undisguised. “A young man who rises to the occasion! Truly, the younger generation is impressive!”
Wen-Hua smiled modestly. “You’re too kind, President Guo.”
“Come, let me introduce someone to you.” Guo Han-Sheng turned slightly to the side. “This is my daughter, Guo Xin-Mei. She’s still studying medicine and began her hospital internship this year.”
Guo Xin-Mei stepped forward and extended her hand. “Dr. Yang, hello. I look forward to learning from you.”
Yang Wen-Hua reached out and lightly shook her hand. “You’re too kind. We’re all in the medical profession. We can exchange ideas whenever we have the opportunity.”
Guo Xin-Mei looked at the young doctor before her. Calm, modest, and without the sharp edge of many young physicians. She became even more curious. This man is more than meets the eye.
Guo Han-Sheng was about to say something else when footsteps suddenly came from behind him.
“Professor Guo.”
Guo Han-Sheng turned around and saw Zhao Xiaodong walking out of the conference hall.
“Perfect timing.” Guo Han-Sheng smiled and waved. “I was just about to introduce the two of you.”
Zhao Xiaodong walked closer. His eyes first fell on Guo Han-Sheng, then shifted to Yang Wen-Hua. The two men’s eyes met in midair. It lasted only a few seconds, yet the air seemed to acquire an invisible tension.
Zhao Xiaodong, of course, knew who he was. Yang Wen-Hua. The “senior” Lin Xiuling had spoken about. And the man who had clearly changed Xiuling’s state of mind over the past few days.
Guo Han-Sheng was completely unaware of the tension between them. He smiled as he introduced them. “This is Zhao Xiaodong, chief physician of our hospital’s Department of Surgery. He’s young and accomplished, with very strong clinical skills.”
Then he pointed toward Yang Wen-Hua. “This is Yang Wen-Hua, from Guanghua Hospital in Taiwan, and one of the physicians presenting a paper at this conference. You’re both surgeons. You should have plenty of opportunities to exchange ideas and get to know each other.”
Zhao Xiaodong extended his hand. “Dr. Yang, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Yang Wen-Hua also extended his hand. “Chief Zhao, likewise.”
Their hands came together. At first, it was merely a polite handshake. But the next second—
Zhao Xiaodong’s fingers suddenly tightened. The pressure increased little by little. Yang Wen-Hua’s brow moved almost imperceptibly. He could feel the force coming from the other man’s palm. This was nothing like an ordinary handshake between two doctors meeting for the first time. It was more like an undeclared contest.
Wen-Hua did not back down. He increased the pressure of his own grip as well.
Their hands remained suspended between them. Zhao Xiaodong stared at him. Yang Wen-Hua calmly met his gaze.
After a moment, Zhao Xiaodong released his hand first.
“A pleasure to meet you.”
Yang Wen-Hua said nothing more and simply gave a faint nod.
However, Guo Xin-Mei, standing nearby, had seen the entire scene clearly. She slightly furrowed her brows. Strange. That handshake just now... no matter how she looked at it, it did not seem like an ordinary polite handshake.
She secretly glanced at Zhao Xiaodong. The smile remained on his face, but his eyes were much colder than before. Guo Xin-Mei suddenly understood something. She looked again toward the direction in which Lin Xiuling had left.
Could it... be because of Dr. Lin?
Guo Xin-Mei did not say anything. She simply tucked the question quietly away in her heart.
Yang Wen-Hua, too, was left with a question in his mind. This Chief Zhao seemed to have some inexplicable hostility toward him. He did not know that from the moment he had stepped into Shanghai
