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

Chen Ping rode his bicycle back the way he came.

As the sky grew brighter, the eastern mountain peaks were tinged with a pale red, as if they had been smeared with rouge.

There was no one on the mountain road, only his own shadow dragging on the ground, one long and one short, following the wheels of the car.

The grass by the roadside was covered with dewdrops. As the car wheel rolled over it, the dewdrops splashed up and soaked his trouser legs.

He wasn't riding fast; his injuries made him unable to exert any strength, and he dared not use his left arm, so he could only support himself with his right arm.

My back aches with every bounce, like someone is pricking me with needles.

His head was the most troublesome part. When he looked down, the wound would pull and hurt, and when he looked up, his temples would throb. He could only stiffen his neck and stare intently at the road ahead.

After walking for about forty minutes, the outline of Siping Township came into view.

There were already people on the street. An old man selling vegetables was setting up his stall, two people were queuing in front of the tofu stall, and Sister Zhang from the barbershop was sweeping the floor in front of the shop.

Everything is the same as yesterday, yet different from yesterday.

The gauze on his head was so conspicuous that passersby would glance at him. Someone recognized him and called out "Dr. Chen," to which he responded without stopping.

The health center's gate was open, and the courtyard was damp and glistening with water.

He had just turned in when he saw Cui Ying.

She stood at the corner between the front and back yards, holding her phone in her hand, her hair loose and falling over her shoulders.

He had no makeup on his face, and there were two dark circles under his eyes, as if he had been punched twice.

She was wearing a light blue shirt, one button fastened incorrectly, and the collar was uneven, neither of them aware of it, nor had anyone told her.

The moment she saw Chen Ping, she froze, standing there motionless.

My eyes were fixed on him, from his face to his head, from his head to his shoulders, and from his shoulders to his whole body.

She saw the gauze on his forehead, so white it was almost blinding, with bloodstains seeping out.

This scene brought tears to Cui Ying's eyes.

Then she ran over, so fast she almost tripped.

She ran up to Chen Ping, stopped, and reached out to touch his face. She pulled her hand back halfway, then reached it out again, and pulled it back again.

Her hands were trembling, her lips were trembling, and her eyes were so red they looked like they were about to bleed.

"You..." Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat, then her voice became hoarse again. "What's wrong with you?"

"It's nothing," Chen Ping smiled. "Just a superficial wound."

"A superficial wound?" Cui Ying's voice suddenly rose, loud enough for the entire courtyard to hear. "You have bandages wrapped around your head and are covered in blood, and you're telling me it's a superficial wound?"

Chen Ping looked at her, at her red eyes, and felt a pang in his heart.

It wasn't pain, it was a soreness, so soreness that his eyes welled up with tears.

"You didn't sleep all night?" Chen Ping asked.

Cui Ying did not answer this question.

She bit her lip, forcing back her tears, took a deep breath, and lowered her voice, which was still trembling: "I can't get through to you on the phone. I've tried all night. I've called dozens of times, and every time it says 'cannot be connected.'"

I don't know how you are, I don't know what happened to you, I don't know if you'll come back.

As she spoke, her voice rose again, not from anger, but from grievance, fear, and the pent-up dread of a night finally finding an outlet.

"I wanted to come find you, but I don't know where Sunjiagou is, and there are no taxis here. I can't go by myself. I have no other choice but to wait here, standing here waiting, all night long."

Chen Ping opened his mouth, wanting to explain something, but Cui Ying didn't give him the chance.

"Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you tell me?" Cui Ying's tears finally fell, streaming down her cheeks. "Do you know how worried I was?"

The courtyard was quiet.

The wind stopped blowing, the leaves stopped rustling, and even the old hen stopped clucking.

Chen Ping stood next to the bicycle, and Cui Ying stood in front of him. The two were less than a meter apart, but that meter felt like a river.

Chen Ping propped up his bicycle and took a step forward.

Cui Ying didn't retreat or move; she just stood there, tears still streaming down her face.

Chen Ping reached out, hesitated for a moment, then placed his hand on her shoulder and patted it gently.

"I'm sorry," Chen Ping said softly. "My phone is broken, I can't get through. I'm fine, really."

Cui Ying lowered her head, her shoulders trembling, and cried for a while before raising her head to wipe her face with her sleeve, drying her tears, but her eyes were still red.

"Who hit you on the head?"

Chen Ping hesitated for a moment, but still told the truth: "Ma Hu, he brought a group of people and ambushed me at Zhao Dezhu's house."

Cui Ying's face paled: "Careless? Which casino?"

"Um."

How many people?

"A dozen or so."

"You took on more than a dozen people by yourself?" Cui Ying's voice rose again.

Chen Ping didn't answer, but his expression said it all.

Cui Ying lowered her head, looking at the bloodstains on Chen Ping's body, at his wrinkled, torn, mud- and dirt-covered clothes. She looked at them for a long time before raising her head, her voice as soft as the wind.

"Does it hurt?"

Chen Ping paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "A little."

Cui Ying bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes again.

She took a deep breath, held it in her chest for a while, and then slowly exhaled.

"Come on, let's go inside, I'll change your dressing."

She turned and walked forward quickly, her ponytail swaying on her shoulder.

Chen Ping pushed his bicycle behind her, parked it at the entrance of the clinic, and followed Cui Ying into the clinic carrying the bag of eggs and mushrooms that Sun Xiuying had given him.

Cui Ying opened the first-aid kit and took out iodine, cotton swabs, gauze, and adhesive tape, placing them one by one on the table.

She asked Chen Ping to sit down, then stood in front of him and reached out to remove the gauze from his forehead.

Her hands were very light, but still trembling, as she untied the gauze, circle by circle. When she got to the last few circles, the gauze was stuck to her skin by blood and she couldn't pull it off.

She didn't dare to use force, so she soaked it in iodine solution, waited a while, and then gently peeled it off.

The wound is now visible.

It required three stitches, and the thread ends are still there. The stitches aren't very neat, but the wound is closed well. There's no inflammation, and the area around it is a little red and swollen, but it's not serious.

"Who sewed it?" Cui Ying asked.

"Sister Sun."

"The stitching is alright."

Cui Ying dipped a cotton swab in iodine and wiped around the wound, then changed the gauze and re-bandaged it.

After she finished her work, she put the things into the first-aid kit and stood in front of Chen Ping, looking at him.

"Where else are you injured?"

"Shoulders, back, thighs."

"Take off your clothes."

Chen Ping paused for a moment, then looked at Cui Ying.

Cui Ying blushed, but didn't flinch. She stared straight at him, as if to say, "If you don't take it off, I'll take it off for you."

Chen Ping took off his T-shirt.

A large bruise, bluish-purple in color, covered my shoulder, spreading from my shoulder all the way to my collarbone, like a bottle of ink had been spilled on it.

There were several patches on his back, one on his ribs and two on his waist, with varying shades of color, some bluish, some purplish, and some already dark red.

Cui Ying looked at the wounds, her lips turning white from biting them.

She didn't say anything, but took a cotton swab, dipped it in iodine, and gently wiped each bruise, as if afraid of breaking something.

After wiping, she stepped back and threw the cotton swab into the trash can.

"Anything else?"

"thigh."

Cui Ying blushed again, but she didn't hesitate. She squatted down and rolled up Chen Ping's trouser leg.

My knee was scraped, a thin scab had formed, and there was a large bruise around it.

She wiped it with iodine, stood up, put the things away, and closed the lid of the first-aid kit.

"alright."

After she finished speaking those two words, she turned around, her back to Chen Ping, and her shoulders began to tremble again.