The next morning, when Xie Quan woke up, he felt like his head was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. The pain from all directions nearly took his breath away.
There was no one in the hotel room. If it weren’t for the opened box of stomach medicine on the nightstand, everything from last night would have felt like a dream.
He leaned against the headboard, waiting for the initial dizzying sensation to pass.
He had drunk far too much last night. Although he still had some hazy memories, the details were all a blur.
The only thing he could vaguely remember was being surrounded by a group of thugs outside a bar, then meeting Lu Nanyang, who brought him back to the hotel and even bought him stomach medicine.
But everything in between, the things they said—he had forgotten all of it.
Xie Quan pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to alleviate the pain.
All these years, he had never been drunk. He had no idea how he would react when intoxicated, nor what kind of behavior he would display.
Did he cause a scene in front of Lu Nanyang? …And speaking of which, how did Lu Nanyang even find him? He couldn’t have said anything weird, could he?
The more he thought about it, the worse his headache became.
It seemed that ever since meeting Lu Nanyang, everything had slowly slipped out of his control, one thing after another.
But Lu Nanyang still brought him back to the hotel… Did this mean…?
Xie Quan gritted his teeth, enduring the pain, and reached for his phone on the bedside. He opened WeChat and saw the conversation with “Xiang Nanyang” still showing that bright red exclamation mark.
He tossed his phone aside and lay back on the bed.
Nothing happened.
How ridiculous. What did he think would happen?
It was just a coincidence. Lu Nanyang happened to run into him when he was drunk and, due to his damn savior complex, helped him.
That’s all. Nothing more.
There won’t be anything more.
Xie Quan closed his eyes, his heart aching uncontrollably. His chest felt heavy, and no matter how he breathed, there was always that suffocating feeling.
Then he suddenly realized—after 24 hours without a single dose of Diazepam, he, who was highly dependent on medication, was starting to feel it.
….
Knowing that a prescription drug like this, classified as a controlled substance, wouldn’t be sold in regular pharmacies, Xie Quan still futilely visited several places, only to be told by every store clerk that they didn’t have it.
“This kind of medication is strictly controlled. You can only get it from a hospital,” the clerk said kindly. “Are you having trouble sleeping? We have a lot of sleep aids, like Yiqi Anshen pills, Suanzaoren liquid… We also have melatonin. Would you like to take a look?”
“No, I’m…” Xie Quan paused, deciding not to say more. “Thanks, I’ll take a look elsewhere.”
As he was about to leave the pharmacy, the clerk called out, “If it’s a psychological issue, make sure to see a doctor at the hospital!”
Xie Quan quickened his pace and left.
The frustration coiled tightly around his chest like a constricting snake, his heart racing without rest, yet his hands and feet felt as cold as ice.
…If only it were as simple as going to the hospital.
Because of his specialty, almost all the doctors in Yuncheng City’s hospitals knew who he was. If he went to get psychiatric medication, the entire university would know within three days that he had a mental illness.
The rumors about his previous addiction to medication would likely resurface as well.
If he weren’t at his breaking point, he would never consider this option.
Forget it, Xie Quan closed his eyes. There were still a few days before he left school, so he should have enough time to find someone else to help him.
It’s just a few days without taking medicine, right?
It’s no big deal.
As a medical student, he knew the dangers of psychiatric drugs to the human body. Even without Lu Nanyang, he would eventually quit the medication.
Even without Lu Nanyang.
……
But things rarely go as smoothly as one hopes.
Monday was the busiest day in any hospital. People were coming in non-stop for consultations, and surgeries were scheduled from morning to night.
When there weren’t enough staff, university interns like them were treated like bricks, moved to wherever help was needed. Xie Quan was first assigned to assist in the operating room, standing for several hours. Just as he was leaving the operating room, a nurse called him over.
“Dr. Xie! It’s bad, you should go check it out, there’s a disturbance in the internal medicine department!”
In reality, he was just an intern and had no right to be called “doctor,” but after working these past few days, Xie Quan had become proficient and focused, never making a mistake. He even had the time to guide other interns and keep everything in order. He didn’t know exactly when, but at some point, even the nurses began respectfully calling him “Dr. Xie.”
“Internal medicine? What’s going on?” Xie Quan didn’t even have time to take off his mask, washing his hands as he asked.
“There’s someone causing a scene. Dr. Qiu from the outpatient department went to the wards, and the one filling in, Xiao Chen, can’t handle it! You should go take a look!”
Xiao Chen was an intern from Xie Quan’s year, a serious and introverted boy. He wasn’t well-suited to handle disruptive patients.
Xie Quan dried his hands quickly and rushed toward the internal medicine department. Before he even reached the door, he heard a loud voice shouting.
“Can’t you hear that I have a fever? Is this not a hospital? Why isn’t anyone treating me?”
Outside the internal medicine consultation room, a crowd had gathered, craning their necks to watch the commotion.
Xie Quan frowned deeply and squeezed through the patients to enter the room.
Inside, a balding man in his forties was standing at the desk, yelling and slapping the surface with his palm. Xiao Chen stood behind the desk, still holding a pen, his face flushed red.
“I’ve already explained to you—there’s no need to administer antipyretic injections unless the fever exceeds 38 degrees…”
“Then do I have a fever or not?” the man raised his voice. “Is 37.5 not a fever? You won’t treat me even when I have a fever? What kind of hospital is this? I’m going to file a complaint against you all!”
Xiao Chen was clearly struggling to contain his own temper. “Filing a complaint won’t change the fact. These are hospital regulations. All medication is potentially harmful—we follow strict protocols when it comes to administering drugs and injections…”
“Bullshit regulations! I’ve always been treated this way before! Why is it different here?” the man’s anger surged. “Who’s in charge here? Who’s the hospital director? Call the director! And for your information, my brother works in the municipal health department—he oversees negligent quacks like you!”
Xiao Chen’s face turned blue, then purple, clearly on the verge of exploding.
It was a Monday—the busiest day at any hospital. This senseless argument showed no signs of stopping, and several patients in line were already growing impatient.
“Is this ever going to end?”
“Are we still going to be seen this morning?”
Xie Quan quickly stepped around a patient blocking his way and approached the man. “Excuse me, sir—are you running a fever?”
The man immediately redirected his fury at Xie Quan. “Yes, I have a fever and want an injection! What’s wrong with that? What kind of doctors are you people—do you even know the meaning of saving lives?”
Instead of getting angry, Xie Quan gave him a gentle smile. “Apologies for the delay. If you’re looking for an injection, please head this way to the injection room.”
“Xie Quan!” Xiao Chen exclaimed in panic. “The hospital has rules—we can’t just—”
Xie Quan frowned and made a “shh” gesture.
His usual demeanor was already cold and reserved. When he didn’t smile, the pair of narrow, gray eyes behind his glasses looked especially sharp. Xiao Chen instinctively complied.
Xie Quan then led the man out of the internal medicine room, whispered something to a nearby nurse, and the nurse nodded and led the man toward the injection room.
The onlookers continued to watch curiously, but soon after, Xie Quan returned. He politely apologized to each patient waiting outside the consultation room, explaining that they could now proceed with their appointments. Within a minute, the crowd was dispersed.
Just then, the doctor in charge of internal medicine returned from the ward, smoothly took over from Xiao Chen, and just like that, a small commotion was resolved quietly.
But Xiao Chen was still uneasy. He found a moment to tug at Xie Quan’s sleeve. “Why did you take him for an injection? That’s against the rules! If Dr. Li and the others find out…”
“I had the nurse give him a saline shot,” Xie Quan replied calmly, gently removing Xiao Chen’s hand.
Xiao Chen blinked, stunned.
“People like that won’t listen to reason. If logic worked, we wouldn’t have so many hospital disputes,” Xie Quan said. “The best way is to adapt—keep them happy without breaking the rules. All he wanted was a shot, so we gave him one. What’s in the syringe doesn’t matter.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a patient came over with her report and started asking questions. Xie Quan immediately put on a professional smile and began explaining in detail.
Xiao Chen stood to the side, watching Xie Quan calmly and clearly walk the patient through everything, a bit dazed.
Everyone said Xie Quan was the pride of Yuncheng University’s medical school, but this was the first time Xiao Chen truly felt it.
So this is what it means to be a perfect student—not only excelling academically but also being so skilled at handling real life situations. Someone far beyond his reach.
“Dr. Xie, can I talk to you about something—” Just as Xiao Chen mustered up the courage to speak, Xie Quan, who had been smiling and speaking to the patient just a moment ago, suddenly swayed and fell to the side.
Startled, Xiao Chen reached out to catch him, but Xie Quan avoided his hand, instead bracing himself against the wall, head down and gasping for breath.
“Dr. Xie, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just need to sit for a moment,” Xie Quan replied softly.
“Are you overworked? Maybe you should take some time off and rest—”
“Can you please leave me alone for a bit?” Xie Quan suddenly raised his voice, startling Xiao Chen and drawing curious glances from nearby patients.
Realizing he’d lost control, Xie Quan forced down his irritation and gave a stiff smile. “I just need to rest by myself for a bit. Go ahead and take care of your tasks, alright?”
“O-okay…” Xiao Chen didn’t dare linger and hurried off.
During the first three days without diazepam, Xie Quan barely managed to hold on.
He forced himself to focus entirely on his internship and schoolwork, working over ten hours a day. But starting on the fourth day, the withdrawal symptoms clung to him like thorny vines.
He began suffering from insomnia, heart palpitations, and chest tightness like he was suffocating on cotton. His body was constantly fatigued, and even a little food would make him nauseous.
Still, he had to keep up the appearance of a calm, perfect professional in the hospital and in front of others. In truth, the persistent negative emotions and pain were slowly suffocating him.
Just a few more days. Just hang on a little longer, he told himself.
In the middle of the noisy hospital environment, his phone started ringing. It wasn’t until the third ring that he noticed.
He struggled to open his eyes and pulled out his phone. When he saw the caller ID, he froze.
