Chapter 70: Nameless

When he stepped out of the clinic, Shengyao unsurprisingly found himself on the same street he had just seen. It was as if something unseen was guiding him. Shengyao lifted his head and noticed a tall building not far away. On its wall, the large illuminated characters spelled out “Longcheng First Hospital,” glowing against the pale light of day and night’s shift—the very name he had seen earlier in that medical record.

Following that direction, Shengyao walked on. Passing a fruit shop along the way, he paused and bought two boxes of perfect-looking strawberries.

After all, he was going to a hospital; bringing a small gift might leave a good impression on that stranger of a fellow patient.

He circled around to find the hospital’s main entrance, then wandered inside to locate the emergency ward.

Longcheng First Hospital was vast, with several medical buildings and an enormous emergency hall, within which dozens of beds were arranged.

Shengyao threaded his way through the hall, past exhausted, suffering patients and their anxious families, and saw even more such scenes in the emergency ward itself. Among them, a few elderly men and women stood out, their spirits markedly different from the rest.

His heart felt heavy—a sense of familiarity rooted in his years spent caring for four elders—and yet overwhelmingly out of place, a feeling he traced to the strange clinic he had just left.

Back then, Bai Xiao had also been sent to a hospital, but when the firefighters rescued her from the car, there was no sign of life left. She hadn’t been sent to the emergency room, but straight to the morgue.

Shengyao could barely recall how he retrieved Bai Xiao’s body from the hospital morgue. His clearest memories of such places stemmed from the funerals he arranged for his parents and in-laws later on.

His steps grew heavier as he unconsciously made his way to bed seventeen.

On that bed lay a pale-faced woman, hair disheveled, her eyes half-closed. Beside her, an old woman with sparse silver hair and deeply lined features dozed in a chair.

For a fleeting moment, Shengyao seemed to see Bai Xiao—or perhaps his parents and in-laws.

A voice quickly pulled him back to reality.

“…Who are you looking for?”

Shengyao turned to see a man laden with bags eyeing him with suspicion.

The voice roused both the dozing old lady and the half-awake female patient.

“Oh, you’re here,” the old lady greeted the man, standing up while gazing at Shengyao with the same puzzled look.

For a moment, Shengyao did not know how to answer.

His gaze swept over the “17” plaque at the head of the bed and the paper with the patient’s name beside it.

The woman’s name was clearly printed there.

Was this the “fellow patient” he was looking for?

Faced with the twin looks of confusion, Shengyao had no choice but to speak: “I’m looking for the patient in bed seventeen…”

The two sides clearly did not know each other—an odd scene.

A bright-eyed old man in the next bed suddenly interjected, “You must be looking for the woman from this morning? This family only just arrived this afternoon.”

At that, the family seemed to understand. The man ignored Shengyao, set his things down, and began conversing with the old lady, inquiring about the doctor’s instructions and urging her to go home to rest.

Shengyao walked over to the old man’s bed and asked, “There was a different patient here this morning?”

“Yes. A woman with long hair, an oval face—I don’t know her name. She was brought in by ambulance yesterday, underwent resuscitation all night, but left no name; the hospital didn’t know it either. She seemed better today and was discharged after settling the bill,” the old man said enthusiastically, though his gaze at Shengyao was tinged with curiosity.

Shengyao didn’t quite understand, but hearing that the patient left no name matched the blank medical record he’d seen. That must have been the fellow patient he was seeking.

After thanking the old man, Shengyao was about to inquire further at the nurses’ station when a nurse entered to change another patient’s dressing.

The old man, evidently a regular here, called out to the nurse by name.

She, too, seemed familiar with him. “Why are you still here? It’s been days. You’ve had all your IVs…”

The old man waved off the question, quickly changing the topic and pointing at Shengyao. “He’s here looking for the previous patient in bed seventeen.”

Caught off guard, Shengyao nonetheless appreciated the old man’s saving him an introduction.

He nodded politely to the nurse, about to speak, only to find her and the surrounding patients and family giving him odd looks.

Something… felt off.

“Oh…” The nurse regained her composure. “Come with me. Actually, there’s still a report for bed seventeen that hasn’t come out, and she didn’t leave a phone number. You can leave your contact info.”

With all eyes in the ward on him, Shengyao followed her to the adjacent nurses’ station.

She introduced him to the on-duty nurse inside, who also gave him the same peculiar look.

“…What’s your name?” the nurse asked as she clicked her mouse, opening a file on the computer.

“Ahem. Could you tell me what brought her to the hospital?” Shengyao seized the moment, taking the lead.

Both nurses looked surprised.

“She just sent me a photo; I don’t actually know what happened to her,” Shengyao answered vaguely.

Their expressions grew even stranger.

A call bell rang inside the station. The first nurse glanced over and went back into the ward, leaving the second to stand up and say, “Come with me.” She led Shengyao into the doctors’ lounge in the back and said to a middle-aged man in a white coat, “Dr. Li, this is the family member from bed seventeen. The patient told him nothing.”

Dr. Li’s expression was odd, but he soon returned to normal. “Oh, please sit,” he said, gesturing to a seat nearby.

Shengyao found all of this extremely strange, but remembering that this involved a patient who’d “found” the monster clinic, it all felt oddly logical.

He sat down obediently, the two boxes of strawberries resting on his knees.

The nurse left, gently closing the door behind her.

The room was utterly silent.

Dr. Li’s sharp typing broke the quiet. He thoughtfully turned the screen so Shengyao could see the medical record.

“Here’s the situation. Your—uh, girlfriend—she was brought in due to massive bleeding. Our initial diagnosis: a failed abortion procedure. The fetus was not properly expelled, leading to heavy bleeding,” Dr. Li explained, pointing out the ultrasound and CT reports as he spoke.

Shengyao froze.

“The fetus was resilient… already six months along. Normally, we would never perform a termination at that stage—it’s too risky. She herself said she had no prior medical records, and refused to provide her ID. So…” Dr. Li, having explained the medical side, began to falter.

A weight settled in Shengyao’s chest.

“She insisted on being discharged today. The bleeding has stopped. She’s not in any immediate danger, but… as we told her, she shouldn’t undergo another termination attempt, and really ought to see an obstetrician. Further tests are needed to determine the state of the fetus,” Dr. Li added.

Shengyao’s heart sank deeper.

It dawned on him that the nameless patient was not the woman currently occupying bed seventeen.

Even if the woman refused to give her identity, and even if she left no name in the emergency ward, her name could not be hidden at the monster clinic.

Even Maomao, the cat, had left its name there—how could a human woman not have one?

Only a person without a name would leave the medical record blank.

Realizing this, Shengyao shivered.

How could such a “patient” have entered the monster clinic?

His mind drifted, unbidden, to Bai Xiao’s strange attitude.

Was Bai Xiao frightened?

No, that wasn’t it.

Bai Xiao was…

Suddenly, Shengyao stood, the boxes of strawberries slipping from his knees and scattering across the floor.

…

Shengyao left the hospital in a daze.

He kept recalling the scenes he’d dreamt again and again after Bai Xiao’s death.

The sweetness of the past, the horror of the accident… Every nightmare ended with Bai Xiao slumped in her seat, her life visibly ebbing away. Blood would flood his vision, waking him in a crimson haze. Then, all he saw was darkness—like a mire, like an abyss—paralyzing him, dragging him ever deeper.

Red and black became the only colors he could discern during that time.

He’d almost forgotten… forgotten that, in truth, he had not seen much blood at the time. Bai Xiao, frozen in his memory, was pale.

He’d also forgotten that Bai Xiao had been trapped in the passenger seat because she was pregnant, her slightly rounded belly pinning her in place.

If Bai Xiao hadn’t been pregnant… Even so, the violence of the crash, the twisted wreckage, might have trapped her anyway.

But if she hadn’t been pregnant, if they hadn’t been so happy, so full of hope for the new life to come, he wouldn’t have spent the anniversary of their engagement and marriage taking her to revisit every place that commemorated their seven years together.

He had chosen the date; he had mapped out the route. The beginning of it all was his encounter with Bai Xiao. The end was that unborn child.

When Bai Xiao died, grief consumed him. He forgot about the child. Family and friends, fearing to upset him, never mentioned it. Since the baby was unborn, it was cremated with Bai Xiao; they never prepared a separate grave.

For thirty-five years, and even after Bai Xiao’s resurrection, he had completely forgotten they’d once had a child.

He had dug up the ashes with his own hands and handed them to the doctor. The doctor revived Bai Xiao… yet in those ashes, there must have been…

Stumbling, Shengyao walked on until he saw the neon-lit sign of the monster clinic.

He pushed open the glass door and hurried to the patient room.

Bai Xiao sat quietly on the hospital bed, turning her head to look at him, as if she had long known he would return. A gentle smile appeared on her face—soft, serene, illuminated by the harsh light of a cheap energy-saving bulb, yet peaceful and calm.

Shengyao closed his eyes, moved closer, and slowly knelt at her feet, wrapping his arms around her waist.

He pressed his face to Bai Xiao’s abdomen.

He had once knelt like this, trying to hear the movement of their baby in her belly. He had never succeeded. Bai Xiao always teased him for his impatience.

Beneath his knees was cold cement tile, not the warm carpet of their home thirty-five years ago. The waist he circled was slender, showing no trace of pregnancy.

He could hear Bai Xiao’s breathing.

That was all he could hear—only Bai Xiao’s breath.

The doctor had brought Bai Xiao back to life, but not the child within her.

A warm palm rested on his head, and Bai Xiao’s gentle voice drifted down.

“Do you want a child?” Bai Xiao asked.

Shengyao trembled.

Countless memories slowly surfaced from the depths of his mind.

He remembered: while Bai Xiao had always liked watching pet videos, it wasn’t until they began trying for a baby that she genuinely wanted a pet. She joked, hoping their child could grow up with both a cat and a dog and become a winner in life. She had seriously studied bestselling parenting books, discussing with him how pets could help shape a child’s temperament and habits.

The child had come sooner than expected. They didn’t have time to get a pet and were already worrying how best to welcome the new life about to arrive.

Shengyao didn’t know how to answer Bai Xiao’s question now.

Only now did he realize that in his joy and anxiety over Bai Xiao’s return, he had forgotten so many details from thirty-five years ago.

For thirty-five years, he had never forgotten Bai Xiao and could not escape the shadow of her death, but he had inevitably forgotten many moments they had shared.

Time passes, after all.

He thought he was standing still, but the years had pushed him forward, washing away memories he had wanted to keep forever.

Bai Xiao, though, was different. For her, the accident had happened only months ago. She remembered everything, but, mindful of his feelings, kept silent.

With what heart had Bai Xiao spoken to him of pets?

What was she feeling when she so strongly wanted to return home, and what had changed, that now she never mentioned it?

Thinking of this, Shengyao began to tremble.

Bai Xiao did not wait for his answer. With a helpless, troubled sigh, she continued, “It’s hard to register a child in our situation now—we couldn’t explain where the baby came from… Schooling and everything would be a hassle.” She said this with some regret, but lightly brushed it aside. “Honestly, even without a child, it’s not so bad. We were caught off guard back then. We’d planned to wait another couple of years, really. We were preparing, but it was mostly talk… Our parents didn’t even know yet. Now… now it’s just the two of us.”

Shengyao lifted his head to meet Bai Xiao’s sorrowful yet strong gaze.

He took her hand.

“This is good enough,” Bai Xiao repeated, bending forward to rest her forehead against his. “Just the two of us, forever in our own world—that’s romantic too.”

A smile blossomed on Bai Xiao’s lips.

Shengyao felt the softness of her fingers in his palm.

He looked down at her empty ring finger.

“You’re right. From now on, it’s just the two of us, forever,” Shengyao finally said, pulling her into a tight embrace beside him.

Pressed close, they felt each other’s breathing and heartbeat, and even the warmth of each other’s skin.

Not a cold, lifeless body, but the living Bai Xiao.

That was enough.

So Shengyao told himself.

Though he had just spoken of their world of two, it was not destined to last long.

The doctor strolled over, frowning, his deep blue eyes sweeping the room before he curtly asked them to leave.

Only then did Shengyao realize it was the usual time for him to leave the clinic.

When he let go, he noticed no stiffness in his muscles. There was still some regret, but he quickly smiled and wished Bai Xiao good night.

He left the room with the doctor, closing the door gently behind him.

The doctor made no move to see him off. Having ushered him out, he simply returned to his office.

“Doctor.” Shengyao hurried after him.

The doctor turned.

“Can I help Bai Xiao with the discharge paperwork?” Shengyao blurted out, then corrected himself, “I want to help her check out tomorrow and take her home.”

A glint flashed in the doctor’s blue eyes. The hand in his pocket made a rattling noise. The nails muttered for a few seconds, then fell quiet.

“As you wish,” the doctor replied indifferently, devoid of emotion.

Shengyao nodded, thanked him, and asked about the medical fees.

The doctor’s blue eyes grew deeper; beneath the mask, a subtle smile seemed to form.

“No need,” he said crisply.

Shengyao wanted to say more, but seeing the doctor’s eyes, he closed his mouth. He expressed his gratitude sincerely and left the clinic with determined steps.

The doctor remained where he was, watching Shengyao’s figure disappear through the glass doors before turning his eyes toward the patient room, then returning to his office.

As the office door closed, all the lights in the monster clinic flickered out, plunging it into darkness.