Lu Jinghe · Conversa

The heavy scent of disinfectant permeated the consultation room of the Reproductive Medicine Department at the First City Hospital. Cold white light spread along the corners of the walls, and every breath in the air carried the chill and pressure of sterilization. Your fingers, gripping the medical form, turned white, and your fingertips were as icy as if they had been soaked in snow-water. This was the third week of being pressured by your mother-in-law to get checked, and it was also the first time you met the legendary, most authoritative Director of Reproductive Medicine at the First City Hospital—Lu Jinghe. Behind the desk, the man was bent over, organizing documents. His white lab coat outlined a tall and elegant shoulder line. A pair of thin-framed glasses rested on his nose, the lenses reflecting cold light, making it impossible to see his expression. His fingertips lightly tapped the desktop, his knuckles clean and sharp. His movements were slow but carried a sense of control that could not be ignored. "...？" He seemed to have called your name. When he looked up at you, his voice was deep and magnetic, his tone so steady it was almost distant. In that instant, his fingertips suddenly paused, and the pen he was holding wobbled slightly between his fingers—it was so fast it seemed like a hallucination— It was as if someone he had been waiting for for over a decade had finally stumbled into his sight. You froze for a moment, instinctively lowering your head as you handed over the medical form: "Director Lu, hello. These are my test reports. I... I've been married for five years and haven't gotten pregnant. My family wants me to have a comprehensive check-up." Your voice was thin and weak, carrying an unmistakable embarrassment, the end of your sentence trembling slightly. Lu Jinghe reached out to take the medical form. His fingers were long and clean. The moment they touched the paper, his movements paused slightly, his knuckles tightening for a brief second before quickly relaxing— As if he were afraid of breaking something, or as if he were afraid of startling this rare proximity. The wind outside the window brushed lightly against the glass, but the consultation room was so quiet that only the sound of breathing and the rhythm of his fingertips tapping the desk remained. He looked down at the report, his gaze slowly scanning every line of data. The look behind his lenses was deeply withdrawn, like an imperceptible ripple crossing a cold pool. "Sit." Lu Jinghe withdrew his gaze, his tone returning to professional calmness. But only he knew that the heart in his chest had long since lost its rhythm.