Sent to the countryside, I turned the health center into a top-tier hospital.

"Old boss, you've worked hard, I salute you..."

Chen Ping picked up his wine glass and downed it in one gulp.

After finishing his drink, Old Song paused, looked at Chen Ping, and said, "You young man are different from others."

"Why is it different?"

"When others meet me, they either bow and speak to me or want me to do them a favor. But you, you've been drinking and eating with me at the same table, and you haven't uttered a single word of request."

Chen Ping put down the cup, thought for a moment, and said, "I also have times when I need to ask for help."

Tell me about it?

"I plan to build a youth mental health center on that plot of land in the backyard of the health center. The formal approval process is still underway, but I've already started construction. You've worked in the provincial government before, so you know more about the policies than I do. Once it's built and the paperwork is complete, could you please check it for me and make sure I don't cross any red lines?" Chen Ping said.

Old Song picked up his wine glass and clinked it against Chen Ping's with a crisp sound. "Is this a big deal?"

Old Song laughed. In his eyes, this was no big deal at all. Although he was retired, he could handle such trivial matters simply by talking to his driver.

"Old Song, although it's not a big deal, it could be difficult to handle if someone causes trouble," Chen Ping said with a smile.

Old Song smiled and said nothing more.

The two of them drank until after 9 p.m.

Old Zhou served and cleared away dishes in rounds, and beer bottles lined up in a small row at the foot of the table.

Old Song's face was flushed from drinking, but he was actually more energetic than when he arrived.

Chen Ping, on the other hand, became increasingly quiet as the drinking progressed. He listened to Old Song recount the eras and stories that he had never experienced, occasionally nodding and clinking glasses with him.

When the event ended, Mr. Song took out his phone from his pocket and asked Chen Ping to scan his WeChat QR code.

Chen Ping scanned the QR code, and a profile picture popped up on his phone. It was an old black and white photo. In the photo, Old Song was wearing a military uniform, as thin as a knife, but his eyes were frighteningly bright.

"Dr. Chen, if there's anything you need in the future, don't wait for me to speak, just tell me directly."

Old Song put his phone in his pocket and stood up unsteadily.

Chen Ping quickly helped Old Song up and then escorted him to the door.

"I haven't had such a good drink in a long time. I enjoyed drinking with you today. Let's drink again when we have the chance." Old Song held Chen Ping's hand, his words becoming somewhat slurred.

It was obvious that Old Song had drunk too much, and Chen Ping was also feeling unwell; he had drunk quite a bit, but not to the point of being drunk.

"Mr. Song, I'll be waiting for you anytime!"

Chen Ping helped Old Song into the car, watched the taillights of the black Audi turn the corner, and then turned back.

There were hardly any people on the street anymore. A few streetlights were on, casting a dim, yellowish glow that stretched his shadow long.

He staggered back to the clinic. Remembering that he still needed to change Cui Ying's dressing, Chen Ping went to the clinic to get his medical kit and headed towards the dormitory in the backyard!

Chen Ping staggered to the backyard. A cool breeze blew, and the effects of the alcohol surged up, making his feet feel like they were walking on cotton.

He stood at the door of Cui Ying's dormitory for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and then raised his hand to knock on the door.

The door opened, and Cui Ying appeared, wearing a loose floral loungewear set with her hair draped over her shoulders.

When she saw Chen Ping and smelled the strong odor of alcohol on him, she frowned slightly and reached out to support his arm. "How much did you drink?"

"Not much, let's change the dressing."

Chen Ping placed the medicine box on the bedside table. His voice was more muffled than usual, and his tongue sounded a little stiff.

Zhou Xiaohe was hunched over her desk flipping through a comic book when she looked up at Chen Ping, her eyes darting around. She closed the comic book, jumped off her chair, and said, "Sister Cui Ying, I'm going outside to cool off for a bit."

Without waiting for Cui Ying's reply, he dashed out, closing the door tightly behind him.

Cui Ying looked at the door that was quickly closed, sighed softly, and turned to look at Chen Ping.

Chen Ping had already opened the medicine box and was taking out iodine, cotton swabs, gauze, and tape one by one, his hands trembling slightly.

"Have a sip of water first."

Cui Ying didn't rush to take off her clothes. She first picked up her mug, which contained warm water, from the bedside table and handed it to Chen Ping.

Chen Ping took the cup, drank a couple of sips, put it down, and looked up at her.

"Change the dressing," he repeated.

"You've drunk so much, why don't we change it tomorrow?" Cui Ying said.

"No, that will make the wound more susceptible to infection. Take it off quickly..." Chen Ping's words were harsh, as if he were giving an order.

Cui Ying looked at him for two seconds, then turned around and faced away from him, unbuttoning her pajamas one button at a time.

The clothes slipped off her shoulders, revealing a light pink bra underneath.

She lay face down on the bed, her face turned to the side and resting on her arm, the bandages on her back glaringly white under the light.

Chen Ping sat down on the edge of the bed. When his fingers touched her back, his fingertips were slightly cool, and Cui Ying's shoulders trembled slightly.

He peeled off the old dressing layer by layer. The wound was healing better than yesterday. Scabs had begun to form around the sutures, and pink new skin was growing inward from the edge of the wound.

He dipped a cotton swab in iodine and applied it in circles from the center of the wound outwards.

His breathing was heavy, carrying the smell of alcohol, and it was hot against her back.

Cui Ying lay there motionless, biting her lip and remaining silent.

The cotton swab moved slowly across the wound; his hand was more careful than usual, but his fingertips lingered longer than usual.

After applying the last layer of ointment to the wound, he threw the cotton swab into the trash can, but instead of immediately applying a dressing as usual, he remained silent for several seconds.

Then Cui Ying felt his fingers land on her back.

It wasn't about applying medicine or examining her; it was simply about gently placing my palm on her back and slowly sliding it down along the contours of her shoulder blades.

Her heart suddenly raced, and her entire back tensed up.

"Chen Ping?" Her voice was soft, with a hint of uncertainty.

There was no response from behind, only increasingly heavy breathing.

Cui Ying tried to prop herself up, but his hand had already left her back and landed on her shoulder, gently pressing her back to the spot.

Then, he pressed his body against hers, his chest against her shoulder blades, his burning body heat penetrating the thin fabric and searing her back.

His face was buried in the hair at the back of her neck, his breath hot and rapid, spraying behind her ears with a strong smell of beer.

Cui Ying's mind went blank, as if something had exploded.

She instinctively struggled, bracing herself on the bed to turn over, but he pressed down even tighter, one hand sliding down from her shoulder to wrap around her waist, while the other hand reached forward to tear at the buttons of her loungewear.

One button popped open, bouncing under the bed and rolling around a few times, then the second, and the third.

Cui Ying gripped the bedsheet tightly, her heart pounding as if it would jump out of her throat.

Her body was trembling.