She learned to be an ordinary resident doctor, rather than "Miss Fujiwara."

This feeling is good.

She still couldn’t help but glance at him a few more times. During morning meetings, when he stood in front speaking, her eyes would unconsciously follow him. During surgeries, when he stood at the chief surgeon’s position and she at the assistant’s position, she would look at his focused profile through the sterile mask. During rounds, when he talked to patients with such warmth and patience, she would stand by the side, secretly watching him.

Her heart would still race when he smiled. When he smiled, his eyes curved into crescent shapes, looking very warm. Every time she saw him smile, her heart would flutter like a little deer.

She kept these feelings to herself, never spoke of them.

She knew she didn’t have the right.

Not because he is Chinese and she is Japanese, but because he has Xiao Su in his heart.

Every time she saw them together, Fujiwara Miyuki would quietly walk away, not disturbing them. Or she would pretend to be indifferent, looking down at her phone, until they had passed by before looking up again.

Her phone beeped; it was a message from her brother, Fujiwara Masao.

"Miyuki, how are things over there?"

She replied, "Pretty good."

Her brother said, "Your year-long residency is almost up, you need to come back soon."

She froze for a moment, staring at the line of text, not moving for a while.

Indeed, her one-year residency visa was nearing expiration.

She replied, "I don’t want to return yet; I want to continue my residency."

"Continue?"

"Yes, brother."

"Why such thoughts?"

After thinking for a long time, she replied, "I don’t know."

She put the phone down and continued looking at the night outside the window.

There was a full, bright moon outside the window. The moon in Nandu and the moon in Tokyo are the same.

The next day, when she went to work, she received an email in her company inbox.

It was from a Japanese medical equipment company, containing detailed information about the latest Japanese-developed spinal correction system. At the end of the email was a note: "Miss Fujiwara, here is the information you requested. If there’s anything else you need, please let us know anytime."

She looked at the email, silent for a long time.

This was something she had inquired about earlier, for Yang Ping’s case. At that time, she hadn’t expected the company to actually send such crucial information.

She printed the information, a thick stack, not only including blueprints but also detailed process descriptions, even some core technical parameters. If such things fell into a competitor’s hands, their value would be immeasurable.

She took the information to find Yang Ping.

Yang Ping was in the office reading literature. Seeing her enter, he asked, "What’s the matter?"

She placed the information on his desk and said, "Take a look; this is the latest Japanese orthopedic equipment. It contains not only blueprints but also some special processes. I don’t know if it will be helpful for you."

Yang Ping paused, picked up the information, and flipped through it. He looked at it carefully, page by page, nodding occasionally. After reading, he looked up at her.

"It’s good, useful," he said, "Fujiwara, thank you; this is greatly helpful for our medical equipment processes."

She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, "You’re welcome, it’s the least I could do."

Yang Ping handed the information back to her, "But this information is too core; I can’t accept it."

She was stunned, "Why not?"

Yang Ping said, "This is your confidential information. Handing it to me isn’t appropriate."

She said, "But I want to help you."

Yang Ping shook his head, "Fujiwara, you don’t need to do this. You’re a good doctor; you don’t need to prove anything with these things."

She looked at him, a feeling she couldn’t express welled up inside her.

Suddenly she wanted to say something, something that had been bottled up in her heart for a long time.

"Mr. Yang, if you need, I have a lot more information like this. I can bring them over for Ruixing to use as a reference."

Yang Ping looked at her, his eyes complex.

"Fujiwara," he said, "you really shouldn’t do this. These pieces of information are core secrets, and sharing them isn’t good for you."

She said, "If it could offer some reference value and help more people, wouldn’t that be a good thing?"

Yang Ping was silent for a moment, then pushed the information back in front of her.

"Fujiwara, listen to me. You should keep this information and not bring it up again. As for us here, we’ll develop on our own; we don’t need to rely on this method."

She looked at him, suddenly feeling her eyes get a bit warm.

"But..." she said, "they always want me to steal your core technical intelligence. Why can’t it be reversed? I willingly help you steal some valuable technical intelligence. Please don’t stop me."

She stood up and bowed deeply to him.

Yang Ping looked at her, silent for a long time.

Then he stood up and walked up to her.

"Fujiwara," he said, "listen to me. I don’t need you to do this. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it; it’s because you don’t need to prove yourself in this way. You’re a good doctor, and that’s enough. Staying here to study earnestly and perform surgeries diligently, becoming an excellent doctor in the future, is the greatest help to me."

She lifted her head, looking at him.

His gaze was still so gentle, so sincere.

Suddenly, she wanted to cry.

Not out of sadness, but because she was touched.

How many people in this world would treat her this way? Not because of what she could bring, but because of who she was.

She took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Yang, I understand."

Yang Ping smiled and said, "Good, then keep this information safe and don’t bring up this matter again."

She nodded and put the information away.

As she was about to turn and leave, Yang Ping suddenly asked, "Fujiwara, what are your future plans?"

She paused for a moment and turned around, "What future?"

Yang Ping said, "You can’t stay here for residency forever, what are your plans for the future?"

She was silent for a while.

Then she said, "I haven’t decided yet."

Yang Ping looked at her, not saying a word.

Suddenly, she asked, "If... I wanted to stay here and work, would that be possible?"

Yang Ping didn’t answer.

She smiled and said, "I was just joking; I’m planning to return to Japan."

After speaking, she turned and walked out of the office.

She knew he wouldn’t ask her to stay. Not because he didn’t recognize her, but because he wanted to maintain distance. Three years ago, she confessed to him, and he rejected her. Now that she’s here, he can’t give her any wrong impressions.

She understood.

But understanding didn’t prevent her heart from aching.

Leaving the office, she stood in the corridor, gazing out at the sunlight for quite some time.

Stay?

She really wanted to stay.

She is the daughter of the Fujiwara Family, a doctor at the Affiliated Hospital of the University of Tokyo, and a rising star in Japanese sports medicine. She has her career, her family, her responsibilities.

But she also knew that if she returned to Tokyo, she might never see Yang Ping again.

She could use the occasional academic exchange opportunity to come by, send holiday greetings, maintain contact as ordinary friends. But would that be enough?

She knew for certain it wouldn’t be.

Her heart couldn’t leave this man. Despite him rejecting her, despite knowing that nothing could happen between them, she just couldn’t let go. She didn’t ask for much, only to see him every day. To be in the same hospital, to pass by each other in the same corridor, to hear him speak at morning meetings, to watch him perform surgery in the operating room—that would be enough for her.

Is such a request too much?

She stood in the corridor for a long time until Dr. Li passed by and asked, "Dr. Fujiwara, is something wrong?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and said, "Nothing."

On the weekend, she went to Baiyun Mountain alone.

It wasn’t her first time, but each visit brought different feelings. This time, she walked slowly along the mountain road, looking at the lush green trees, listening to the birds, watching the visitors coming and going.

At the top of the mountain, the entire Nandu City lay beneath her feet. The Pearl River gleamed like a silver ribbon cutting through the city. Skyscrapers stood in rows, and in the distance, she could see airplanes taking off and landing at Baiyun Airport.

An elderly local lady from Nandu was playing on the mountain with her granddaughter. The little girl ran around, picked up a handful of fallen leaves, saying she wanted to make bookmarks. The old lady saw her and greeted her with a smile, "Pretty girl, here alone?"

She responded in Chinese, "Yes."

The old lady asked, "Visiting?"

She said, "No, working here."

The old lady nodded, "Nandu is good, good food, good air, good people."

She smiled and agreed, "Yes, Nandu is good."

The old lady left with her granddaughter. She continued standing at the top, gazing at the city below.

She recalled Yang Ping’s words, "You are a good doctor, and that’s enough."

Is that enough?

She didn’t know.

All she knew was that she didn’t want to leave.