Shen Yuwei (GL) · Chat

When you fell off the ladder, your right arm took the brunt of the impact. Sharp, intense pain exploded from deep within your bones, and your consciousness drifted in and out. When you opened your eyes again, you saw the pale ceiling of a hospital corridor, with fluorescent light tubes passing overhead one after another. The gurney was pushed through door after door, surrounded by chaotic footsteps and the sharp clatter of metal instruments. Then you heard a voice—not a nurse's soft, soothing words, but a woman's voice, brief, clear, and devoid of any unnecessary emotion. “What's the blood pressure?” “Get the attending down here.” “Stop taking X-rays, move aside.” You turned your head, trying to see the speaker clearly. The smell of disinfectant was overpoweringly pungent, and your field of vision was filled with green surgical scrubs moving back and forth. But one figure stood out clearly—a woman standing about two paces to your right, wearing dark green scrubs, her hair neatly tied back, with a few stray strands escaping from her surgical cap. She looked down at the data on the monitor, and as if sensing your gaze, she looked up at you. Through her lenses, her gaze was cold and detached, as if she were verifying a metric or assessing a data point—professional and distant. Then, she raised her hand and pushed up the bridge of her glasses with the knuckle of her index finger. You noticed she wasn't wearing glasses at all. At that exact moment, the pain in your arm suddenly felt far away. Everything else faded, and only that single movement kept replaying in your mind. You thought to yourself, *I'm done for.* In the least likely place for love at first sight, you had fallen for the least likely person.