Chapter 51 Don't Refuse
At 8:35, the car braked suddenly in front of the Ji family's gate.
Song Zhiyi pushed open the car door and rushed in, Huo Yanli following closely behind. In the living room, Ji's mother was already semi-conscious, her breathing shallow and rapid under the oxygen mask. Ji Yun knelt beside her, his eyes red.
"Miss Song..."
"Get out of the way." Song Zhiyi's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable force.
She knelt beside Ji's mother, her fingers quickly palpating the carotid artery—the pulse was weak, rapid, and irregular. She glanced at her eyes, then opened her acupuncture kit.
The parchment scroll was unfolded, revealing neatly arranged silver needles of varying lengths.
She took out a three-inch acupuncture needle, disinfected it with an alcohol swab, and then looked at Ji Yun: "I'm going to use the Neiguan acupoint. Hold your aunt's wrist to keep her steady."
Ji Yun mechanically followed her instructions. He watched as Song Zhiyi's fingers measured the position on his mother's wrist—two inches above the wrist crease, between the palmaris longus tendon and the flexor carpi radialis tendon. The location was as precise as if it had been measured with a ruler.
Insert the needle.
Twisting, lifting, and thrusting—the technique was clean and swift. Mother Ji let out a very soft groan.
"Do you feel anything?" Song Zhiyi asked, her voice steady.
Ji Yun then realized that she was asking her mother. And Ji's mother, who was already half-conscious, actually nodded weakly.
The second needle is taken at the Quemen acupoint—on the palmar side of the forearm, five inches above the wrist crease. The third needle is taken at the Tanzhong acupoint—on the midline of the chest, level with the fourth intercostal space.
With each needle insertion, she was completely focused, as if the whole world consisted only of herself, the patient, and the needle in her hand. Fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, and her damp hair clung to her cheeks, but she was oblivious to it.
Huo Yanli stood three steps away, watching this scene unfold.
He had never seen Song Zhiyi like this before. Not the calm and professional translator from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, not the silent and aloof Mrs. Huo at the family dinner, but a... doctor. Focused, resolute, radiating a calm yet powerful energy.
After three injections, about five minutes had passed.
Ji's mother's breathing gradually calmed down, and the color of her lips changed from a terrible dark purple to a pale pink. She slowly opened her eyes and looked around blankly.
"Mom!" Ji Yun's voice was choked with sobs.
"Don't get agitated." Song Zhiyi pressed down on his shoulder, her fingers still on Ji's mother's wrist to feel her pulse. "The heart rate has come down, but it's not completely stable yet. How much longer until the ambulance arrives?"
The butler replied in a trembling voice, "They said there are eight minutes left..."
"That's enough." Song Zhiyi withdrew her hand from taking the pulse and began quickly packing up her acupuncture kit. "Auntie, how are you feeling now?"
Ji's mother spoke weakly, "My chest... doesn't feel so tight anymore..."
“Okay. Keep breathing calm and don’t talk.” She turned to Ji Yun. “When the ambulance arrives, tell the doctor that the patient’s symptoms were relieved after taking nitroglycerin but not after acupuncture. Focus on ruling out acute myocardial infarction and malignant arrhythmias. This is important medical history information.”
Ji Yun nodded blankly.
Song Zhiyi stood up and then felt the soreness and numbness in her knees. She staggered, and Huo Yanli instinctively reached out to support her arm.
"It's alright." She steadied herself and withdrew her hand.
The servants in the living room were still in shock, and no one spoke. Only the sound of Mrs. Ji's gradually calming breathing and the ticking of the wall clock could be heard.
Song Zhiyi walked to the coffee table, took out a piece of paper, and quickly wrote down a few lines: "Before the ambulance arrives, do these things: 1. Prepare all of your aunt's past medical records and medication records. 2. Bring a thick coat, as the hospital air conditioning is cold. 3. Prepare her ID card, medical insurance card, and a small amount of cash. 4. Notify other family members, but do not overemphasize the condition on the phone to avoid causing further distress."
She handed the note to the housekeeper: "Prepare according to this."
The butler took it, his hands still trembling, but his eyes had calmed down a bit: "Okay...okay."
The sound of an ambulance siren came from outside the window, growing louder as it approached.
Song Zhiyi retreated to the wall, hiding herself in the shadows, watching the paramedics rush in, hand over the patient's condition, and move the patient. Ji Yun got into the ambulance, glancing back at her before leaving, his eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions—gratitude, shock, and shame.
As the ambulance drove away, the mansion suddenly fell silent.
The servants began tidying up the messy living room, but their movements were much gentler, and they spoke in hushed tones. Everyone who passed by Song Zhiyi would unconsciously glance at her with a look of awe.
Huo Yanli walked to her side: "You..."
"I should go back now." Song Zhiyi put her acupuncture kit into her backpack. "I have work tomorrow."
"I send you."
"No need, I'll call a car."
"Song Zhiyi." Huo Yanli blocked her way, his voice lowering, "Your hair is still wet."
She then remembered how disheveled she had been when she left home. She raised her hand to touch her hair; it was still dripping wet, and a small patch of fabric on her shoulder was damp.
"You'll catch a cold," he said.
There was a few seconds of silence between them. The warm light from the living room chandelier cast long shadows that overlapped on the carpet.
"Let's go," Huo Yanli finally relented. "At least I called a car when we got to the door."
They walked out of the Ji family mansion side by side. A night breeze blew by, carrying the chill of early autumn. Song Zhiyi shivered involuntarily.
A suit jacket was draped over her shoulders, still carrying her body heat and a faint scent of cedar.
She looked up at him.
"Don't refuse," Huo Yanli said, his gaze falling on the streetlights in the distance. "Consider it... thanking you for saving Ji Yun's mother."
Song Zhiyi remained silent for a moment, but ultimately did not take off her coat.
The car arrived. She opened the car door and turned back before getting in: "Tell Ji Yun that if he is diagnosed with a myocardial infarction, he can receive traditional Chinese medicine treatment during the rehabilitation phase, but it must be done under the guidance of a cardiology department in a regular hospital."
"I will pass on the message."
She nodded, got into the car, and drove away.
Huo Yanli stood by the roadside, watching the taillights disappear around the corner, then looked down at his hands—when he helped her up earlier, he had touched her wrist; the skin was cold, but the pulse was steady and strong.
Just like her as a person.
He turned and went back to the Ji residence to get his car. As he passed the living room, he saw shards of a water glass he had knocked over in his haste still on the carpet. The maid was cleaning up, and stopped when she saw him enter: "Mr. Huo..."
"It's alright, let's continue." He walked towards the door, but stopped in the entryway.
A calligraphy scroll hangs on the wall, written by Ji Yun's grandfather: "A doctor's heart is benevolent."
The four large characters are powerful and vigorous.
Huo Yanli stood there for a long time, so long that the butler cautiously asked, "Mr. Huo, would you like a cup of tea?"
"No need." He finally turned and left.
He got into the car but didn't start it immediately. His phone screen lit up with a message from Ji Yun at the hospital: "My mother has been diagnosed with acute anterior wall myocardial infarction and is already in the catheterization lab. The doctor said she was brought in just in time; if she had arrived ten minutes later, she might have... Yanli, please thank her for me. No, I'll thank her myself."
Huo Yanli did not reply.
He started the car and slowly drove into the night. The ginkgo trees lining the street began to shed their leaves, the golden leaves fluttering like butterflies under the car headlights.
He recalled the look in Song Zhiyi's eyes when she inserted the needles—a look of focused devotion.
It wasn't a sense of mission to heal the sick and save lives, but something deeper: reverence for life, adherence to duty, and unwavering commitment to what "should be done."
After she finished doing all this, she simply retreated quietly into the shadows, as if she had accomplished something utterly ordinary.
My phone vibrated again. This time it was Zhou Mubai: "How is Ji Yun's mother? I just finished a meeting."
Huo Yanli replied briefly: "It's stable now. Song Zhiyi saved it."
The other side remained silent for a full minute.
Then he sent a message: "I believe what Uncle Huo said now—we really are not good enough for her."
Huo Yanli stared at the line of text until the screen went dark.
Outside the window, the night was deep. In some corner of the city, Song Zhiyi should have already returned to her dormitory, perhaps drying her hair, or perhaps preparing for tomorrow's work.
She has no idea what kind of ripples those fifteen minutes of emergency care tonight have left in the hearts of so many people.
Like a pebble thrown into a deep pool.
The surface quickly returned to calm.
But the sand at the bottom of the water has permanently changed its arrangement.
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