Cracks in the iceberg

The chill of late autumn has quietly seeped into every corner of the city. In the city hospital, the smell of disinfectant seems even more pungent and acrid, silently permeating the spacious corridors and waiting areas, defining an unquestionable professionalism and distance.

Lu Zi'ang finished a cross-departmental consultation and was walking from the outpatient building to the administration building. He needed to retrieve detailed information about the approval of the latest medical equipment. The three o'clock afternoon sun slanted through the large glass windows, casting long, slow-moving shadows on his crisp white coat. His steps were as steady and efficient as ever, displaying the precise control of time and route unique to doctors.

Just as he was about to turn into the quiet side corridor leading to the elevator lobby of the administration building, a light, cheerful laugh, belonging to a young woman, drifted out from the adjacent interior café. This sound seemed out of place in the usual hospital background noise—the ticking of instruments, suppressed coughs, and hushed conversations.

His steps faltered almost imperceptibly, and his gaze instinctively followed the sound.

In that corner filled with warm yellow light, the aroma of coffee, and the scent of desserts, he saw Su Xiao.

She wasn't alone; she was surrounded by three or four young girls in light pink nurses' uniforms, like a warm-colored flower suddenly blooming amidst a cluster of simple flowers. Today, she wore a soft, comfortable oatmeal-colored turtleneck sweater, her long hair casually draped over her shoulders, her face clean and free of makeup, radiating a rare gentleness and relaxation. At that moment, she was slightly tilting her head, listening intently to a round-faced nurse excitedly describing something. Then, her eyes curved into a bright, carefree, even slightly childlike smile—a smile so genuine that it instantly brightened the small patch of air around her.

Lu Ziang's gaze lingered on her for about three seconds. He saw her naturally lean forward to pick up the pen that had slipped to the floor for another nurse sitting on the outside and place it back beside her; he also saw her, as she got up to get a sugar cube, casually toss the empty paper cup and crumpled tissue left behind by the guests at the next table into the trash can. The movements were fluid and casual, as if it were just an instinct.

This image, along with the one stored in his database—the one holding an expensive imported sunflower, eagerly trying to approach him with various "data analyses," and ultimately being thoroughly rejected by him with more rigorous logic—once again experienced a dramatic overlap and profound separation. An extremely subtle sense of difference, difficult to explain using existing cognitive models and efficiency principles, dropped a small but powerful pebble into his meticulously functioning mind, enough to trigger a chain reaction.

He withdrew his gaze expressionlessly, as if he had merely glanced at a landscape unrelated to him, and continued walking towards the elevator, the hem of his white coat making a calm arc.

Almost the instant Lu Ziang's gaze shifted away, Su Xiao, who was smiling as she accepted a small cookie from the nurse, looked up as if sensing something. At the edge of her vision, she only caught a glimpse of his tall, cold back disappearing around the corner. The smile on her face instantly faded, like a candle flame flickering slightly in an invisible breeze. She lowered her head, picked up her coffee cup, and used the rising steam to mask the sudden unease and indescribable bitterness that welled up inside her. She pursed her lips tightly, telling herself again: Don't worry about it, Su Xiao, it's all in the past.

The elevator entrance in the administration building was much quieter than the outpatient area, carrying the slightly somber atmosphere unique to administrative institutions. Su Xiao pressed the up button, her mind still repeatedly reviewing the procedures and potential troubles she might encounter in helping her friend obtain the necessary supporting documents for that interdisciplinary research project. She was so focused on her thoughts that when the elevator doors opened with a crisp "ding," she almost instinctively stepped inside with her head down before reaching for the floor button.

Just as her fingertips were about to touch the number "9", a figure stepped in after her. The steady footsteps landed on the carpet of the car, making almost no sound, yet carrying an undeniable presence, and stood right in front of the control panel.

Even without looking up, the all-too-familiar, aloof, upright back, and the faint, cool, and unique scent of disinfectant mixed with the woody scent of his usual hand sanitizer, made Su Xiao tense up instantly, and he even subconsciously slowed his breathing.

It was Lu Zi'ang.

The cramped, metal-walled elevator car seemed to have lost some of its oxygen due to his presence, becoming suffocating and oppressive, even the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. Almost instinctively, Su Xiao shrank further into the corner, trying to create as much distance as possible from him, shrinking herself into an invisible shadow. She stared intently at the constantly changing red numbers above her head, silently praying that they would jump faster, much faster, to end this suffocating, unexpectedly compounded cohabitation.

However, fate seemed determined to make its presence felt at this moment. As the elevator smoothly reached between the eighth and ninth floors, it suddenly stopped abruptly without warning! Then, accompanied by a slightly unsettling, metallic scraping sound and a tremor, it came to a complete stop! The lights inside the car flickered uneasily and violently twice before stubbornly stabilizing, but the red number displaying the floor seemed frozen in place, fixed between eight and nine, motionless.

"Ah!" Su Xiao gasped softly, startled by the sudden feeling of weightlessness and the jolting force. Her heart clenched. Her body leaned forward uncontrollably, her feet staggered, and her hands instinctively gripped the cold metal wall behind her. Her fingertips turned slightly white from the force, and a thin layer of cold sweat instantly appeared on her palms.

Almost at the same moment she screamed, as if a sophisticated medical instrument had been triggered with its highest-level emergency response, Lu Ziang, standing in front, swiftly turned around with a trained, almost instinctive agility. His movements were crisp and decisive, without the slightest hesitation; his arm even reflexively rose slightly, forming a subconscious posture with a clear sense of protection and stability. His gaze, like a surgical lamp, focused precisely on her face instantly. His eyes were sharp and focused, possessing the extreme, calm scrutiny unique to doctors assessing patients' vital signs in emergency situations, devoid of all personal emotions.

"Are you alright?" His voice rang out in the quiet sedan, still in that steady, unchanging tone, but Su Xiao seemed to keenly detect that beneath that steady tone, his speech was slightly faster than usual, revealing a momentary tension in his nerves.

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, jolting against her ribs. Su Xiao met his quick, unwavering gaze—a gaze devoid of warmth yet brimming with professionalism and focus. She paused for a second before realizing he was asking her a question. She shook her head, using the cold touch of her hands against the carriage wall to steady her still-weak legs, her voice trembling slightly with shock: "N-nothing. Just... I was startled."

As if in response to their brief but tense conversation, the elevator vibrated slightly again, the ceiling vents emitted a low hum, and the frozen floor numbers seemed to finally break free of their restraints, hesitatingly bobbing before slowly pointing to the ninth floor. Then, with a "ding," the elevator doors opened smoothly and nonchalantly. The brief, heart-pounding pause just moments before seemed like a trivial technical hiccup.

The two walked out of the unsettling, enclosed space, one after the other, their steps slightly hurried. Standing in the relatively open corridor, Su Xiao finally felt the breath that had been pressing on her chest slowly dissipate.

Lu Ziang slowed his pace slightly, turned halfway to the side, and his gaze fell on Su Xiao's face again, then quickly moved down, sweeping over her slightly reddened palm from gripping the wall. He explained in a tone purely stating facts, without any comfort or extraneous emotion, "The elevator undergoes regular maintenance, and the records show it was just completed last week. What happened just now was most likely a brief buffer or signal feedback delay in the control system. The safety brake did not trigger, indicating that the main structure is normal." He spoke as if giving a rigorous technical briefing to a layperson, striving for accuracy and clear logic.

Listening to him earnestly explain the elevator malfunction using professional terminology, Su Xiao finally snapped out of her shock and lingering tension. A sense of absurdity and amusement washed away the remaining fear. "Oh, I see," she replied, her voice returning to normal, even carrying a hint of helplessness and mild teasing about his unique way of communicating, which she herself was unaware of.

Upon hearing this, Lu Ziang paused for a second. His eyes, usually calm and unwavering like a deep pool, looked at her and blinked slightly, as if processing a complex social protocol beyond the scope of daily life, requiring the mobilization of additional cognitive resources. Then, he spoke, asking a question that completely surprised Su Xiao: "You... came to the hospital for something?" This was the first time he had proactively asked her a question related to her personally, completely stripped of their doctor-patient relationship, and almost a casual, outside of a work context.

Su Xiao looked up at him with some surprise, her gaze carefully searching his expressionless, hard-lined face, trying to decipher even the slightest hint of "small talk" or "curiosity," but ultimately failed. He seemed to be merely engaging in a logical extension of a conversation based on the fundamental fact of "acquaintance," conforming to social etiquette. Suppressing the strange feeling in her heart that she couldn't quite define as either disappointment or amusement, she replied calmly, "I came to the administration building to help a friend obtain some supporting documents for a research project."

Upon hearing the word "friend," Lu Zi'ang's eyes flickered almost imperceptibly, then vanished in an instant. He simply responded with a barely audible "Mm," indicating that he had received the message.

Without another word, the two walked silently down the corridor to the exit of the administration building lobby, where they needed to go in different directions. Lu Ziang stopped, turned around, and faced Su Xiao, making a very slight nod, a gesture conforming to the most basic social etiquette.

"Goodbye," he said. His voice remained cold, like the thin frost of an autumn morning.

Su Xiao looked at him, this time without avoiding his gaze, and without the thorn or disappointment she had shown before. She met his gaze and nodded, her tone truly calm and indifferent: "Goodbye, Dr. Lu."

Without any unnecessary pleasantries or forced smiles, the two turned abruptly and went their separate ways, their figures quickly disappearing into the hospital corridors and crowds in opposite directions. The deliberately created, suffocating sense of neglect and sharp awkwardness in the air seemed to dissipate and dissipate with those two calm "goodbyes." Their relationship, from one of deliberate avoidance and awkward "rejection and being rejected," subtly and laboriously returned to the baseline of "acquaintances, ordinary people with whom one could calmly greet each other and engage in brief, necessary conversation."

Clutching the bag containing her identification documents, Su Xiao walked heavily to the next corner. As she rummaged through her large canvas bag for her access card, her fingertips touched a cold, hard, angular object that didn't belong to her at all. She took it out, puzzled.

It was a small, palm-sized, pure white hard-shell pillbox, devoid of any brand logos, advertising patterns, or unnecessary decorations; its simple, almost austere, texture was striking. Along with the pillbox came a neatly folded A4 sheet of paper printed with Song typeface.

She opened the medicine box, inside were pre-packaged multivitamin tablets arranged in weekly doses, neatly arranged. Unfolding the sheet of paper, she saw a concise, point-by-point list of dosage times, frequency, and key precautions, as clear and organized as a medicine instruction manual. At the very bottom of all the clauses was a smaller note, seemingly added afterward: "The pediatric ward environment is complex, and volunteers have frequent contact with the infected. Based on the principle of precaution, appropriate supplementation is recommended."

She stood there, clutching the light yet seemingly heavy medicine box and "instruction manual," unable to recall when Lu Zhiang had put it in the bag.

At this moment, the cold, unadorned medicine box pressed against her warm palm, creating a stark tactile contrast. Su Xiao stared blankly at the line of rational, almost cold, "Based on the principle of precaution, appropriate supplementation is recommended," a complex feeling welling up inside her, difficult to describe precisely in words. It wasn't gratitude, nor joy; it was more like… a profound sense of powerlessness, a bewilderment at being utterly defeated by some powerful logic, and mixed within this powerlessness and bewilderment, an undeniable, utterly absurd urge that almost made her laugh.

He was still the same Lu Ziang. His way of thinking was like a pre-programmed sequence, always prioritizing efficiency and necessity. Even his expression was wrapped in a hard shell of "logic," "risk assessment," and "rational use of resources"—rigid, clumsy, and devoid of warmth, like a sharp-edged stone that knew nothing about connecting with people and could even hurt them.

But this cold, hard, and uncomfortable stone seemed... finally no longer completely turned away from her. It seemed, extremely slowly and awkwardly, to be propelled by some invisible force, to turn a tiny, almost immeasurable angle. From that tiny crack, what emanated was not warmth, but a form of "attention" based on his unique logic, almost ridiculous.

She shoved the medicine box and the instruction manual, so characteristic of Lu's style, haphazardly back into her bag, as if they were something too hot to handle. Then, she tilted her head back, facing the cold light bulbs on the corridor ceiling, and let out a soft, long sigh, as if trying to force out the pent-up, complex emotions churning in her chest.

I looked up, my gaze inadvertently falling on the bright glass window at the end of the corridor. Outside, the thick, leaden-gray clouds that had hung over the city all day had somehow cracked open, creating a narrow gap. A few thin, yet incredibly real, warm rays of golden sunlight stubbornly struggled to shine through that gap, casting shifting, blurry, yet warm patches of light on the mirror-like corridor floor—patches of light that resembled hope itself.