But now, I was very calm.

Well, after experiencing so much, I was no longer that little girl.

My gaze shifted past him, landing on a stretcher being carried away in the distance.

The autistic child named Ayu was clutching a pencil in his hand, his face streaked with dirt, but he was alive.

He was the child I had run back to save.

My tense shoulders finally relaxed by an inch.

The nurse noticed Ethan’s hand was still dripping blood and then looked at me, unable to help but ask: "Dr. Ethan, do you know Teacher Clara?"

Ethan’s fists were tightly clenched.

Know her?

She was the only person he had ever loved in his life.

She was the person he owed the most to.

She was the person he had missed every single day for two whole years, the one he had fantasized about reuniting with countless times.

However, I simply said indifferently: "Yes, university classmates."

University classmates—so indifferent, so light and casual.

It was as if I really didn't care anymore.

About everything in the past.

A lump formed in Ethan’s throat.

"Clara, are you... are you okay? Is there anything else that’s uncomfortable? I’ll give you a thorough examination."

I looked up at him and said coldly: "No need."

"Dr. Ethan, there are many patients who need treatment more urgently than me. You should go get busy."

Wails filled the air all around.

Ethan felt a wave of bitterness in his chest.

He suddenly remembered what Clara had said while reading a novel in the past: "Ethan, do you know why all novels about long-lost reunions are so melodramatic? Why they can keep dragging on and on?"

Back then, he had shaken his head and said he didn't know.

This was how she had answered.

"Because they still love each other. If they really didn't care anymore, even if they reunited, they would only offer a cold greeting and then be prepared to never meet again."

And I—my attitude toward him just now was exactly that.

Chapter 13

The nurse pushed the stretcher toward the temporary medical tent, the wheels creaking over the gravel road.

Ethan stood rooted to the spot, his hand still dripping blood, his feet feeling as if they were nailed into the ruins.

Someone nearby called him: "Dr. Ethan, there’s a critical patient here who needs attention!"

He responded and turned to walk in the opposite direction.

He walked two steps and then stopped, looking back at the direction the stretcher had disappeared.

I did not look back.

The tent was filled with the smell of disinfectant and blood.

I was placed in the bed closest to the back, my left arm splinted and hanging across my chest, with gauze over the wound on my forehead.

It was two hours later by the time Ethan finished treating three critically injured patients.

He washed his hands and stood outside the tent for a long time before finally lifting the curtain and walking in.

Injured people were lying every which way in the tent.

He stopped beside the innermost bed.

When the female teacher from earlier saw Ethan arrive, she sensibly took a step back.

"Dr. Ethan, are you here to see Teacher Clara?"

She leaned in, gossiping, "Dr. Ethan, I asked Teacher Clara earlier, but she wouldn't say anything."

"You two can't just be university classmates, right? Tell me, what is your relationship exactly?"

My hand, which had been scrolling through my phone, paused for a second.

Then, I said in a cold voice: "Teacher Zhang, if you ask again, I’m going to have to ask Officer Zhao how far your blind date has progressed."

Teacher Zhang chuckled: "I was just trying to break the tension. You two talk."

Ethan sat on a low stool, looking at the side of my face.

I had lost a lot of weight; my cheekbones were more defined than before.

I used to have a little bit of baby fat, and when I laughed, my cheeks would puff out, which he had always loved to pinch.

"Your left arm is a simple fracture; you can remove the splint after four weeks of immobilization. I put five stitches in your forehead, and if you change the dressing on time, it won't leave a scar. Keep an eye out for dizziness or vomiting over the next two days."

After listening, I nodded: "Thank you, Dr. Ethan, I understand."

I called out to Teacher Zhang, who was about to leave.

"Teacher Zhang, could you help me check where Teacher He is? He told me earlier that he wanted to compile a report on the disaster situation of the students' families."

Teacher Zhang nodded: "You got it."

Ethan unconsciously rubbed his fingers together.

Just as he was about to say sorry, he heard me say:

"Dr. Ethan, if there is nothing else, please go and attend to your work."

Ethan paused and finally spoke.

"Clara, I know that whatever I say is too late, but I still want to say I’m sorry."

I’m sorry for not choosing to believe you and for leaving you during your hardest times.

I’m sorry that my father did such hurtful things to you while I was completely in the dark.

I am truly sorry.

However, I only looked up at him.

Silence—a long, drawn-out silence.

Just as he was about to continue, the tent curtain was lifted.

The man who entered had a slender build, wearing a dark gray windbreaker stained with mud, the zipper pulled up to his jaw.

He had a handsome appearance and cool, aloof features.

He possessed a quality of being untainted by the world.

"Teacher Clara, I have already compiled the disaster information. You should focus on healing."

"Is there anything else uncomfortable? If you feel anything wrong, tell the doctor immediately."

I nodded and smiled: "Okay."

Teacher Zhang followed in behind him.

She laughed and teased: "Teacher Clara, you don't even know that as soon as Teacher He heard about the earthquake, he flew in from Beijing immediately."

"He didn't stop for a single moment, even knowing there were aftershocks, he still came—just because he was worried about you."

"Teacher He, when do you plan to confess your feelings to our Teacher Clara?"

She didn't mind the commotion, casting a glance at Ethan.

Then she added: "Our Teacher Clara is very popular, you know."

Chapter 14

"Teacher Zhang." My voice dropped a degree.

Teacher Zhang immediately raised her hands in surrender: "Fine, fine, fine, I won't say any more."

He Jingyun acted as if he hadn't heard those words, crouching down to inspect the gauze on my forehead.

He frowned after one look: "Who stitched this? The stitches are too tight; it will hurt when they are removed."

Ethan spoke up: "I did. Stitches that are tighter are less likely to leave a scar."

He Jingyun turned his head to look at him.

That glance held no hostility, only a very faint appraisal.

Then he stood up and extended his hand: "He Jingyun. Are you with the medical team?"

"Ethan. Doctor."

The two hands grasped each other, shaking briefly.

He Jingyun’s hand was dry and firm, with a thin layer of callouses on the pads of his fingers.

I set down my thermos: "Teacher He, aren't you going to set up the tents? Teacher Zhang said there aren't enough."

"They’re already done." He Jingyun glanced down at his watch, "I still have to go to the village in half an hour to pick up a few students; a section of the road has collapsed. You lie down and rest well, don't move around."

After saying this, he turned and walked out.

As he reached the entrance, he suddenly stopped and looked back at Ethan: "Dr. Ethan, the medical team is going to the village tomorrow for epidemic prevention, right? Since it's not dark yet, you should get some rest early too."

The tent curtain fell.

Teacher Zhang also hobbled out, leaning on a mop handle.

Only two people were left in the tent.

I leaned against the head of the bed, picked up the Chinese textbook on the bedside table with my right hand, and flipped through a couple of pages.

Ethan stood where he was, watching me.

A searchlight from the rescue team outside the tent swept over, flashing on and off across my face.

"That Teacher He, is he pursuing you?"

He regretted it the moment he asked.

The words felt like a mouthful of dry sand; even to him, they sounded unpleasant.

My hand, which had been turning the pages, paused for an instant.

Then I closed the book and looked up at him.

The gaze was calm—so calm that it made his heart run cold.

"Ethan, this is my business."

"It has nothing to do with you."

Ethan’s Adam's apple bobbed.

He wanted to say that for these past two years, I have lived in regret every single day.

He wanted to say that the moment I heard your name on those ruins, I thought the sky had collapsed.