Mei Ran's mother, Murong, had been born with a congenital heart condition and had always had a fragile constitution. After insisting on giving birth to her daughter, her health declined steadily, holding on until finally, before even reaching forty, she passed away.
At that time, Mei Ran was only seventeen. Half of what should have been her most beautiful years were spent in hospitals. That night, it was raining just like this. She and her father, Mei Hongyuan, waited outside the emergency room. Before this, the doctors had issued one critical condition notice after another.
She had vaguely expected that this day would come eventually, but she hadn't imagined it would arrive so swiftly. When the doctor walked out with heavy steps, telling them to go in and see the patient one last time, Mei Ran felt her world collapsing in that instant.
It was her father who half-supported her as her legs gave way, guiding her inside. The tall, silent man seemed to have aged twenty years overnight. "Be strong," he said. "Let's go… together… to see your mother off one last time."
But Mei Ran could clearly feel how tightly his hand was gripping her shoulder, trembling faintly. She couldn't manage a single "okay," only nodding through her sobs.
On the sickbed, her mother clung to her final shreds of life. She no longer had the strength to hold the hands of these two people she loved most. Large, heavy tears seeped from the corners of her eyes, yet she forced a feeble smile. "Think-it-Over… Don't cry… Mama wants… to hear you sing that song one more time."
*In my most beautiful moment,
Meeting you is my fortune,
……
You are the best encounter in this world.*
As the heavenly, beautiful singing voice filled the room, Murong slowly closed her eyes.
"Think-it-Over, your mother… is gone."
"No, she's not!" Mei Ran's eyes reddened as she sang again and again, "In my most beautiful moment…" until her throat was parched and raw, until not another sound could emerge.
Mama, you once said music could create miracles… So why… Why didn't you stay?
Why, when I’ve worked so, so hard to become a doctor, can I still not keep a single life?
Her unanswered question hung in the air, silenced by heaven and earth alike.
A fresh wave of bitterness welled up in Mei Ran’s heart. She threw her head back and took a large gulp of wine. As she did, she caught sight of a shadow slowly enveloping her.
Out of the corner of her eye, the faint outline of a sharply defined profile came into focus. The man’s brow was slightly furrowed, his thin lips pressed into a tight line. Those beautiful eyes simply looked at her, quiet, profound, and utterly unreadable.
"ans…" Mei Ran almost blurted out, but she caught herself quickly. "Mr. Fu?"
At this time, in this place… How could he possibly appear here?
Fu Shijin said nothing, casting a thoughtful glance at the haphazardly scattered empty bottles beside her. His frown deepened.
Just then, a blinding glare of car headlights swept over them. Mei Ran shielded her eyes and suddenly heard him speak.
"Get up. I'll drive you home."
Even in this summer night, despite the rain, his voice seemed to have been frozen in an ice cellar.
Mei Ran gave a slight shiver, unsure whether from the embarrassment of being discovered by a patient, or from the alcohol. Her cheeks flushed a swift, deep pink, and her reactions felt dulled. Almost stupidly, she muttered an, "Oh."
Fu Shijin unlocked his car and gestured for her to get in first. Then he disappeared. Mei Ran waited for what felt like a long time, but he didn’t return. Peering around, she was astonished to see him stooping over, picking up the empty bottles she’d drunk from and putting them into a bag.
A man like this… even performing such a mundane action… it was still a pleasing sight. Mei Ran’s gaze felt tethered to his retreating back by an invisible thread. Watching his fluid, practiced movements, her cheeks suddenly felt as if they were on fire, burning hot.
When he finally got in, his tall frame leaning slightly towards her as he settled, Mei Ran felt her heartbeat spiraling out of control.
"Fasten your seatbelt."
Mei Ran, engulfed by his unfamiliar, crisp masculine scent at such close quarters, froze for a good three seconds. "Oh… oh! Right."
Fu Shijin waited until she’d secured her seatbelt before slowly starting the car. He drove in silence past three intersections before seemingly remembering to ask, "Where do you live?"
"Huajing Garden."
Beneath the towering apartment building, Zhou Yimiao stood behind a pillar holding an umbrella, his gaze profound as he watched the direction in which the black car had vanished. A long while later, he let out a soft sigh.
Through the thickening rain veil, he seemed to see again the deep mountain village where he had lived many years ago—his father, braving the heavy rain to plough the field halfway up the mountain; the dense cluster of low, cramped old houses below… He seemed to see those endless nights, holding a book under the faint, yellow, bean-sized lamplight until dawn, his legs swelling with raised welts from mosquito bites…
Zhou Yimiao slowly closed his eyes. As the only university student from the village, even from the whole township—and later, a cardiac surgeon wielding a scalpel in a major city hospital—the awestruck gazes from the villagers each time he returned home were still vivid.
"Ah-Miao, you’ve really brought honor to your dad! So young, yet already so accomplished!"
"Ah-Miao, your legs have truly pulled free from the mud now. From now on, you're a city man!"
But deep down, he was starkly aware of one truth: no matter how outstanding he was, the gap between them remained a chasm. Just the moon-phase watch on her wrist alone would cost a whole year of his salary.
Give it up, Zhou Yimiao. No matter how hard you strive, you will never, ever be worthy of her.
His phone screen lit up. Zhou Yimiao tapped open WeChat and began typing: "Junior, I heard about what happened at the hospital this morning. Are you alright? No matter what you've done, your senior brother will always support you. Get some rest early. Good night."
Retreating to the safety of being just a senior brother… was better. At the very least… he could still watch over her silently from the side.
He tapped send, pocketed his phone, and walked into the rain, his solitary, silent silhouette receding.
Two rows of streetlamps stretched into the distance, the air hazy with mist. The car seemed to glide steadily along a river of light. As they ascended the overpass, raindrops as thick as beans began pummeling the roof with a frantic \'*pitter-patter*.
"The rain's getting heavier," Mei Ran said softly.
The man, focused on driving, merely gave a soft, "Mmm."
An awkward silence stretched between them. Mei Ran wasn't particularly skilled at making conversation, let alone with such a reserved, terse man; she couldn't find a topic.
Thankfully, her father’s incoming call alleviated her discomfort slightly. Clutching the connected phone, Mei Ran greeted softly, "Dad."
"Think-it-Over, I heard you had an unpleasant encounter with a patient at the hospital today?"
It was so quiet in the car that the voice on the other end was exceptionally clear. Mei Ran, casting a surreptitious glance to her side, lowered her voice. "Exactly how many eyes have you planted around me? Seems nothing ever gets past you."
Mei Hongyuan had already been briefed by his secretary on the whole sequence of events. Hearing this, he just chuckled lightly. "Alright. Dad trusts you to handle things properly. The nutritional supplements Secretary Wang sent over… have you been taking them?"
Mei Ran touched her nose, a little guilty. "I have… had some."
The voice on the line launched into earnest admonition once more. Mei Ran listened intently, so she didn’t notice the man beside her, his hands gripping the steering wheel, suddenly stiffen, a faint network of blue veins emerging on the back.
"Old Mei," she suddenly sighed. "Are you hitting menopause? You’re so wordy lately."
There was a brief pause before the reply came. "What day is it two Saturdays from now? Do you remember?"
"Huh?" Mei Ran fought back a chuckle, a rarely seen glint of mischief dancing in her eyes. "What day? Seems I don’t recall."
"Be careful on your way home. I have a business dinner later, so let's leave it at that."
"Business dinner? I'm telling you, you absolutely cannot dr—" However, someone who had just indulged in excessive drinking couldn’t, with a clear conscience, demand that someone else not drink. Especially with a direct "witness" present. Mei Ran’s voice trailed off weakly. "Dad… drinking is bad for your health. Drink less, please."
Hanging up, Mei Ran felt her guilt intensify, daring not to glance in Fu Shijin’s direction even once.
Just now… did the corner of his mouth quirk up… was that… a hint of a smile?
The rain gradually subsided. Mei Ran closed her eyes to rest when her phone *dinged*, signaling a new message.
Fu Shijin reflexively glanced over at the sound. The words "Senior Zhou" were clearly displayed on the screen. He shifted his gaze away, his expression impassive.
Mei Ran replied to the message. Just then, the car turned into the Huajing Garden residential complex, pulling smoothly to a stop beside a fountain.
Twilight had settled, household lamps lighting up in clusters of soft orange or bright white, shimmering together like a spread of campfires in the deep forest.
Pushing the car door open, the scent of flowers, crushed and scattered by the rain, drifted in from all directions, mingling with the slightly cool air—an indescribably refreshing sensation.
It was only then that the effects of the alcohol seemed to catch up with Mei Ran properly. Her legs felt like limp noodles, barely able to support her, and she nearly tumbled to the ground. Thankfully, a hand shot out and quickly steadied her.
"Alright?"
Hearing that low voice, Mei Ran felt another three parts of drunkenness wash over her. She nodded. "Fine." Then, realizing that seemed wrong, shook her head. "I’m… fine."
Fu Shijin looked at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Let me see you upstairs."
The next day, when Mei Ran woke, her mind still felt a bit fuzzy. She only remembered the man’s last sentence about seeing her upstairs; everything after was unclear. Had she even thanked him?
*Ansel, Fu Shijin… He truly doesn’t remember me.*
Mei Ran had been precocious since childhood, starting school earlier than most. If not for her mother’s untimely passing, she should have continued further and further down the path of music. Unfortunately, life offered no such second chances.
She had finally emerged from that grief. Unbeknownst to her, during that lowest period of her life, the moniker "MR" skyrocketed to fame along with the song "You Are the Best Encounter in This World." At that time, the music industry’s most mysterious composer-lyricist—Ansel—had come looking for her.
Because of her mother’s death, Mei Ran had lost much of her passion for music. By then, she’d already transferred from the music department to clinical medicine. But this man had tried repeatedly to persuade her. Finally won over by his persistence and patience, she’d relented and agreed to collaborate… Sadly, when she was eighteen, another mishap occurred.
Her father’s business ventures grew larger and larger, attracting envy from many. Though the ludicrous kidnapping lasted barely half an hour, Mei Ran still paid a significant price: severe injury to her right wrist. Though she received timely treatment, even afterwards, simply gripping heavy objects would strain her hand.
What does a hand mean to someone who plays the piano? What does it mean to someone preparing to study cardiac surgery, who intended to save lives holding a scalpel?
Since then, Mei Ran from Clinical Medicine went abroad to specialize in integrated traditional Chinese and Western medicine, while MR, once proficient in multiple instruments, became a vanished legend in the music world.
That inexplicable sense of loss and melancholy washed over Mei Ran again. Earlier in the car, she’d even had a slight, sly impulse, not deliberately disguising her voice in front of him. But he seemed to show no reaction whatsoever.
Perhaps he’d truly forgotten their long-ago agreement. If that was the case… she should forget it too.
Forget the burden of guilt that had coiled around her heart for seven years.
After finding Fu Shijin’s contact information in the hospital system, Mei Ran calmly sent him a message:
— *Mr. Fu, thank you for driving me home last night.*
Saving the number, Mei Ran got out of bed to wash up. When she returned, there was already a reply.
Fu Shijin: *You’re welcome. How do you plan to repay me?*
"!!!"
Wrong number?
Mei Ran double-checked the digits. Correct. Yet uncertainty gnawed at her. She sent another: "*May I ask who this is?*"
Moments later, her phone chirped merrily in her hand. Mei Ran held her breath, answering the call, her heart pounding with increasing ferocity.
"Dr. Mei," a deeply husky voice came through, "this is Fu Shijin."