He was a disabled military officer who doted on his research work in the Northwest.

Her face turned deathly pale instantly. She recalled—she hadn't touched the old man's hand at all. What she saw was a flushed face and sweating, and with everyone shouting about heatstroke, she made the same judgment without thinking.

"His flushed face isn't from the heat, it's from the pain." As she spoke, she quickly unbuttoned the old man's collar, helping him lie on his back to breathe freely. At the same time, she firmly pinched his Neiguan and Tanzhong acupoints. "People suffering from heatstroke have burning skin, soaring body temperature, and are sweating profusely. But look at him—his hands and feet are ice-cold, his lips are cyanotic, and he's clutching his chest tightly—this is an angina attack! Coronary artery spasm is causing insufficient blood supply to the heart, resulting in poor peripheral circulation, which is why his limbs are cold and he's sweating profusely!"

"If we had taken him to the internal medicine department as you suggested, it would have delayed him by three to five minutes. If the angina had worsened into a myocardial infarction, he would have died!" Shen Tang's voice was as cold as a knife. "Did he have nitroglycerin on him?"

The young military wife trembled with fear, frantically rummaging through the old man's pockets for a long time before finally pulling out a small medicine bottle. Her voice trembling, she said, "Yes! Yes! Dad has a heart condition, he always carries it with him!"

Shen Tang took the medicine bottle, poured out a nitroglycerin tablet, and placed it under the old man's tongue. At the same time, her other thumb landed on the old man's Neiguan acupoint, pressing it steadily—this acupoint can relieve chest tightness and heart spasms, and is a common method in traditional Chinese medicine for emergency treatment of angina.

About half a minute later, the old man gradually loosened his grip on his chest. His tightly furrowed brows slowly relaxed, his cyanotic lips began to regain color, and his breathing changed from rapid to steady.

"Dad! Dad, are you feeling better?" The military wife rushed over, crying and laughing at the same time.

The old man weakly opened his eyes and nodded.

Just then, Dr. Chen rushed down from upstairs with two nurses, carrying a first-aid kit. When he saw Shen Tang kneeling on the ground pressing acupoints and the old man's gradually calming expression, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"What happened?"

The family members nearby recounted what had happened in a flurry of voices—the old man suddenly collapsed, Bai Wei said it was heatstroke and he should be taken to the internal medicine department, Shen Tang said it was angina and he should go directly to the emergency room, and finally Shen Tang gave the old man nitroglycerin, and he recovered.

Dr. Chen crouched down and quickly checked the old man's pupils, pulse, and blood pressure. After confirming that the angina attack had subsided, he stood up, gave Shen Tang a deep look, and then turned to Bai Wei.

"Bai Wei." His tone wasn't angry, but something far more unsettling—disappointment. "You should have learned how to differentiate between angina and heatstroke in school. I know the situation can be misleading—everyone's shouting about heatstroke under the blazing sun. But as a trained medical professional, before making a diagnosis, you should at least perform a basic physical examination: check the patient's skin temperature, look at their lips, and observe for signs of chest pain. You don't need any equipment; all you need is three seconds of calm."

Bai Wei stood there, her lips trembling, unable to speak.

"If we had really done as you said and given him Huoxiang Zhengqi Water and applied a cool towel to his wound..." Doctor Chen shook his head, not mentioning the worst possible consequences, but everyone understood.

The crowd of onlookers was in an uproar.

"Isn't this the nurse who mixed up the IV bag last time? Why is it her again?"

"Thank goodness that girl was there! Otherwise, the old man might have been..."

"They're not doctors or nurses, how come their reactions are faster than professionals? Amazing!"

"That's Shen Tang! The one who saved Company Commander Zhao's wife on the bus before! This is the second time!"

Dr. Chen directed the nurses to lift the elderly man onto a stretcher and take him to the emergency room for observation. Before leaving, he patted Shen Tang on the shoulder and nodded solemnly: "Very well handled. Quick reaction, accurate judgment, and skillful technique."

Shen Tang stood up, brushed the dust off her knees, and said, "I just happened to be there."

Bai Wei stood rooted to the spot, the whispers of those around her like countless needles pricking her skin. Her face flushed red and paled in turns, and her whole body trembled uncontrollably—not from fear, but from the profound humiliation she felt.

She had studied the differential diagnosis of angina and heatstroke; she was a nurse who had graduated from a proper nursing school.

I was already humiliated on the train, and now, in front of everyone, at my own workplace, I'm being trampled underfoot by this "country bumpkin."

Bai Wei clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her flesh, almost drawing blood. She turned abruptly, covered her face, and rushed into the hospital building.

……

In the second-floor ward, Mu Qinghan leaned against the window, able to see everything that was happening downstairs clearly.

From the moment Shen Tang dropped her lunchbox and rushed into the crowd, his gaze never left her.

He saw her kneeling on the scorching cement ground, and saw her touching the old man's hand and checking his eyelids the moment everyone was certain he had "heatstroke"—without the slightest hesitation, and without being swayed by anyone's voice.

Mu Qinghan has seen countless people, but those who can maintain independent judgment amidst the noise on the battlefield, in the command post, and in life-or-death situations are one in a million.

She was just an eighteen-year-old girl from the countryside who claimed to have "learned a little bit of traditional Chinese medicine from an old Chinese doctor."

Mu Qinghan realized that her gaze was following her.

Only after the crowd downstairs dispersed did Shen Tang stand up, dust off his knees, take the insulated lunchbox back from someone, and walk back towards the inpatient building. Only then did he look away, pick up the magazine on his bedside table, and casually flip to a page.

But he couldn't decipher a single word of what was printed on that page.

All I could see in my mind was the image of her kneeling on the ground, the sunlight outlining the lines of her shoulders and arms.

A few minutes later, the ward door was pushed open.

Shen Tang walked in carrying a lunchbox. There was some dust on the knees of her shirt, her braids were a little loose, and a few strands of hair clung to her slightly sweaty temples.

"I'm late, I was delayed on the way." She placed the lunchbox on the bedside table, and as usual, she unscrewed the lid, and a fragrant steam rose up.

Mu Qinghan stared at the magazine, turned a page, and said calmly, "I saw it."

Shen Tang paused, then looked up at him.

Mu Qinghan's gaze swept over the magazine, landed on the dust on her knees, then moved to the fine beads of sweat on her forehead, and finally settled on her calm eyes, which didn't seem like she had just gone through an emergency.

"You did the right thing," he said.

Only four words, spoken in a cold tone, with an indifferent expression.

Shen Tang raised an eyebrow, said nothing, and began to set out the food for him.

Mu Qinghan took the spoon and took a sip of today's lotus seed and lily bulb porridge. The taste was as good as ever—mild and sweet, melting in her mouth, making her stomach feel as comfortable as if a gentle hand had smoothed out all the wrinkles.

He ate his porridge with his eyes downcast, then suddenly spoke: "Your household registration is being processed by the logistics department. It should be finalized by next week at the latest. Once it's settled, I've had Chen Zhiyuan make arrangements with the affiliated high school; you can transfer in anytime."

Shen Tang looked up abruptly, her eyes lighting up: "Really? So fast?"