The Film Emperor Is Sick, I have No Cure - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“Xiao Lu, uh, so, today is my daughter’s birthday, and my wife told me to hurry home right after work.”

Dr. Lin gave a couple of light coughs, then slung an arm around Lu Danggui’s shoulder. “But the patient in Ward 19 just finished MECT, and we need someone to stay and observe. You see—”

“…How about you head back first, Brother Lin. I’ll stay tonight to keep watch.”

Noticing the Barbie doll gift set in Dr. Lin’s hand, Lu Danggui immediately understood.

Dr. Lin’s face was openly full of gratitude. “You’ve really helped me out big time this time. I owe you a meal, brother!”

Lifting his head with a small smile at Dr. Lin, Lu Danggui then shifted his gaze back to the computer and continued typing the ward round records.

After Dr. Lin left, only Lu Danggui and a few night-shift nurses remained in the office.

The ward rounds had just been completed, and for the moment there wasn’t much else to do. The nurses sat chatting quietly in a corner, occasionally sneaking glances at Lu Danggui at the computer, as if afraid he might overhear.

“Dr. Lu is really such a nice guy. This is the third time this month Old Lin’s asked, right? And he agreed again?”

“Exactly. Dr. Lu’s already worked two consecutive night shifts. Why doesn’t the director say anything…”

“Because they all think Dr. Lu is easy to take advantage of.”

One nurse raised her voice slightly, but when she saw Dr. Lu glance their way, she quickly lowered it again. “But then again, the department’s been so busy lately, and honestly, only Dr. Lu seems to have the time… who else would they ask if not him?”

Lu Danggui sorted the files on the desk, pretending not to hear.

The entire psychiatry department thought Dr. Lu had a good temperament, never lost his temper, and was an all-around nice guy.

There was only one person who didn’t think that way.

That person was Lu Danggui himself.

It had been almost a month since he finished his probation and officially became a psychiatrist.

After enduring five years of medical school and three years as an intern, running back and forth every day between home and the hospital, he had long looked forward to the day he could see patients independently.

But when he finally became permanent staff, Lu Danggui at last realized just how plump ideals could be, and how bony reality was.

In this well-known Class-A tertiary general hospital, a newly confirmed young doctor was like a blank slate, no seniority, no reputation, and hardly anyone making appointments to see him.

Psychiatry was one of the hospital’s specialty departments, attracting patients from all over the country by name. The seniors were swamped from morning till night, but Lu Danggui sat on the cold bench in the department for a long time without much to do.

After Wen Fei started college and moved into the dorms, with her counselor and classmates taking care of her, she no longer needed her big brother fussing over her.

Wanting to get more contact with patients and quickly build up hands-on experience, Lu Danggui started running errands for the seniors in the department.

At 8 a.m., he was the first to arrive at the consulting room. When the director began seeing patients, he fetched films and report sheets for him.

At night, he was the last to clock out. When the senior doctors packed up to get off work and go on dates, he stayed behind to do ward rounds for them.

The director, worried he might have thoughts about it, even called specially to comfort him.
“Xiao Lu, you have to take it slow and don’t rush. Look at our department, who hasn’t gone through this stage? Adjust your mindset, don’t be afraid of hard work. Once you’ve built up a good reputation, patients will naturally come.”

He didn’t tell the director that he wasn’t actually afraid of hard work or long hours.

By the time the test results came back and he finished assessing the patient’s mental state in Ward 19, dinner time had already passed.

Taking the elevator down to the first floor, Lu Danggui bought some bread and two hot dogs from the hospital convenience store. He planned to find a quiet, empty spot to eat quickly before going back on duty. Ever since his sister had moved out, he’d lived even rougher, being too busy to eat on time was a common thing.

Carrying his simple dinner out of the shop, Lu Danggui stopped in front of the large iron gate at the stairwell entrance.

Seeing no one he knew around, he clenched his right hand into a fist and slammed it hard against the iron gate.

One punch, two punches—

The dull ache spreading across the backs of his fingers briefly calmed his heart.

After venting, Lu Danggui shook out his hand and left without looking back.

—

The Affiliated Hospital of S University was backed by the city’s largest mountain forest scenic area, with its five inpatient buildings built halfway up the hillside. Surrounded by mountains and water, the greenery and environment were excellent.

Unlike the other inpatient buildings, the psychiatric ward occupied its own compound. Tall fences stood around the yard, and both the front and rear gates were guarded by security staff, with entry and exit strictly controlled.

By the artificial lake in the back yard, there was a long bench, Lu Danggui’s regular spot for hurried meals during busy days.

The sun was setting, and the sky was growing darker. He glanced at his watch, still half an hour before his night shift began.

After finishing the bread in just a few bites, Lu Danggui leaned back against the bench, crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and tried to catch a short nap before work.

……

Half-asleep, half-awake, he faintly heard sharp arguing and crying coming from behind him, one voice rising above another.

Then came a deafening burst of background music, mixed with those voices, all overlapping in chaotic “splendor.”

The noise was unbearable. Lu Danggui opened his eyes, frowning.

Rubbing his eyes, he turned his head to find the source of the racket, only to notice that, at some point, someone else had appeared by the lakeside. The culprit who had invaded his peaceful refuge and ruined his rest was sitting there openly just a few meters away.

It was a man in a wheelchair.

He wore striped hospital pajamas, an IV bottle hanging from the back of his hand, and was completely absorbed in the tablet resting on his lap, the sound was coming from the tablet.

S City was a coastal city, and early autumn weather was still far from cold. Yet the man wore a mask and sunglasses, with a thick cashmere scarf wrapped around his neck, covering his face completely. Two wheelchair tracks drew a winding shadow across the stone path, while the setting sun filtered through gaps in the branches, scattering golden light over him.

“Outdoor time is already over. Where’s the nurse responsible for you? Why did they leave you here alone?”

Out of professional instinct, Lu Danggui spoke up to remind the man.

The psychiatric ward had rules about patients’ outdoor time. It was now 7:30 in the evening, well past the allowed time, no inpatient should still be here.

The man in the wheelchair kept his eyes on the tablet in his hands, not even lifting his head.

“Hey, can you hear me?”

Seeing the man remain silent, Lu Danggui asked again.

He was already in a foul mood today, and now someone was actually testing his patience.

The arguing in the drama went on nonstop, while the man in the wheelchair sat as still and quiet as a statue.

Just when Lu Danggui thought the man might be hearing-impaired, he finally heard him speak: “The nurse will come get me at eight.”

The man’s voice was unusual, at first, it sounded mild and gentle like a soft breeze or light rain, but there was a rasp to it, as if he were deliberately lowering his tone.

Which ward had such an irresponsible nurse, leaving a patient outside for so long?
What if something happened?

Lu Danggui glanced at his phone, still over twenty minutes until eight.

The strange aura about this man made him uneasy. In psychiatry, you saw all kinds of people, and if something did happen to this guy, Lu Danggui could jump into the lake and still not wash his hands of responsibility.

Temporarily setting aside his earlier irritation, Lu Danggui returned to the bench and sat down, quietly keeping an eye on the man in the wheelchair.

The drama on the tablet had reached its climax. The heated argument between the male and female leads felt especially jarring in the quiet hospital grounds.

Lu Danggui forced himself to be patient and tried reasoning with the man in the wheelchair, “Could you turn it down a bit? This is the inpatient area, playing it out loud will disturb others’ rest.”

“……”

The man’s fingertips curled slightly. He lifted his pale fingers and turned the tablet volume down a little.

“Have you seen this?”

Still staring at the tablet, the man in the wheelchair asked.

“What?”

The man was succinct, “Autumn in My Heart.”

Lu Danggui nearly choked.

Isn’t this that melodramatic, angst-filled romance drama that was all the rage worldwide years ago? People still watch it now?

“I’ve seen a bit,” Lu Danggui answered truthfully. “My sister likes it. I just think it’s pretty melodramatic.”

There was a time when Lu Wenfei was completely obsessed with it, watching and crying at the same time, and insisting on dragging her brother along. The show was nothing but endless love entanglements or life-and-death melodrama, which really wasn’t Lu Danggui’s style.

The man in the wheelchair nodded and said nothing more.

Silver-like ripples spread across the lake’s surface, and the inpatient ward’s dim yellow streetlights came on. Lu Danggui and the man in the wheelchair sat on opposite sides of the lakeshore bench, one watching a Korean drama, the other scrolling on his phone, each minding their own business, neither paying the other any attention.

As it grew darker, Lu Danggui glanced at the time on his phone, calculating how long until he had to return for his shift, when suddenly his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the peaceful atmosphere by the lake.

Seeing it was the director calling, Lu Danggui quickly answered, “Director?”

“Yes, I’m still in the hospital, haven’t gone back yet—”

The director told him over the phone that there would be a medical seminar at S University tomorrow, and that he should prepare the necessary PowerPoint tonight and come along as an assistant in the morning.

“Alright, I’ll prepare the materials and send them to you as soon as possible. Mm, mm, okay, no problem.”

After hanging up, Lu Danggui gripped his phone and stared at the shimmering lake for a long while. Then he slowly bent forward, burying his face deep into his palms.

“Damn, so annoying…”

After working two consecutive night shifts, his body and mind were already exhausted to the extreme, yet he still had to hold out. After all, there was another tough battle after the night shift, and at this rate, he probably wouldn’t get any sleep until dawn.

Thinking about all the work ahead, Lu Danggui stood up from the bench and asked the man, who was still focused on his drama, “Something came up for me, I might have to leave first. Which nurse is in charge of you? I can give her a call and ask her to come get you early.”

The man in the wheelchair pressed pause and looked quietly at Lu Danggui through his sunglasses.

“Why are you annoyed?” the man asked.

Still thinking about the task list from the director, Lu Danggui casually brushed it off. “It’s nothing, just too much going on.”

The man said calmly, “Too much going on makes you annoyed?”

Lu Danggui was growing more and more impatient. “If every day you’ve got nothing serious to do and it’s all just trivial tasks, wouldn’t you be annoyed?”

“Are trivial tasks very annoying?”

The man in the wheelchair continued to ask.

Lu Danggui’s breath hitched, he almost laughed from sheer exasperation.

Which ward was this guy from? Was he missing a few screws?

Work was already busy enough, why was he here playing word games with some nutcase?

Taking out his phone to contact the nurses’ station to come get him, Lu Danggui suddenly noticed the identification wristband on the man’s wrist.

“Department of Rehabilitation Medicine, 03-01.”

Lu Danggui: “…”

He’d gotten it wrong.

This man wasn’t a psychiatric patient at all, so he didn’t have to follow the psychiatric ward’s accompanied-outdoor-time rules.

But seriously, at this hour of the night, out of all the places he could be, why did this guy have to come sit under the psychiatry building watching dramas?

And he had been worried something might happen to him, sitting there keeping him company for nothing.

Grabbing the trash bag, Lu Danggui stomped off toward the inpatient ward. Halfway there, he suddenly seemed to remember something and turned back.

Returning to the man in the wheelchair, Lu Danggui said irritably, “Since you’re from Rehab, didn’t your doctor ever tell you rehab patients shouldn’t sit outside in the wind for too long?”

“I snuck out,” the man said after a few seconds of silence.
“Help me keep it a secret, I’ll go back later on my own.”

“You still haven’t answered me, are trivial tasks annoying?”

Seeing Lu Danggui turn to leave, the man repeated his earlier question.

Lu Danggui stopped in place and took a deep breath.

This guy was really set on butting heads with him!

“I’ll ask you this—” Turning back to glare at the man, Lu Danggui gave a humorless laugh.
“You study medicine for five years, then intern for three, and in the end you realize you can’t do anything, go a whole month without a single patient, not even see a case you can get your hands on, tell me, can I not be annoyed?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Lu Danggui regretted them.

He didn’t even know what was wrong with him. Clearly, he had endured all these years, and such shameful little emotions were supposed to quietly rot away in the bottom of his heart. Back in the office, he was still the well-liked “Dr Xiao Lu” everyone adored.

So why was it that just because this stranger prodded him, he ended up spilling everything?

The man tilted his head slightly, as if he didn’t understand.

Lu Danggui rolled his eyes, immediately turning to walk away.

He was already barely managing to keep his own head above water, why was he bothering so much about this man?

—

Watching the little doctor’s puffed-up, angry back disappear down the tree-lined path, the man in the wheelchair said lightly, “Xing Shi.”

From behind the bench, the bushes rustled, and a black-clad figure silently emerged from the shadows.

Xing Shi quickly plucked a leaf from his head. “Young Master, your orders.”

When the little doctor had left the first time, Xing Shi had been about to step out, but the Eldest Young Master had made a hand gesture, so he could only quietly shrink back again.

The Eldest Young Master handed over the tablet in his hand. “Record it.”

Taking the tablet, Xing Shi quickly opened the form to make a note.

【Today’s Progress Observation】

Autumn in My Heart / Episodes 16–18

【Emotions & Behavior】 No significant fluctuations

【Remarks】

……

Xing Shi thought for a moment but decided not to write in the remarks column that the Eldest Young Master had spent half the time chatting with a stranger doctor.

The medical team had drawn up several stages of a treatment plan. One of the most important goals was to enhance the Eldest Young Master’s ability to empathize.

To stimulate the Eldest Young Master’s emotional responses, the team had prepared a “must-watch film & TV list.” Every title on it was crammed full of high-concentration melodrama.

The Eldest Young Master had already been watching Autumn in My Heart for more than ten days, and so far, it didn’t seem to be having much effect.

“That person just now, was he from Psychiatry?”

On the way back to the Rehabilitation Department, the Eldest Young Master suddenly asked,

Xing Shi bent down to tuck the blanket over the Eldest Young Master. “Showing up in the psychiatric ward at this hour, he should be a psychiatrist.”

“Mhm.”

The Eldest Young Master responded, sounding a little absent-minded.

“Go confirm with Dean Qiu,” after a moment, the Eldest Young Master said, “Next Monday, I want to book an appointment with him.”