DCH CH 2

This Doctor Has Peach Blossom Eyes!

“Sure, but you’ll have to wait for the last one,” Lu Jingcheng said, supporting Qingyi as he carefully assessed his condition.

At this moment, Qingyi’s back was stiff, unable to straighten up, and he kept one hand pressed against his lower back. His face had turned pale, probably from the pain. Consequently, his discomfort was evident.

Qingyi, who looked a few years younger than Lu Jingcheng, had a slightly rebellious and youthful expression. However, upon hearing Lu Jingcheng’s reply, he managed to pull a faint smile.

“It’s fine,” Qingyi said, still holding his back and standing like a small pregnant woman. “I’ll wait for you.”

“No,” Wu Mian suddenly reacted. Immediately, he ran to the office door and helped Qingyi back into a chair. Being mindful of the public space, he lowered his voice and scolded, “Are you crazy? You’re skipping the director’s appointment to squeeze into his schedule and then you’re still waiting? Can you even handle that?”

Qingyi grimaced in pain as he sat down. Nevertheless, he felt a little better overall: Finally, something had gone his way today.

“You mind your business,” Qingyi replied. “I just want Dr. Lu.”

Wu Mian shot him a sidelong glance of disdain. “Is it because he’s handsome? Are you interested in him?”

Qingyi ignored him, sweating from the pain while scrolling through his phone.

Inwardly, he muttered to himself: As if you understand anything.

At 12:15, Lu Jingcheng finally finished seeing the morning patients, and it was Qingyi’s turn.

“What’s your name?” Lu Jingcheng gestured towards the machine, indicating that Qingyi should swipe his health insurance card.

Qingyi took out his phone, scanned the insurance QR code, and replied, “Huo Ting.”

He was observing this Dr. Lu.

Observing people was a habit of his. In professional competitions, among top-tier players, the moment before a match, when shaking hands with an opponent, or during a brief eye contact, he would already have a good sense of how the match would unfold.

The battlefield of the King’s Canyon doesn’t spill blood, but one moment of carelessness could lead to being ambushed and killed by enemies lurking in the grass.

Qingyi’s eyes seemed to be able to see through an opponent’s essence. Many newcomers often commented in interviews: “Sometimes, when I shake hands with Qingyi, I already feel like I’ve lost.”

But Dr. Lu was calm. The lower half of his face was hidden behind a mask, leaving only his attractive eyes visible.

Were those… peach blossom eyes?

When their eyes met, Lu Jingcheng’s gaze was gentle. He blinked slightly, like a spring breeze brushing through a peach blossom grove. The curve of his eyes was just right—not too sharp, yet not too round, exuding a natural charm.

Lu Jingcheng gently tilted his head, pointed at the chair in front of him, and said softly, “Sit.”

Qingyi held onto the table, his expression pained. “It’s a bit painful to sit down. Maybe I’ll skip it.”

“Can’t sit down either?” Dr. Lu typed Qingyi’s condition into the computer. “This morning, there was a young girl who couldn’t sit either. She had a slipped disc in her lumbar spine.”

“A slipped disc?” Qingyi asked. He only knew the term but didn’t know much about it.

“Go get an X-ray first. Even if the symptoms are similar to others, it doesn’t mean the condition is the same,” Dr. Lu replied, not directly answering Qingyi. He was opening an order on the computer. “Get a CT scan and check the specific bone issues.”

Qingyi hesitated a little. “Dr. Lu, it’s already this late. Aren’t doctors on lunch break now?”

Dr. Lu’s beautiful peach blossom eyes curved, and his gaze shifted in a way that was almost intoxicating. “You can go ahead first.”

“Come back after I finish the scan?”

“Mm, I’ll wait for you.”

Qingyi walked out slowly. Wu Mian was waiting outside and quickly helped support his arm. “What did the doc say? Is it serious?”

“He wants me to get a CT.”

Wu Mian led him toward the elevators. “Makes sense. Probably needs to find out exactly which disc’s out of place?”

“Probably.” Qingyi glanced at the slip in his hand. “They make everyone get tested these days.”

“True.”

They fell into silence.

Just as they got into the elevator, two more doctors came rushing toward the doors. Wu Mian quickly hit the “open” button.

One of them was a female doctor, around forty-five or forty-six. She was slightly out of breath from hurrying and thanked them after catching it.

The other, clearly a young intern, was fussing as she helped the older doctor steady herself. “Seriously though, isn’t this kind of rude? The patient didn’t even bother telling you—just went and registered under Dr. Lu without a word.”

At the mention of that name, Qingyi perked up. Something told him he was eavesdropping on something juicy.

The intern continued to rant, “Director Jiang, aren’t you angry? This Huo guy was really out of line. And that Dr. Lu too…”

“Enough,” Director Jiang cut her off sharply, glancing toward Qingyi and Wu Mian with a dark expression. “Drop it.”

Wu Mian nudged Qingyi and mouthed: Director Jiang?

Qingyi blinked and awkwardly scratched his nose. Good thing she didn’t recognize him—otherwise, this would be so embarrassing.

Fortunately, hospital elevators were always packed. Qingyi and Wu Mian squeezed into a corner, doing their best to avoid eye contact with Director Jiang altogether.

At the radiology department, a young nurse led him inside. A doctor in his forties was already waiting.

“Oh, there you are,” the doctor came out to greet him. “You’re Dr. Lu’s friend, right? Lie down flat—we’ll get this over with quick. I haven’t even had lunch yet. Dr. Lu dragged me back here.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Why else do you think you got your scan the moment you arrived?”

So… Dr. Lu had pulled strings for him?

Well then. That was kind of sweet.

After the scan, the doctor helped him down from the machine.

“You’ve got it pretty bad,” the doctor muttered, shaking his head. “You young people need to move more. Sitting all day isn’t doing you any favors. And Dr. Lu too, always gaming during his break. Aren’t you two friends? Talk some sense into him.”

“I heard he even got caught playing at night during his shift. Director Jiang docked his bonus for it. Tsk, you young folks…”

The doctor kept rambling, but all Qingyi could focus on was one thing: Dr. Lu plays games?

Now that was something he could get behind.

Hearts. So many hearts.

The CT report wasn’t ready yet, but the imaging doctor told him to go straight back to Lu Jingcheng.

“Don’t worry, he can see the images from his computer. Dr. Lu is excellent at reading scans.”

By the time Qingyi made it back to the office, Lu Jingcheng had taken off his mask and was leaning back in his chair, playing a game on his phone.

When he noticed Qingyi, he quickly put the phone down and slipped his mask back on. As their eyes met, he smiled. His eyes curved into delicate crescents.

“It’s my break. Don’t report me,” he said with a slightly helpless tone, though the smile in his eyes was clear. “Or they’ll dock my pay again.”

Qingyi waved his hand quickly. “No, no, not at all. I’m the one disturbing your rest.”

Lu Jingcheng turned back to the screen, his fingers tapping the mouse with practiced ease.

Nice hands, Qingyi noted silently. Easily on par with any pro player.

Lu Jingcheng looked up. “Still can’t sit?”

“Nope.”

“It’s your L5-S1,” he said, showing Qingyi the scan. He didn’t seem to care whether Qingyi understood or not as he pointed things out. “A central herniation. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Twenty-four…” Lu repeated under his breath, no emotion in his voice. “Are you working already?”

He asked, but truth be told, he already knew who this was.

He played Honor of Kings himself—main role, top lane.

Even if he didn’t follow esports closely, it was impossible not to recognize Qingyi, captain of Team IF.

In a sea of average-looking pros, some already going soft from lack of exercise, Qingyi stood out. Tall, lean, striking—like he had built-in filters and lighting in real life.

And besides, his sister, Lu Chengjing, worked in PR for IF.

He remembered just a few days ago, she’d come home from a team dinner, one foot hooked over the couch, munching on a huge apple, venting nonstop.

“You know what, my dear brother,” she said, “Huo Ting—our captain, top laner, everyone’s dream guy—he actually noticed I was wearing lipstick. Told me I looked nice and asked why I don’t wear makeup more often.”

She’d practically exploded.

“Do you know how much effort I put in to hold back the urge to curse him out? I wake up early every day to draw on this flawless face, and he can’t even tell?”

“And get this—he said it with a piece of fish hanging out of his mouth. That look on his face—ugh. I’ll remember it forever.”

“I hope he never finds a girlfriend in his life.”

Thinking back to his sister’s furious expression, Lu Jingcheng couldn’t help but laugh.

Qingyi caught the smile in his eyes—the playful glint, the curve of mischief—and had a sudden feeling that this doctor might not be as calm as he looked.

Associate Director Lu rubbed his nose and let out an awkward cough.

Qingyi, still massaging his lower back, looked at the smile on Lu Jingcheng’s face. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel the slightest bit annoyed. “Did something just cross your mind, Dr. Lu?”

Lu Jingcheng rubbed his nose again, clearly guilty, and stiffly changed the subject. He pointed at the exam bed behind him. “Nothing. Come lie down, I’ll take a look.”

On a normal day, Qingyi would’ve teased him a little, but right now, even the smallest movement felt like torture.

He supported his waist and, though every movement sent a jolt of pain through him, he still managed to climb slowly onto the bed. Once he lay flat, the agony he’d been trying so hard to conceal spilled across his features. Even though he turned his head slightly to offer Lu Jingcheng a strained smile as he approached, the tight crease between his brows told the truth more clearly than words ever could.

Lu Jingcheng lifted one of his legs. “Does that hurt? Any numbness like this?”

His cool fingers held Qingyi’s foot, moving it gently.

“That part’s okay.”

Actually, being held like that… kind of felt nice.

Qingyi’s focus was starting to drift.

“Turn over,” Lu Jingcheng said as he set his leg down. “Can you do it yourself?”

Qingyi instinctively nodded.

But when he tried—propping himself up with his elbow, rotating his waist slowly—a wave of dull, wrenching pain froze him in place.

Tears welled up in his eyes from the pain, and everything in front of him blurred.

Lu Jingcheng quickly stepped in, leaning down to help him turn over.

The name badge on his chest dangled right in front of Qingyi’s face. He blinked through the tears, catching sight of the photo up close. Under the soft blur of his watery vision, those peach blossom eyes in the photo seemed even more captivating—almost dangerously so.

What a world, Qingyi thought. If I’m going to suffer, might as well do it for a pretty face. He shut his eyes, and a single tear slid down his cheek.

It landed right on the back of Lu Jingcheng’s hand.

A strange, quiet ripple spread through Lu Jingcheng’s chest.

After a long and careful examination, it was finally done.

“The current diagnosis is lumbar disc herniation. That much is clear,” Lu Jingcheng said slowly, glancing over at Qingyi.

Qingyi was still lying on the bed, panting slightly from the discomfort. “Is it serious?”

Lu Jingcheng gave a professional smile. “Not too bad yet. Your legs aren’t numb, which is a good sign. Just make sure to avoid sitting for long periods, and try to get some proper exercise.”

“Doctor, I’ve got a match coming up at the end of June,” Qingyi said, unable to resist the urge to stay a little longer. In truth, the excuse he gave was half-true at best—just enough to keep the conversation going. “Is there anything… especially effective you’d recommend?”

Lu Jingcheng reached up to adjust his mask, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Naturally, he knew the competitive season wouldn’t begin until mid-July at the earliest—what match could Qingyi possibly have now?

Even so, he didn’t feel like exposing the lie.

Instead, he played along. “In that case, how about this—you get admitted. It’ll save you the trouble of going back and forth, and walking isn’t easy for you right now anyway. We’ll do conservative treatment: traction, medication, that sort of thing.”

“Admitted?” Qingyi’s heart practically skipped a beat. He was thrilled, barely able to hide the excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. An unexpected bonus?

Hearts. So many hearts.

Outside, Wu Mian was waiting by the door. Qingyi walked out with one hand still bracing his lower back, and the other raised in a small wave toward Lu Jingcheng.

Though the gesture was subtle, it carried a kind of quiet warmth—part childlike, part cat-like.

As he opened the door, a light breeze swept in, lifting a few soft strands of hair from the top of Qingyi’s head.

For some reason, that moment stirred something in Lu Jingcheng’s chest.

“Mm,” he reminded gently, “don’t forget to come in early tomorrow for your admission paperwork.”

The wave was small, kind of like a child—or maybe a cat.

A light breeze blew in as the door opened, lifting a few soft strands of hair from the top of Qingyi’s head. They brushed gently across Lu Jingcheng’s heart.

“Mm, come in early tomorrow to get admitted,” Lu Jingcheng called after him.