Before six in the morning, He Su Ye was woken by the sharp ring of his phone. Groggy, he answered, only to hear a panicked girl’s voice on the other end: “Dr. Liu, come quickly! The patient in bed 18 is in critical condition!”
He froze, about to tell her she had the wrong number, when the girl quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, wrong number, wrong number!”
Chuckling softly, he hung up but couldn’t fall back asleep. Giving up, he got out of bed.
Winter mornings were slow to brighten, and at nearly six, the sky was still a dull gray. He dipped his bread in warm milk with one hand while scanning a research paper with the other. The more he read, the more frustrated he became. Sighing, he muttered, That kid Li Jie is cutting more corners every time. Submitting something like this to the professor? He’s begging to be skinned alive.
Grabbing a pen, he crossed out large sections of the paper and called Li Jie.
At the hospital’s on-call room, Li Jie was dead asleep, jolted awake by the ringtone. Seeing it was He Su Ye, he grumbled, “Senior Brother, are you suffering from a hormonal imbalance? Why are you up so early?”
He Su Ye snapped, “What kind of garbage paper did you write? No wonder you didn’t dare hand it in yourself. Get a pen—I’ll dictate what to cut and rewrite. If you want to pass, stop complaining. I’ll stop by the inpatient department later; call me then.”
Li Jie obediently agreed, chuckling. “I knew Senior Brother couldn’t bear to see me drown!”
* * *
That morning, He Su Ye headed to the inpatient department, though it wasn’t required. Since he had prescribed herbal supplements for several patients, he wanted to check their progress and adjust treatments as needed.
In the endocrine and metabolism ward, a group of doctors and nurses were whispering among themselves. One doctor noticed him and called out, “Dr. He, isn’t it strange? The patient was fine yesterday, and now they’re gone today.”
He thought for a moment. “Was this the emergency around six this morning?”
“Exactly. A patient with exophthalmic goiter. Admitted only two days ago, and this morning, they passed away.”
“Thyroid storm leading to heart failure?”
Another doctor chimed in, “Possibly. Who knows? They were under observation. Now everyone’s worried the hospital might face a lawsuit. You know, our department has been unlucky lately—two patients lost in a week. First, the exophthalmic goiter patient, and before that, one with heart and kidney failure. With New Year’s coming, the whole ward feels like it’s under a dark cloud.”
A young nurse added flippantly, “At least it’s not another SARS outbreak. Compared to that, this is nothing!”
He Su Ye’s heart skipped a beat. Two senior doctors visibly stiffened, and the head nurse scolded the young nurse harshly, “Don’t talk nonsense! Get back to work!”
Just then, someone called out, “The director’s here!” The group dispersed immediately. Shaking his head, He Su Ye made his way to the on-call room to find Li Jie.
* * *
SARS. The word hadn’t been uttered in years, but it instantly brought back memories of that terrifying time. It was a disease that struck fear across the nation. This hospital had been no exception. Patients suffered from respiratory failure, shock, and eventually death. Even healthcare workers contracted it, collapsing in the very place they worked.
In the early days of the outbreak, the mortality rate was nearly 100%.
Everyone who had worked at the hospital during that year remembered how close they had come to death. Colleagues—some familiar, some less so—fell one after another. Their bodies, along with every personal belonging, were incinerated without a trace left behind.
It was a bleak time, a constant reminder of how fleeting life could be.
The pale winter sunlight felt distant, more like a smudge in the sky than a source of warmth. It couldn’t penetrate the hospital rooms. Staring at the sky, He Su Ye felt a sudden pang of emptiness.
I should visit Mom.
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