"A man's success depends on this one stroke, and I am the man atop that stroke!"
Ever since receiving an email confirming a journal submission, Wei Hanyang had been running back and forth across the living room like a runaway horse. Finally, he even jumped barefoot onto Yu Tang’s white sofa. Holding a Zwilling milk pan that Yu Tang had just bought from the supermarket, he stood like a "monument"—looking like someone in the late stages of chuunibyou who, having found no cure, had simply decided to let himself go.
Yu Tang looked up and rolled his eyes at Wei Hanyang, reaching out only for the pot.
"Wei Hanyang, you’re almost thirty."
Wei Hanyang slithered down from the sofa like a loach. "Seriously, Old Yu, don't be shy. What does your big brother do for a living? I am the stabilizing force of the andrology department at the First Affiliated Hospital of A University, a senior friend to women, personally certified by Head Nurse Ms. Li, a professional assistant for non-emotional sexual issues for five years... and, uh..." He mysteriously fished a blue box of Durex out of his pants pocket and thrust it in front of Yu Tang’s eyes. "Take this with you to Chengdu. I guarantee your success in one stroke!"
Yu Tang brushed Wei Hanyang’s hand away with disgust and continued packing his suitcase. "Buy a plane ticket; I’ll take you to Chengdu to get treated."
Wei Hanyang’s face fell, and he sprawled his long legs across the sofa. "See, that’s where you’re unprofessional. Clinical psychologists can’t cure mental cases."
This self-deprecating joke made Yu Tang smile slightly.
Wei Hanyang took the chance to lean in. "If the department hadn't refused my shift swap, there’s no way I’d let you go to Chengdu alone."
After saying this, he smacked his lips regretfully, folded his arms, and curled back into the sofa, looking puzzled. "But then again, you’re a cardiothoracic surgeon. Why were you invited to some psychology forum?"
Yu Tang pushed his packed suitcase to the door and casually straightened the slippers Wei Hanyang had kicked messy. Turning around, he said, "This psychology forum in Chengdu will be discussing uncommon phobias."
The moment Yu Tang mentioned phobias, Wei Hanyang understood.
"I know, that bizarre old problem of yours—ombrophobia."
As he spoke, he instinctively glanced out the window.
"Is the date set for when you leave?"
"The flight is the day after tomorrow, in the afternoon. Sit over a bit."
Wei Hanyang reluctantly shifted his backside.
"So who did you get to cover your shift?"
"Hu Yu."
"Oh..."
Just as he finished speaking, a crack of thunder exploded in the sky.
On this April dusk with a heavy rain approaching, there was a silence outside the glass window that felt like the approach of a blade. It was so oppressive that Wei Hanyang’s words died in his throat; he couldn't keep up his chatter.
However, the quiet only lasted for a few dozen seconds.
Yu Tang had just closed his eyes, intending to rest his mind for a moment, when Wei Hanyang suddenly slapped his thigh and bounced off the sofa. "Old Yu! The Golden Cudgel is only a pillar of heaven when it's in the water. How about you... on a rainy night... hmm!"
He timed a pause and slammed his hands together with a clap. "Do it once! Treat a bizarre illness with a bizarre cure. Maybe you’ll just get better?"
Without opening his eyes, Yu Tang pointed toward the door. "Get out."
Wei Hanyang immediately withered and started acting submissive. "Don't be like that, brother. I'll call you 'brother.' I haven't even eaten yet!"
Yu Tang and Wei Hanyang had known each other for nearly twenty years. Even he couldn't say for sure how Wei Hanyang had gradually developed his current flamboyant style. However, some people try to live seriously but are forced by a theatrical fate to play the fool; others have drama in their DNA from head to toe, joking and arguing with the whole world, yet the moment they step out of an operating room, they start asking which temple is best for becoming a monk. These were things Yu Tang had seen during his rotation in the ER.
No matter where you were playing the fool before, once you strip off your clothes and lie on the operating table, you have to clench your glutes, curl your toes, and tremblingly be a "serious" patient.
Yu Tang gradually realized that the hospital was such a place of polar absurdities.
A bunch of patients forced to be "serious," and a bunch of doctors "ravaged" by those serious patients to the point where they couldn't be serious anywhere. Wei Hanyang had previously rotated through the departments of obstetrics and gynecology as well as urology, often soaking in various honest bodies. Perhaps he had finally lost his mind amidst those unspeakable "human sufferings" and cultivated himself into the "filth king" he was now. But regardless, in an era where being youthful and cheerful is synonymous with physical and mental health, a "silly goose" like Wei Hanyang was always hard to dislike.
Case in point: when the airport security pulled that box of Durex out of Yu Tang’s coat pocket, he wasn't particularly angry—he just felt a bit embarrassed. Seeing the security girl hand the Durex back with a grin, he quickly grabbed it, stuffed it into his pocket, and fled toward the departure lounge with long strides. He thought he looked pathetic, but little did he know that other people's focus wasn't on his disoriented escape at all.
Once he had walked a dozen meters away, the security girl who had found the Durex couldn't help but whisper in admiration to her colleague: "That man's hands... they were incredible."
They truly were incredible.
Starting from the airport, this trip to Chengdu—given its tone by Wei Hanyang’s Durex—never went out of tune in the eyes of others.
After all, it was Chengdu in the spring. Even the usually serious and stern Zhang Chaosheng couldn't resist making a "greasy" middle-aged joke while approving his leave: "Be careful with your health while you're there."
Even though Yu Tang was embarrassed, he didn't know what to explain.
He was going there for treatment.
In the First Affiliated Hospital, no one besides Wei Hanyang knew that his phobia of "rain" had reached a level that interfered with his life. His female colleagues even felt that this hysteria, which sounded somewhat simple-minded, formed a peculiar "gap moe" with his usual rigorous professional demeanor. The tone of their private discussions was something even Wei Hanyang, the self-proclaimed friend of women, couldn't understand.
"I heard Dr. Yu from cardiothoracic was supporting your ER again last night."
"What 'supporting'? The rain was too heavy last night. He stood at the door for ages, not daring to leave, so we just asked him to help out."
"Ah? Dr. Yu is that afraid of rain?"
"Yeah, pretty funny, right?"
"It’s not funny."
"Huh?"
"I think he's actually really cute!"
"...Haha... ha... ha... wow."
When Wei Hanyang recounted these words to Yu Tang, he took the opportunity to be a bit salty.
"With a face that looks that good, you really can get away with anything."
However, Yu Tang couldn't laugh at all.
People in the world are strange and varied; it's not uncommon to find a muscular gym rat who is afraid of fire or dogs. That is all normal. But he happened to be afraid of rain. If it were just being afraid of rain, that would be one thing, but he was so afraid that he didn't dare sleep whenever it rained. A man nearly 1.8 meters tall had to rely on alcohol to close his eyes. Wei Hanyang teased him, saying that while others turn into dragons when they hit water, he turns from a great god into an idiot. The words were a bit poisonous, but thinking about it, they were actually quite apt.
To keep Wei Hanyang's mouth shut in front of their hospital colleagues, Yu Tang had fed him plenty.
Every time he watched Wei Hanyang sitting on his sofa gnawing on his braised ribs, Yu Tang would resolve to cure this problem.
However, after several years of trying, the symptoms had not lessened; instead, they were becoming more severe.
He was a cardiothoracic surgeon. The hand that held the scalpel could absolutely not be controlled by psychiatric medication. That was why he was so desperate to understand the root of this internal illness within himself, to aid his later cognitive therapy.
The reason Yu Tang was going to Chengdu this time was because Zhang Man had told him last month that during the symposium, a foreign psychologist was organizing an informal seminar. They would discuss the various internal and external causes of phobias, and in addition to psychologists, they had invited patients who had long been troubled by various phobias to participate.
Therefore, even though the location was indeed a bit far, Yu Tang decided to take a few days to check it out.
The purpose of this trip was logical and grounded—it couldn't be more serious.
But what kind of city was Chengdu?
Fashion shows in Taikoo Li, gnawing on rabbit heads by Hongxing Road—it was fancy to the point of being gaudy, yet rustic to the point of being smoky.
Accompanied by the rhythmic background music of Wei Hanyang’s WeChat voice message saying "He's coming, he's coming," Yu Tang uncontrollably stepped into a rhythmic pace in this southwestern city.
A person visiting Chengdu for the first time is always dazed by the Mandarin forced out by Chengdu drivers.
But the drivers often don't realize how intoxicating their accents are. In the ten or so minutes from Airport Road to Renmin South Road, the topic managed to swing all the way from guns to the A-share index, finally landing on the melodramatic emotional gossip regarding the driver and his wife. Relying on the patience and good temper inherent to his profession, Yu Tang used the context to guess and speculate, having a dizzying conversation with the driver where everything was "the bull's head not fitting the horse's mouth."
Although he didn't know exactly what they had talked about, by the time the car approached the hotel in the city center, Yu Tang had emptied out all the non-medical knowledge he had stored over the last few years. He felt an unrealistic sensation, as if his brain was sloshing with water.
He just wanted to take a sip of water to calm down, but the driver slammed on the brakes. The mineral water he had just unscrewed splashed all over him. The driver hurriedly pulled out a few tissues and handed them to him. "Oh, sorry, sorry!"
Yu Tang wiped the water off his shirt while looking ahead.
People had already gotten out of their cars and were gathering toward the intersection. The driver rolled down the window and randomly caught a woman, asking, "Hey, big sister, let me ask you, what's going on up there?"
"What's going on? Someone got crushed to death, blood everywhere—oh, it's tragic, truly tragic."
In this dialogue, Yu Tang only understood the words for "dead person." "Excuse me, is it a car accident?"
As he spoke, he got out of the car.
The woman looked back at the tall, thin man and instantly lost interest in the driver.
"Yes, but it's better if you don't go look, handsome. It's a bit sc..."
Before she could finish, the "handsome guy" had already squeezed into the crowd.
The woman and the driver stared at each other. The driver rubbed his nose. "Well, people from out of town really like to watch the excitement nowadays."
The woman turned to look at the crowd, her eyes a bit lonely. "Men from out of town—they really are tall."
Hearing this, the driver hit the steering wheel in exasperation and pulled his head back into the car.
The world was just that surreal.
Yu Tang squeezed out of the crowd and saw a man lying on the ground with a face full of blood. The female driver responsible was crying from fright, constantly explaining to those around her, "It wasn't me who hit him; he suddenly rushed out himself. I... I didn't hit him, I didn't hit him!"
There was also another woman kneeling beside the man, trying to straighten his twisted neck. She looked much calmer than the female driver.
"Step aside first, let me look."
Yu Tang’s words were direct, bypassing politeness, but the woman keenly grasped his profession from his tone.
"Are you a doctor?"
"Yes."
Hearing Yu Tang’s reply, she quickly stood up and moved to the side. Turning around, she pushed the onlookers who were crowding in back two steps, shouting in Sichuanese, "Everyone move back! Don't get in the way of saving people!"
Yu Tang knelt and quickly checked the injured person's basic condition. The victim was basically conscious and could still make sounds.
However, there was a severe rib fracture resulting in an open pneumothorax, making breathing extremely difficult for the victim.
Yu Tang lifted the victim's clothes and found the chest wall wound. Lacking any tools at hand, he could only use his hand to temporarily seal the wound. He looked up and shouted to the woman, "Did you call 120?"
"I did."
Yu Tang glanced at the vehicles on the road. Because of the accident, the intersection was heavily congested. With the evening rush hour approaching, it would certainly be difficult for an ambulance to get in. While the wound was temporarily sealed, if a closed chest drainage wasn't performed soon, it would lead to shock. Yu Tang knelt down, changing to a position that saved more energy. He looked up, about to speak, only to see that the woman had already decisively rushed into the traffic lanes in her high heels. "If you can drive, move! Make way for the ambulance!"
Under her precise guidance, a gap was quickly torn through the traffic lanes. A few minutes later, the ambulance arrived at the scene.
Pre-hospital emergency care followed immediately. Yu Tang briefly explained the results of his initial inspection to the emergency personnel. With his hands covered in blood, he retreated to the roadside. Only then did he suddenly remember that he was an out-of-towner who didn't speak the language, and all his belongings were in that taxi from just now. The intersection was currently experiencing the peak of the evening rush; it was jammed everywhere, and that taxi was nowhere to be found.
Yu Tang closed his eyes.
Great.
He had brought back someone God didn't want. Was God unhappy, so He gave him a kick?
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