Mei Ran pushed open the door. The person inside turned at the sound, their eyes meeting. He gave a slight nod, his face still wearing that clear, faint expression.
"Mr. Fu," Mei Ran walked in, casually closing the door behind her. "That night, thank you."
Her words held an ambiguous flavor; she herself couldn't quite distinguish whether she was thanking him for last night, or for his aid that night in Provence three years ago, or perhaps both.
Sunlight gleamed brightly behind the man, yet his voice held no warmth whatsoever. "You're welcome."
Mei Ran noted with care that his complexion seemed paler than when he last came. His deep brown eyes remained as profound and unfathomable as ever. She cleared her throat and began taking his pulse.
The pulse was chaotic. Mei Ran's brow creased slightly. After confirming a few times, she released his wrist.
"Mr. Fu, may I ask if you have been taking the medicine I prescribed on time?"
Fu Shijin glanced at her and nodded.
"Then... have you consumed strong tea, coffee, or the like these past few days?"
"No."
He added, "But I have had some wine."
Mei Ran: "..."
"Mr. Fu, for a condition like migraine, TCM treatment should be the initial choice. In my experience, Western medicine generally adopts pain-relief measures, which can't cure the root cause, and most come with side effects. I've studied your case; it falls on the more severe side... I am confident I can control the condition within two months. However, I require your cooperation."
Seeing the person opposite still wearing that aloof expression, seemingly unconcerned, Mei Ran suddenly stood up, her gaze turning sharp and stern as she pressed him. "Mr. Fu, I'm quite certain I emphasized repeatedly before: strong tea, coffee, and alcohol are all to be avoided! Have you truly let it go in one ear and out the other?"
Really... insane. For the condition to deteriorate so suddenly, how much must he have drunk?!
Faced with such an uncooperative patient, Mei Ran was genuinely angry, her tone a bit poor. Evidently, she realized this herself.
"Sorry, I got a bit carried away."
In the past, no matter how challenging the patient, Mei Ran had never made such a mistake. She had forgotten his identity, and her mind was muddled by memories of the past. Right here, right now, he was merely her patient.
A very disobedient patient.
"My apologies," Fu Shijin looked calmly into her eyes. "I will certainly remember next time."
Mei Ran nodded, her expression softening slightly as she went to wash her hands. After drying them, she walked over to stand in front of the man. "Next, I will perform a head massage for you. Initially, the acupoint stimulation won't be very pronounced; it will gradually intensify." Her hand found a spot half an inch directly above the midpoint of his hairline, pressing gently first on the Shenting point to let him adapt, then using both thumbs alternately.
Fu Shijin only felt her warm, cool fingertips pressing rhythmically against his scalp, soft yet forceful, producing an indescribably comfortable sensation.
Though he had not the slightest improper intention, they were so close. He could almost clearly detect the faint scent of medicine on her, mingled with another elusive, subtle fragrance.
The periphery of his vision was filled with her fair cheeks. Their breaths almost mingled. When had he ever been this close to another woman?
Fu Shijin quickly averted his gaze, sitting upright, arduously creating a bit more distance between them—distance that had already been precariously minimal.
Mei Ran, focused on her task, didn't notice his unusual reaction. Her jade-like slender fingers pressed lightly ten times on his temples, then moved to the Touwei point.
Her right hand was injured, now aching somewhat, forcing her to stop and rub it for a moment before continuing.
His fringe rested against her palm, faintly ticklish, making her heart tremble ever so slightly.
After the massage, Mei Ran rewrote the prescription, meticulously repeating the precautions before seeing him out.
Fu Shijin collected his medicine packet. Just as he reached the hospital parking lot, Ye Qihan's phone call arrived right on time.
"I heard you went for your follow-up today? How did it go?"
Fu Shijin replied blandly, "What do you think?"
Unable to guess his thoughts, Ye Qihan could only ask indirectly with some random, harmless questions. "Did all the hospital nurses blush and their hearts race when they saw you? And also..."
Fu Shijin had little desire to listen to his prattling and briefly recounted the events.
"She actually said you're a heavy drinker?" Ye Qihan burst into laughter. "That's utterly hilarious! I must meet this great Dr. Mei in person when I have time!"
Truthfully, the label of "heavy drinker" landing on his head was somewhat undeserved for Fu Shijin.
He wasn't a strong drinker, famously known in the circle as the "three-cup drunk." Yesterday was MR's memorial. Whenever any word related to MR reached his ears, Fu Shijin's emotions were like a switch being pressed on something unspeakable.
Last night his mood was utterly foul, so he had two glasses.
Who would have thought that by midnight, his head would split with pain, tossing and turning unable to sleep.
He endured wave after wave of dense, sharp pain, listening to the same song looping endlessly in his headphones, watching the sky slowly brighten. His clothes, the sheets beneath him—large patches were drenched with sweat as if splashed with ink.
Fu Shijin knew all too well. What truly trapped him, what brought him pain time and again, was his obsession with a person. Forged over seven long years, it ran both deep and solid, as if it had become a part of his very body.
And this obsession could only be attached to one name. No, it wasn't even a real person's name—just two simple letters.
MR, all these years, where have you been? And you... are you safe and sound?
***
Somehow, the video from MR's memorial day was uploaded online by a netizen. The creator specifically added a note at the end: "What we mourn and remember is her voice, her stunning song 'Encounter.' The past is gone, the future holds infinite possibilities. MR seven years, affection unwavering, no regrets. Quietly awaiting the return."
This video and the pointed words that followed quickly caused a sensation. For the vast number of MR fans, it was nothing less than a depth charge. "MR seven years, affection unwavering, no regrets" soon topped the trending topics on Weibo.
The heat refreshed continuously, with readings and discussion counts climbing steadily, jumping right to the headlines.
The few voices questioning the video's authenticity were crushed without a trace by the nearly hysterical MR fans. Topics about MR began spreading overwhelmingly across all kinds of entertainment news.
Soon it was time for the results announcement for the second round of *China's Top Vocalist*. During this recording session, Mei Mengran performed poorly and ranked low. A bit anxiously, she opened Weibo to see the netizens' reactions.
But what filled her vision was all news about MR. Mei Mengran was quite surprised. "MR is still alive? I thought she had already..."
In the music industry, almost no one didn't know of MR.
This woman, with her exceptional musical perception and mastery of various instruments, had once made Mei Mengran look up to her as well. Her tone, musicality, technique, and emotional depth were probably beyond even the current reigning diva Yu Sheng's ability to surpass. Sadly, she had only bloomed briefly before vanishing.
A silver lining was that Mei Mengran discovered the MR topic had drawn nearly all attention away from her poor performance that round, prompting her to sigh with feeling, "MR really appeared just in time!"
Her manager took her phone, tapped a few times consecutively, and when it returned to Mei Mengran's hands, she was surprised to see her own Weibo handle changed to "Mei Mengran MR."
"What's this?"
The manager smiled meaningfully. "Who do you think uploaded that video?"
"But," Mei Mengran hesitated, "is that really okay?"
The manager patted her shoulder. "Between truth and fiction, who can really tell the difference clearly? I've already secured the best resources for you, Mengran. Believe me, riding this favorable wind of MR, you can certainly soar higher and farther!"
"Also, these next few days, focus on studying MR's original soundtracks, mimic her voice and technique well."
As expected, a topic titled "Mei Mengran MR" rocketed into public view at lightning speed. Netizens went practically wild!
Within a day, Mei Mengran's fan count skyrocketed. Soon, the new topic spread like wildfire, gaining an almost unstoppable momentum.
Overnight, the name Mei Mengran was equated with the music legend MR.
"Mei Mengran is MR?!"
Tian Tian also scrolled upon this news, her little heart pounding so hard she almost dropped her phone. "Oh my heavens, is it true?!"
"Senior Sister, I'm so happy! So MR really isn't dead! She's alive, she's still alive..."
Mei Ran murmured an "Mm," her eyes like the water of a deep, quiet pond—clear, calm, and light. But she said nothing more.
Predictably, just as she opened a patient file, Yu Sheng's call charged over, brimming with anger.
Upon answering, the first words from the other side got straight to the point. "Regarding this whole 'Mei Mengran is MR' business, what's your take?"
Yu Sheng's voice was calm, but one couldn't miss the heavy sarcasm and accusation within.
Mei Ran felt a headache coming on. "Sheng Sheng, everyone's happy. Isn't that just fine?"
The line: *Beep beep beep...*
Mei Ran called back. "Hello, the number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable..."
She called again: "...The number you have dialed is switched off..."
It seemed she was genuinely furious this time. Mei Ran rubbed her brow and stood up. Just then, Tian Tian knocked outside the door. "Senior Sister, there's a patient asking for you."
The woman who entered wore a green full-length skirt, her face thickly made up to the point where her original features were almost indiscernible. From the moment she walked in, she stared at Mei Ran intently, as if trying to see right through her.
Just as Mei Ran was about to ask, the woman walked right up close, stroking her chin and letting out a high-pitched laugh. "Well, well, living quite the life indeed. You little sneak really know how to hide, made me search all over. If I hadn't heard folks back home mention it, I wouldn't have known you'd climbed onto the plum branch that is the Mei family..."
Besides the scent of powder, she exuded a strange odor, like something rotten, yet not quite. Mei Ran instinctively took a few steps back.
"What's this?" The woman stared straight at her, laughing in a strange, insinuating tone. "My dear daughter, having flown up the branch and turned into a golden phoenix, surely you haven't forgotten this mother of yours?"