Controlled Hearts

Chapter 1 -

"Boom—!"

Another shell exploded nearby, and the roar of planes constantly echoed in the sky, sometimes distant, sometimes near. The ground beneath trembled with each explosion, and the hastily constructed Doctors Without Borders medical center continued to sway, with tilted beams threatening to collapse, and dust falling from the ad-hoc earth walls. The few remaining intact pieces of glass on the windows hummed, but at this moment, whether it would shatter into pieces next was the least of the concerns for the increasing number of casualties or the bustling medical staff.

What is more fragile than glass is the lives of people in the flames of war.

Qiao Xin, amidst the chaos, swiftly sewed up a man with a face covered in dirt and unrecognizable. Through the groans and cries of the wounded lying all around, she caught sight of a man not far away holding a child, shouting at a nurse. Standing beside him was a little girl who seemed to be only five or six, with a vacant expression and a hand tightly clutching the man's clothes, her dirty face covered in blood and dark mud stains, with some damp white spots.

In the instant she saw those white spots, Qiao Xin's heart skipped a beat.

She hastily finished the remaining stitches, paying no attention to what the lightly wounded man was saying. She briskly walked towards the man holding the child. Simultaneously, a nurse with a hesitant and complex expression pointed in her direction.

The man turned abruptly, his face filled with fanaticism, strode toward her, and lifted the child in his arms. He incoherently shouted at her, "Doctor! The best doctor! Save my child! Hurry, save him!"

Qiao Xin's steps abruptly halted—

She could clearly see that a large portion of the child's head had been blown off by the explosion.

The child was long gone.

And the white spots on the little girl's face were indeed fragments of her brother's brain.

...

"Ah—"

Qiao Xin let out a short cry, abruptly opening her eyes, gasping for air as if a fish out of water. However, it seemed like she could never breathe in enough oxygen.

She subconsciously reached for her carotid artery, silently counted a few times, five seconds, 11 beats, a heart rate of 132, in an extremely tense state.

It had only been a week since she returned from the Syrian battlefield. Almost every day, she dreamed of what she had seen and done there. Every detail, every nuance in the dream was so vivid, repeatedly returning her to that hell amidst the flames of war, witnessing irreparable pain and death over and over again.

Qiao Xin sighed. Her post-traumatic stress disorder seemed to be more severe than she had estimated.

She sat up, holding her knees, sitting silently in the darkness for a while. She wanted to go to the kitchen for a glass of water but was afraid of waking up Song Yushu in the next room—her waking up without being disturbed by the previous cry was already a miracle.

If Yushu woke up, she would start pestering her about psychological issues again. Well, psychologists are difficult to deal with, especially when that psychologist has been protecting her like a younger sister since childhood.

Just like the previous nights, Qiao Xin skillfully reached for a small bottle from the bedside table, took two pills, swallowed them directly, and lay back in bed, quietly awaiting the medication to drag her into the abyss of darkness.

☆☆☆

"Ah, rising so early even on a grand weekend?"

Upon entering the kitchen, Song Yushu observed Qiao Xin adorned in loose home attire, seated at the table while sipping coffee and engrossed in a book. The warm autumn morning sunlight, filtering through the bright glass windows, cast a gentle halo upon her, endowing her with a soft radiance. Outside the window, sporadic bird songs and the faint footsteps of passersby created an atmosphere of tranquility and serenity.

Bathed in sunlight, the girl possessed a slender frame, and her small face featured profound facial features. The slightly trembling, thick, and curly eyelashes were tinged with golden hues from the sunlight, resembling two brushes dipped in gold powder.

Eyelash perfection! Truly, one wishes to pluck them off!

In her mind, Song Yushu silently muttered, approaching to scrutinize Qiao Xin's complexion. Well, her complexion was fair and rosy, the clear big eyes had no dark circles, indicating that she probably hadn't suffered from insomnia. She thought of asking directly, but Qiao Xin never liked her psychological analysis. So, she simply observed.

Qiao Xin lifted her face, allowing Yushu to inspect. Seeing the obvious relief on Yushu's face, Qiao Xin also quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

...It's good not to hear her lecture on the 101 ways to manage PTSD, really.

Song Yushu, while taking out the toast and placing it in the toaster, kept chattering, "You finally came back unharmed, and you can't enjoy a few days of peaceful life? I don't know what you're rushing for, insisting on starting work next week! What's with 'Dr. Qiao Xin, the youngest neurosurgeon in the history of Emperor Xin Medical College Hospital'? Sounds good, but by parachuting in like this, can your subordinates accept it? Let me tell you, these personnel matters are the most troublesome..."

"Why wouldn't they accept?" Qiao Xin, with a puzzled expression, tilted her head. "My experience as the lead surgeon is extensive, and my surgical precision and success rates are record-breaking, especially in the field of cranial trauma. Who's better than me?"

Song Yushu rolled her eyes at her without good grace. "Yes, yes, you're the best! But normal people have a mentality called jealousy. You, with your abnormal habit of reading something only once, probably don't understand, right?"

"...I don't understand." Qiao Xin honestly shook her head.

"Sometimes, I really can't talk to you!" Song Yushu, picking up the well-toasted bread, sat down on the opposite side of the table and casually asked, "I'm going to my grandfather's house this weekend and can't accompany you. What are your plans next weekend? We haven't gone shopping together for a long time."

Qiao Xin reached over to adjust her plate, aligning it with the coffee cup's center. She then neatly placed two slices of toast in the middle of the plate, corner to corner, edge to edge.

Ah, this looks much better.

Lowering her eyelids, with eyelashes casting shadows on her fair cheeks, her voice barely audible, "Next Sunday is Professor He's memorial day."

Her guilt and sadness, Song Yushu didn't need a master's degree in psychology to read. Annoyed, she slapped the table, "That wretched He Manzhu is still hiding in the United States with Gu Yiqing? Stealing academic achievements and stealing people, so shameless! No wonder she doesn't dare to come back even on her own father's memorial day! It's best if she never comes back in her life. Otherwise, if I see that adulterous couple again, I'll slap them every time! Don't be influenced by her, Professor He... It's not your fault at all! Don't blame yourself anymore, okay?"

Sometimes, having an excellent memory is more like a curse.

Watching her mentor collapse on the ground, mouth askew, consciousness unclear, she could diagnose a sudden cerebral hemorrhage, but apart from limited first aid measures and waiting for an ambulance, she could do nothing. No matter how many times that scene replayed in her mind, it remained vivid, as if it had just happened, equally despairing.

Had she paid more attention to the teacher's situation earlier... If she had turned back a few minutes earlier... Would the outcome be different?

In response to Yushu's concerned gaze, Qiao Xin lifted the corners of her mouth and smiled, "Well, I don't blame myself. Those two individuals haven't appeared for many years; I've long forgotten! You just mentioned going to Grandpa Song's house. Have you purchased the train ticket?"

"Oh, right!" Yushu slapped her forehead, picked up her phone, and went online to book the ticket. After fiddling for a while, she muttered to herself with a furrowed brow, "D*mn! Why does it keep saying my online banking password is incorrect? Every time I use it, I have to retrieve the password. It's really annoying..."

"Lowercase 'c,' uppercase 'X,' number '3,' underscore 'a,' dollar sign '8,' lowercase 'v,' uppercase 'E.'"

"...What?"

"The password! You glanced at it when you reset it a couple of days ago, saying it's random and secure enough." Seeing Yushu's dumbfounded expression, Qiao Xin smiled faintly, tapping her own head with her finger—

"Photographic memory, genius."

☆☆☆

After Yushu left, Qiao Xin tidied up the kitchen, arranging tableware neatly in the cupboard by color and size.

Her schedule remained as packed as ever. During her time of saving lives amidst the battlefield, numerous recently published neurosurgery research papers awaited her review. She also needed to organize her surgical experiences in cranial and spinal trauma into articles, along with consulting on challenging cases via emails from doctors still holding their ground in Syria...

Tomorrow, there's a neurosurgery academic forum in the nearby Meidu City, followed by an evening medical charity banquet hosted by a major conglomerate. While she was only interested in the academic forum, Dean Lin specifically instructed her to attend the banquet. So, she had to laboriously pull out a seldom-worn formal dress and high heels from her wardrobe.

...Troublesome!

For the convenience of out-of-town doctors attending the conference the next morning, the organizers thoughtfully provided a hotel. When Qiao Xin finally swiped her card to enter her room, turned on the ceiling light, she couldn't help but exclaim—

Wow! That foundation is indeed well-heeled; they actually hosted doctors in a luxurious suite of a five-star hotel! The spacious suite was elegantly and delicately decorated, and what pleased Qiao Xin the most was that every arrangement was in perfect order, impeccably clean.

A faint rustling sound came from the entrance, and Qiao Xin curiously walked to the foyer, only to find a small card lying on the floor. Picking it up, she looked at it, and her eyes widened slightly. This was...

The small card depicted a man's torso from the neck down. He wore a well-tailored suit with high-quality fabric, showcasing a well-proportioned and slender frame. Broad shoulders, a tight and smooth chest and abdomen were evident; the top button of the white shirt underneath was undone, and the neatly arranged tie was slightly loosened, revealing a small section of the skin on the neck.

And precisely this only exposed small patch of skin arouses imaginative thoughts about the tightly wrapped remaining parts.

...Is this the so-called promiscuous advertisement Yushu mentioned? Even in a five-star hotel?

However, judging from this elegant, restrained, and subtly suggestive style, it seems quite different from the vulgar advertisements that directly expose a piece of white flesh, as rumored by Yushu.

Qiao Xin sighed inwardly, muttering, "Truly high-end," and casually tossed the card into the trash.

She threw herself onto the super king-size bed, sinking into the soft mattress, making an effort to induce sleep.

...

On the operating table, a young pregnant woman struggled and moaned, her elevated abdomen hit by a stray bullet, a mass of flesh and blood blurring. As she assisted her obstetrics and gynecology colleague in cutting open the woman's abdomen and delivering the full-term fetus, she saw—

The bullet embedded in the tiny skull of the fetus...

...

Qiao Xin suddenly opened her eyes, and what came into view was the concave oval ceiling. The elliptical edge emitted a soft glow in the darkness, diligently fulfilling its design intention of being "neither glaring nor driving away darkness, bringing peace to the heart."

She reached into her bag, intending to take out a sedative, but hesitated when her hand touched the bottle. This thing can lead to dependency if taken in excess... Does she have to rely on medication to sleep for the rest of her life?

She got out of bed, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window barefoot, and pulled the curtains open. The night was quiet, even with distant lights, it seemed black, directionless.

Perhaps she should just take a hot bath? Such a luxurious bathtub isn't something she has every day.

Qiao Xin filled the tub with hot water, and the hotel even thoughtfully provided aromatherapy essential oils. She stepped into the spacious bathtub, relaxing as she lay down, stretching out her limbs, closing her eyes, and comfortably exhaling a breath.

However, while her body relaxed, her brain remained uncontrollably active. Diverse and vivid memories flashed by, and the appearance of the man from the small card she had just seen suddenly froze in her mind—slightly loosened tie, the unfastened shirt button, the small exposed patch of skin below the neck...

An inexplicable heat surged up, and Qiao Xin felt an inexplicable dryness in her mouth and tongue, her neck and cheeks uncontrollably heating up.

She took a deep breath, allowing oxygen to fill her chest and lungs, skillfully sliding down with a smooth motion. The water flowed over her head, external sounds faded away, and the entire world seemed to be covered by a protective shield, safe and enclosed.

Hmm, from a physiological perspective, she is a healthy young woman, and even without actual combat experience, she still has normal physiological needs. Perfectly and harmoniously satisfying these needs can relax the overactive nervous system, aid in rapid sleep onset, and improve sleep quality.

Qiao Xin recalled several research reports on orgasms and sleep quality, and the conclusion was— the scientific community generally supports this theory.

She had a sudden whimsical idea: Why not... give it a try?

With a splash, Qiao Xin broke the water's surface, sat up, wiped off the water droplets on her face, and picked up her phone playing soothing music nearby, pressing the pause button. The music abruptly stopped, and the bathroom suddenly fell into silence, only hearing the gentle ripples of water and occasional dripping sounds.

Although she only glanced at it, that card had already been scanned into her mind, dispersing but not dissipating.

—Including the phone number on the card.

Qiao Xin took another deep breath and dialed the number.

Chapter 2 -

Qiao Xin gently keyed in the telephone number on the small card and pressed the green dial button.

The screen transitioned to "dialing..." as she touched her rapidly beating heart. Suddenly, she felt that this might possibly be an unusual idea.

Hesitating, she moved her thumb above the red button at the bottom of the screen, about to press it—

"Hello?"

—A deep and mellow male voice came through the receiver; the call had unexpectedly connected at this moment.

Qiao Xin's thumb, almost about to touch the screen, came to a halt. This man was probably just awakened; his voice carried a hint of drowsy nasal tone. The short-ending intonation of a single word slightly elongated and rose, resonating with a dark, magnetic charm in the enclosed space of the bathroom. It entered her eardrums as if an electric current passed through her spine, spreading throughout her body.

Involuntarily, she curled her toes. She had