On Standby - Chapter 9

The air seemed to freeze as both women fell silent.

Tang Feihuan couldn’t understand why Lin Ye had suddenly become angry. Lin Ye, calming down, realized there was no need for such a reaction. They had been separated for years, and there was no point in venting old resentments now. Though she had rarely shown her emotions to Tang Feihuan even before their breakup, enduring everything until she finally sent a single line: “Tang, I started this, and I’ll end it. Take care of yourself abroad.” The next day, she received a curt “Okay.” Eight days later, she blocked and deleted all of Tang Feihuan’s contact information.

Time ticked by, the awkward tension hanging heavy in the air. Lin Ye, drenched in sweat from the pain, gritted her teeth and maintained a composed expression, her voice deliberately flat. “I can manage myself, thank you.”

“Are you sure you don’t need—” Tang Feihuan began, but Lin Ye cut her off, pointing to the car door handle to signal her to pull her head back. Tang Feihuan hesitated, unsure what to do, then took a half-step back. In the next instant, Lin Ye slammed the car door shut.

Tang Feihuan watched anxiously as Lin Ye started the engine, turned the steering wheel, and pulled out of the parking space. She hurried to her motorcycle, put on her helmet and gloves, swung her leg over the seat, and twisted the throttle to accelerate. The car and motorcycle exited the parking lot in tandem. Tang Feihuan, dressed in a black Adidas tracksuit and a black helmet, seemed to blend seamlessly with her dark motorcycle under the streetlights. She rode close to the right side of the road, maintaining a safe distance behind the car. The brightly lit streetscape blurred past, but her thoughts remained fixed on Lin Ye in the car ahead.

Lin Ye initially pressed the accelerator angrily, pushing the car to 60 kilometers per hour. But when she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the figure behind her, her lingering anger gave way to instinctive concern for their safety. Fearing an accident at such high speed, she turned left onto Yuntong Avenue and gently braked to slow down.

The drive from the Second Affiliated Hospital to the faculty housing area of Shu River University required crossing a bridge, passing through three streets, and took about fifteen minutes. Feeling unwell that evening, Lin Ye drove more slowly than usual, finally parking in the outdoor lot opposite the faculty building around eight o’clock.

Not far away, Tang Feihuan turned off her motorcycle, parked it by the roadside, and hid behind a sycamore tree. From her vantage point, she watched Lin Ye push open the car door and step out, still clutching her lower abdomen and walking unsteadily, clearly still in pain.

But she couldn’t approach. What if Lin Ye rejected her again? What if she ran into someone upstairs she wasn’t ready to face?

Tang Feihuan stood silently beneath the tree, waiting as Lin Ye climbed to the first floor, then the second, and finally the third. The security door slammed shut, and the motion-sensor lights on the adjacent two floors suddenly flickered on. She knew Lin Ye had made it home safely.

After another half-minute of hesitation, Tang Feihuan turned to leave. Just as she turned, her phone vibrated softly in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw a new WeChat message:

“Go home now. Thank you.”

A follow-up message: “You’re on duty tomorrow. Please keep an eye on the new resident, Gu Yan.”

Another message: “Thank you.”

Polite, overly polite—the kind of message you’d send to a casual colleague.

Tang Feihuan looked up from her phone, her right hand still gripping it. Through the tightly drawn curtains of the third-floor window, she saw the warm yellow light cast the shadows of two figures pressed close together. She quickly averted her gaze, her lips tightening momentarily before relaxing slightly. She replied with a simple, “Okay.”

Under the crescent moon in the deepening night, Tang Feihuan climbed back onto her motorcycle. As she braced the helmet between her hands, ready to put it on, an elderly voice called out from behind her.

“Doctor Tang.”

Tang Feihuan turned to see Professor Zheng and several of his family members standing before her. She dismounted and gave a slight nod. “Professor Zheng, my deepest condolences.”

Professor Zhong’s memorial service had concluded that day. After two days of persuasion, his children had finally convinced Professor Zheng to move abroad with them.

“Thank you,” Professor Zheng replied, his left arm still in its black cotton sling, his face gaunt with grief. “I’m deeply grateful for the care you gave Old Zhong.”

Though Tang Feihuan often cautioned against excessive empathy, under Lin Ye’s influence, she had personally taken Professor Zhong’s final electrocardiogram, officially declaring his death. When his children arrived, she had offered them heartfelt condolences.

“It’s the least I could do,” Tang Feihuan replied.

Professor Zheng’s son suddenly asked, “Does Doctor Tang live nearby?”

“No, my colleague lives here.”

“Director Xiao Lin? She lives right across from us. I only found out today.” Lin Wenhui had attended Professor Zhong’s memorial service earlier that day, and after paying her respects, she had chatted briefly with Professor Zheng’s son, who naturally knew about her.

Tang Feihuan murmured in acknowledgment.

The professor’s son continued, “We’re planning to sell the house. We were hoping to ask Doctor Tang about the market value of apartments in the faculty housing complex.”

The professor’s daughter, who studied finance and economics and worked at a bank abroad, cautioned him, “The market for used apartments is sluggish right now. Plus, all our relatives and friends know Dad just passed away—they’re even less likely to buy. We need to get back quickly anyway. It’s better to rent out the old place for now and deal with it properly when we have more time to return.”

Having spent eight years in Heidelberg and only recently returned, Tang Feihuan had no idea about the local market value. She could only offer polite platitudes. After a long day of arrangements, Professor Zheng and his family said their goodbyes.

A doctor’s work knows no day or night, no fixed hours. Sometimes, you’ve barely taken a bite of your meal when the nurse’s phone rings, forcing you to set aside your delicious food and rush to save a life.

Tang Feihuan was on a 24-hour shift today. She had already handed over to the night shift doctor early and was sitting at her computer, writing patient records, when a nurse knocked on the door. “Doctor Tang, the patient in bed two has low bl00d pressure. You need to check on them immediately.”

“Okay, I’m coming,” Tang Feihuan replied, buttoning up her white coat, which she had unfastened earlier due to the sweat from eating noodles. She hurried to the Eicu ward. After observing the cardiac monitor and conducting a physical examination, she ordered, “Administer some norepinephrine.”

As soon as she issued the order, another patient in the adjacent bed suddenly deteriorated. The Resident Physician’s voice was urgent: “Start cardiopulmonary resuscitation immediately! I’ll go get Doctor Tang or Doctor Liu.”

“O-okay,” Gu Yan stammered, her hands trembling with nervousness. But the moment her hands touched the patient’s chest, she focused entirely on performing chest compressions. Beside her, Head Nurse Sun Qinhuai, with her years of experience, rattled off a series of questions: “Should we give sodium bicarbonate? Add some amiodarone? Should we check the EKG first to see if the ischemia has worsened?”

“Never mind,” Sun Qinhuai realized she was just a resident and asking would be pointless. She went to get the ECG herself.

Tang Feihuan sanitized her hands, pulled back the curtain between the two beds, and kept Gu Yan at her side, letting her continue chest compressions while she wrote orders for the Head Nurse to administer medication.

In less than three minutes, the patient’s heart rhythm was restored.

“The heart failure has worsened. Tell the family to be prepared for the worst,” Tang Feihuan said, her voice grave. This was her third patient of the day, an 85-year-old with acute heart failure. Surgery was no longer an option; he could only wait to die in the Eicu. As she left the room, Gu Yan followed, thanking her, “Thank you, Doctor Tang.”

Tang Feihuan looked puzzled. “What are you thanking me for?”

“For teaching me clinical knowledge,” Gu Yan replied, flipping open her notebook filled with meticulous notes on emergency resuscitation protocols. A bright smile lit up her face as she asked, “Doctor Tang, do you remember me?”

Tang Feihuan frowned, clearly struggling to recall. She interacted with so many patients and medical staff daily that remembering even her own team members was a challenge.

“On Tuesday, you performed cardiopulmonary resuscitation on a patient with a myocardial infarction at the back entrance. I helped call for the crash cart.”

“Oh, I remember now,” Tang Feihuan said, retrieving the memory. Wasn’t her hair long? When did she cut it short? The Gu Yan standing before her now sported a refreshing, ear-length bob that indeed looked much more energetic than her previous long hair.

It turned out that yesterday, after receiving Lin Ye’s notification, Gu Yan had immediately grabbed a stack of documents and rushed out to get her hair cut. She had shaved her head as a symbol of her determination, vowing not to rest until she achieved her goals. Tang Feihuan instructed her to spend more time in the ward observing and learning, asking questions whenever she was unsure, and especially to build good relationships with the nurses.

Gu Yan diligently took notes.

Duty shifts always seemed to fly by. At 5 p.m., Tang Feihuan was enjoying a bowl of bingfen (icy jelly dessert) she had just ordered when doctors from the Emergency Department’s general internal medicine group approached her.

“Is Director Lin on duty today?”

Tang Feihuan scooped up a spoonful of bingfen, swallowed it, and then replied, “She’s on the night shift. She should be here soon.”

“We’re facing a difficult case and need to transfer a patient to your ICU.”

“Tell me about it.”

The doctor briefly explained the situation: “The patient was admitted four days ago with a fever, cough, and a white bl00d cell count of 17 x 10^9/L. The neutrophil count was also elevated. We initially suspected a common bacterial pneumonia and started antibiotics, but they proved ineffective.”

A high white bl00d cell count typically rules out pneumonia caused by fungi or viruses. Tang Feihuan followed up, “Which antibiotics did you use?”

“Bondar (piperacillin sodium and tazobactam sodium).”

Having used such a strong antibiotic, it should have been effective against ordinary bacterial pneumonia. Tang Feihuan grew concerned and asked, “What’s the patient’s current temperature?”

“Nearly 39°C. They’re experiencing chest pain, muscle aches, and increased sputum production. That’s why I came to you.”

Tang Feihuan finished her ice jelly in two gulps and stood up. “Let’s go. Take me there.”

When they hurried into the patient’s room, the 17-year-old daughter was helping her mother cough up phlegm. Tang Feihuan, wearing a cap and mask, waited for the patient to lie back down before approaching to examine her.

Thick, bloody sputum. She immediately asked the doctor beside her, “Have you ruled out pulmonary tuberculosis?”

“We’ve done a chest X-ray, and it doesn’t look like tuberculosis. We’ve also tested her sputum twice, both negative.”

“We still need a CT scan to rule out other lung conditions,” Tang Feihuan said, leaning slightly forward to listen to the patient’s lungs with her stethoscope. She heard crackling sounds. Chest pain, bloody sputum, and a persistent high fever, but not severe enough to warrant transfer to the Emergency Intensive Care Unit. She recommended a CT scan and continued observation.

Hearing about the ICU, the patient immediately refused. “Doctor, I won’t go to the ICU. I’ve heard it costs thousands of yuan a day.”

Her 17-year-old daughter squeezed her hand. “Mom, we’ll spend whatever it takes to get you better.”

“Don’t talk nonsense! Your college tuition will cost money, and your sister-in-law will need money for her second child.”

The patient, Zhang Yan, was 50 years old. Her 30-year-old son ran a business on the snack street, while her daughter was still in high school. Having always been frugal, she figured that if treatment cost thousands of yuan a day, she’d rather not be treated at all.

“Once the doctor diagnoses me, I’ll just go home and take a couple of doses of traditional Chinese medicine.”

Patients with such beliefs were not uncommon. Tang Feihuan and the general internal medicine doctors were accustomed to it. They ordered a CT scan for Zhang Yan and asked her to get it done first.

Half an hour later, Zhang Yan’s CT scan was completed and displayed on the computer. The results ruled out pulmonary tuberculosis and other lung diseases. The general internal medicine doctor consulted with the respiratory medicine department, who confirmed a diagnosis of ordinary pneumonia that had failed to respond to treatment and progressed into a lung abscess. However, the respiratory medicine department stated they had no available beds and transferred Zhang Yan back to the Emergency Department for continued antibiotic therapy. They also used a fiberoptic bronchoscope to assist with sputum drainage and collected samples for testing.

The Emergency Department physician didn’t contact Tang Feihuan again, assuming that as long as the patient received appropriate medication, she would gradually improve.

With a brief lull in her workload, Tang Feihuan casually flipped through a nearby medical journal, The Annals of Thoracic Surgery, and browsed the newly published article by Director Wang of Cardiothoracic Surgery. She remembered how, two years ago, she had published her own article in the same journal and been so excited that she couldn’t sleep that night.

“Xiao Tang, come here for a moment,” Director Gao called out as he passed by.

This was the first time Director Gao had personally called Tang Feihuan to his office since she started working there, and she felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. She set down the magazine she was reading, left her desk, and followed Gao Zongxiang into the Director’s office.

Director Gao greeted her with a beaming smile. “Sit down, Xiao Tang.”

When a superior calls you in privately, it’s never good news. True to form, Director Gao wasted no time getting to the point. “You’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

Before Tang Feihuan could answer, he continued, “The Emergency Department has the highest concentration of single men and women in the hospital. The hospital administration is concerned about you all, so we’ve partnered with the Shu River University faculty union to organize a social event, giving you young talents a chance to meet.”

“Just the Emergency Department?” Tang Feihuan asked, missing the main point.

“Two other departments are participating, and staff from other departments can also sign up.” Noticing her keen interest, Director Gao opened a form to record her details. “Xiao Tang, your birthday is in January, right? You just turned thirty this year, correct?”

Tang Feihuan finally understood what he was getting at and tried to decline. “Director Gao, I…”

“Is that incorrect?”

Tang Feihuan forced a wry smile. “Director Gao, this is a voluntary sign-up, right?”

“In principle, it’s voluntary, but I hope you’ll be proactive. You’re all so busy with work that you rarely have time to meet new people. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Tang Feihuan knew she had to be firm to decline, so she lied, “Director, I have someone I like, and I’m trying to get to know him better.”

Director Gao sighed. “You young people always use the same excuses. Xiao Lin said the same thing five years ago—’I’m trying to get to know someone.’ Five years later, she’s still single and now 34.”

“Ah?” Tang Feihuan seized on the key point. “Is Director Lin still single? Doesn’t she have a daughter?”

“Yangyang is Xiao Lin’s adopted child. Now that she’s older and has a child, it’ll be even harder for her to marry. She’ll probably have to settle for a second marriage.”

Single… adopted… The words swirled in Tang Feihuan’s mind, drowning out Director Gao’s words.

“Xiao Tang, Xiao Tang.” Director Gao noticed her distracted expression and called her name twice.

“Yes, Director?” Tang Feihuan straightened up. “I was thinking about the patient I admitted this afternoon.” After a pause, she added, “Don’t worry, Director. I’m still young. I want to focus on my career for now.”

“Alright, I can’t force you,” Director Gao said. He had done his part in mobilizing them; how they chose to proceed was beyond his control.

Tang Feihuan thanked him briefly, excused herself with the pretense of work in the ward, and successfully escaped. Her mood soared, her eyes and brows radiating undisguised joy. Even a passing resident physician noticed and asked, “Doctor Tang, something good happen?” Tang Feihuan simply smiled without answering.

Back in the office, she ran into Lin Ye, who had just finished his shift. Unable to contain herself, she flashed him a radiant smile. To her surprise, Lin Ye simply walked past with a patient’s chart, showing no reaction whatsoever.

No matter, no matter. There’s plenty of time ahead. Shu River University faculty housing, Professor Zheng, neighbors…

Tang Feihuan was a woman of action; once she made up her mind, she acted immediately. She sat down at her computer, scrolled through the patients’ contact information, found Professor Zheng’s phone number, and dialed. When he answered, she said, “Professor Zheng, hello. This is Tang Feihuan from the Emergency Department at the Second Affiliated Hospital. I’m calling to ask if your old house in the Shu River University faculty housing area is still available for rent?”