In the rainy June, the dark clouds loomed overhead, making the day seem like night. Neon lights of the city fell from the sky in long strands, illuminating the clouds, and day returned to the night again.

In the spacious corridors of the hospital, the click-clack of high heels echoed on the marble floor. Qiao Le'an pulled her black hair back into a bun, her snow-white coat draped over her shoulders, and a stethoscope hanging limply around her neck, shone with a cold metallic glint.

"Dr. Qiao, all three surgeries are scheduled for this afternoon. Then at 6 p.m., there's an academic exchange meeting..." the intern trailed after her, meticulously listing out today's schedule.

"Dr. Qiao, a patient just brought to the emergency department has lost a lot of blood. You'd better check it out right away." The nurse hurried in and spoke hastily.

"Mmm," Le'an nodded and quickly made her way to the emergency room.

On the portable bed laid a woman with disheveled hair, her face as pale as a ghost, wailing in unbearable pain.

The man standing next to the bed was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, now creased and stained with considerable amounts of fresh blood, yet without a trace of panic in his demeanor. He stood there, calm as a general on a battlefield, his side profile sharply chiseled, lips tightly pursed, appearing detached and indifferent.

Le'an rushed in and paused for a moment. Seeing his face clearly, she froze, her face turned deathly pale. The man, too, was looking at her, a hint of surprise fleetingly crossed normally controlled eyes, then replaced by a nonchalant twinkle as if amused by the coincidence.

She just happened to work at this hospital.

Le'an quickly averted her gaze toward the patient on the bed. She lifted the edge of the blanket and saw blood covering the woman's lower half, her white dress dyed a deep red.

"We can't save the child. Prepare for a D&C surgery," Le'an instructed the attending nurse calmly. Even she had to admire her own ability to maintain calmness and composure at this moment.

The nurse handed the surgery consent form to the man. He took it, his golden pen moving swiftly over the paper, signing the name 'Qu Ruobai'. His handwriting, much like him, was audacious and cold.

The surgery continued for over two hours. The baby had already been lost before the woman was brought to the hospital. All Le'an could do was clean out the patient's uterus properly to minimize further harm.

She stepped out of the operation room after the operation, removing her surgical mask and throwing it away along with her pale blue surgical gowns into a disposal bin. She was washing her hands when suddenly a deep and attractive male voice resonated behind her, yet carrying an undertone of coldness.

"Don't you have anything to ask me?"

Le'an didn't turn around because she didn't need to. She knew who it was without looking. She had listened to this voice for a whole three years.

She dried her cleaned hands under the sterilizer, then turned around with a delay.

He stood at the doorway, his tall figure partially obscured in the shadow, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. Casually exhaling smoke, his handsome face was vague behind the cloud of vapour, an ethereal sight that almost seemed unreal.

"What about you? Don't you have anything to explain?" Le'an met his deep gaze coolly, her tone unexpectedly calm. But her hands hidden behind her back were trembling violently. She was waiting for his answer. As long as he said he had not betrayed her, she would have believed him, even if it were a lie.