DCH CH 11

This Doctor Praises People Behind Their Backs

Following exit signs from the inpatient building, Qingyi emerged into a long corridor.

Second Hospital had many such passageways – white walls accented by pale blue signage creating a serene atmosphere, with potted plants adding life to the sterile environment.

Floor-to-ceiling windows on both sides flooded the hallway with golden afternoon light. Many patients who couldn’t be exposed to wind came here with family, some in wheelchairs, to enjoy the warmth.

The corridor opened into a large garden still glistening from the afternoon rain, everything softened by a hazy quality.

As Qingyi wandered among strolling patients, he felt like he’d experienced life’s harsh realities in Dr. Lu’s office, only to have his soul cleansed here.

He settled on a garden bench, simply observing the comings and goings, soaking in the rare tranquility.

This peace lasted barely ten minutes before a young boy in athletic wear wheeled into the pavilion.

Qingyi normally avoided interacting with patients, not wanting any misunderstandings. But this quiet boy who immediately started playing mobile games intrigued him – especially when the familiar “double kill” announcement rang out.

Not bad for someone so slight, Qingyi thought as he approached – only to see the now-gray screen revealing the boy had been on the receiving end of that double kill.

“Go clear mid lane,” Qingyi suggested, crouching by the wheelchair. “Mid lane minions will help your Ma Chao scale.”

“Who are you?” the boy snapped. “What do you know about this game?”

Only then did Qingyi recognize him – Dr. Lu’s patient from earlier.

“You’re the first person to ever question whether I can play this game,” Qingyi chuckled.

“You any good?”

“Very.”

“Started as an unwinnable game anyway,” the boy said bitterly. “Just like everything else in my life.”

“It’s still winnable.” Qingyi opened the economy panel. “The gap’s small – we can come back.”

The young boy looked up at him. His loose hospital gown made his frame appear even thinner. His cheeks were slightly sunken, but his eyes were bright—large and dark. Qingyi sized him up for a moment and thought that, if not for the illness, this boy would have had a likable appearance.

What a shame.

“Who are you? You can make judgments just by looking at me?”

“I’m Qingyi.” For once, Qingyi didn’t pretend to be another pro player and honestly gave his ID.

“What?” The boy frowned, his expression full of disdain.

“I said, I’m Qingyi.”

“Bullshit! You think I don’t know who Qingyi is?” The boy’s tone was gloomy, his attitude far from friendly.

Qingyi, however, remained patient and didn’t take it to heart. “Don’t believe me? Fine. I rarely introduce myself like this… Hey! Watch out for Bai Qi’s taunt!”

“This game’s side lane is Lu Bu, and there’s no marksman. The entire team’s damage output depends on you and the jungler. You have to maintain the highest gold income.”

The boy didn’t respond, but he followed Qingyi’s advice and headed toward mid-lane. Still, he hesitated. “If I take all the farm, won’t the mid-laner fall behind? Won’t they curse me out?”

Qingyi chuckled. “Ma Chao is the only side-laner who can truly carry. His map mobility, farming speed, and damage output are all top-tier. Playing Ma Chao means taking resources from two lanes—don’t feel guilty about it.”

The boy looked up, the hostility in his eyes replaced by a glimmer of hope. “Are you really Qingyi?”

Instead of answering, Qingyi began analyzing the match seriously. “The enemy is running a Sun Bai Yang composition. Their power spike is late-game, but in the early and mid-game, they pose zero threat to Ma Chao. They need gold too, but three people splitting farm can’t keep up with you farming solo.”

“You’ll hit your power spike way before they do.”

The boy nodded, straightening his frail frame. His eyes no longer looked lifeless—instead, they burned with the vigor of youth.

After clearing another wave, the boy instinctively turned toward the side lane again, but Qingyi stopped him. “Go to the gold lane.”

“Huh?”

“Lu Bu is recalling to heal. You go to the gold lane,” Qingyi explained. “You’re in your power spike now. Laning against Di Renjie will let Lu Bu pressure Bai Qi more effectively.”

Seeing the boy still looked confused, Qingyi scratched his head and elaborated. “Let Lu Bu take the early-game pressure while we scale. Once we’re strong enough, we’ll teach this Di Renjie a lesson. That’s how you utilize your team’s strengths.”

“To truly understand this game, you have to outplay your opponents through macro, not just capitalize on their mistakes.”

Lu Jingcheng waved it off magnanimously. “No problem, just invite them all next time—only the truly skilled deserve to play with us~”

There was no way some random pub player could be better than his Qingyi.

---

The promotional video on the phone had long since ended. Only then did Lu Jingcheng realize he’d been so engrossed in conversation that he hadn’t paid attention to the visuals. He dragged the progress bar back.

The young general held up a collapsing empire, and behind him stood a silhouette—a graceful figure holding a paper fan.

Seemed like a teaser for the next skin.

Lu Jingcheng took off the earbuds and handed them back to Xue Wang. “It’s late. You should head back and rest.”

You’ve still got a tough battle ahead of you.

Xue Wang nodded, put away his phone, and waved at Lu Jingcheng. “Goodbye, Dr. Lu.”

Lu Jingcheng watched as Xue Wang wheeled away. The war cries from the trailer still echoed in his mind, lingering in the silent corridor like an unshakable specter.

He glanced around, then up at the bright moon overhead, feeling oddly dazed. For a moment, the line between the game’s world and reality blurred.

The surroundings fell silent again. The corridor lights, having detected no movement for too long, dimmed once more.

Lu Jingcheng checked the time on his phone. His two interns would probably be back soon. With a sigh, he resigned himself to returning and supervising those two troublemakers as they slogged through their reports.

Truly, the life of a glorified workhorse.

Just as he stood to leave, the crisp sound of footsteps suddenly rang out behind him—tap, tap, tap.