PDGUT - 14

In that moment, Yu Tian swore she hadn’t misread Yan Ming’s expression—he looked as if he were gritting his teeth and struggling to endure something. However, moments later, his expression smoothed out into a perfect mask of calm, like the surface of a tranquil lake, leaving no trace of the storm that had brewed beneath. This left Yu Tian wondering if she had imagined it all.

“Not difficult.”

Each word from Yan Ming seemed squeezed out through clenched teeth. He shot Yu Tian a slightly menacing glare before smoothly launching into an explanation that proved the “not difficult” claim.

“In the surgery you mentioned, the patient experienced an acute recurrence of angle-closure glaucoma. They had suffered multiple episodes years ago, which were treated with medication at a local clinic. But this time, the attack was severe—no anterior chamber, dangerously high intraocular pressure. Performing a puncture in an eye without an anterior chamber carried enormous risks…”

“So first, we had to address the challenge of the missing anterior chamber. Using a 15° new blade, we pierced the cornea to allow a small amount of aqueous humor to flow out, creating a tiny anterior chamber.”

“Then, using a 5ml needle, we entered through the puncture site and tilted the needle’s bevel to slowly release the aqueous humor, lowering the intraocular pressure. Once the anterior chamber and pressure issues were alleviated, the surgery became possible.”

Yan Ming was explaining a peripheral iridectomy he had performed, addressing the questions and surgical logic Yu Tian had recorded in her notebook. His explanations were detailed and thorough.

“However, the patient didn’t want major surgery or the risk of hospitalization afterward. So during the peripheral iridectomy, instead of using forceps to grasp the iris inside the anterior chamber, I used the technique you saw in the later video—gently pressing the posterior lip of the limbal incision to catch the protruding iris and perform the iridectomy. This approach kept the incision small, respecting the patient’s wishes.”

At this point, Yan Ming added: “The patient was a migrant worker at a construction site. First, major surgery and hospitalization would have been costly. Second, he had elderly parents and young children to support, so he couldn’t afford to stop working. Third, he had a natural aversion to major surgery and was under significant psychological stress.”

Yu Tian nodded repeatedly. Initially, she had been desperately trying to find topics to break the ice, but now, fully immersed in this Q&A session, she had forgotten everything else.

Yu Tian bombarded Yan Ming with questions nonstop.

Her medical foundation wasn’t weak, so many of the problems she had puzzled over on her own became clear with just a little guidance from Yan Ming. She felt as though enlightenment was dawning on her with every explanation.

Far from complaining about the slow service like other diners, Yu Tian secretly wished the food would arrive even later.

Compared to satisfying her appetite, intellectual nourishment was far sweeter.

For Yan Ming, it seemed the same.

Once he entered the explanatory phase, he became completely absorbed. Gone was the strange guardedness Yu Tian had sensed earlier. He answered her professional questions openly and thoroughly, completely unfazed by the restaurant’s slow service.

To create an intimate atmosphere, the restaurant’s lighting was dim, with evening breezes blowing in from the nearby lake. The walls were adorned with projections of swaying greenery, and each table held a small lamp with a scented candle emitting a blend of lemon and white musk—a subtle, teasing aroma. The flickering candlelight seemed like an unexpected signal.

Bathed in this interplay of light and shadow, Yan Ming’s profile was close enough to touch yet felt impossibly distant.

As Yu Tian glanced up during a pause in his explanation, this was the scene before her.

The handsome, aloof man had his gaze lowered, his long, elegant fingers pointing at a spot in the notebook, explaining with meticulous focus.

Yu Tian knew she should concentrate, but she couldn’t help zoning out.

Her attention drifted, becoming scattered. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the notebook, feeling like a fish aimlessly swimming in water. She tried to remind herself to stay alert, but she couldn’t resist being drawn to the baited hook above the surface.

Yan Ming’s face was her hook.

She stared blankly at his profile until his voice snapped her back to reality—

“Yu Tian, do you understand this part?”

Yan Ming’s expression was distant, but the warm glow of the yellow light softened his features.

He looked at her, his voice carrying a cool edge: “You were distracted. If there’s anything you didn’t follow, I can explain it again.”

Though his tone was perfectly polite, Yu Tian felt her cheeks flush with guilt.

She could barely meet his gaze.

Silently, she berated herself.

Humans really are visual creatures—she was no exception.

But perhaps biting the hook was a flaw ingrained in her genes. Yu Tian found herself unable to resist stealing glances at Yan Ming’s face.

To regain focus and not waste time, she made a decision.

She closed her eyes.

Sure enough, the moment she lost sight of him, her rationality returned, and their academic exchange resumed smoothly.

However, Yan Ming clearly wasn’t accustomed to this.

Yu Tian heard him ask in a strange tone: “What are you doing?”

Yu Tian sighed deeply, feeling reflective: “Closing my eyes makes my thoughts clearer and more active!”

“It turns out my good grades back then were because my teachers weren’t attractive.”

She cracked her eyes open slightly and looked at Yan Ming earnestly: “Brother Yan Ming, thank goodness you didn’t stay at school to teach. Otherwise, our school would have even more students failing to graduate.”

Yan Ming frowned slightly: “What?”

The way to beat the bait was to confront it head-on.

Yu Tian’s voice was firm: “You’re too good-looking—it’s distracting.”

“…”

After saying it, Yu Tian felt some of her guilt ease.

Rather than hiding her feelings, she might as well openly compliment Yan Ming.

After all, if he were to become her stepbrother one day, she’d still feel proud of him.

Besides, her admiration for him was genuine. Even if they didn’t end up as step-siblings, Yan Ming still held a strong idol-like filter in her eyes.

Good looks and exceptional skill? It was the complete package.

After closing her eyes and bluntly praising Yan Ming, Yu Tian’s heart became calm and unburdened once more. But Yan Ming’s inner turmoil took a different turn.

He was utterly shocked.

With Yu Tian’s eyes closed, Yan Ming could observe her freely without worrying about her reactions.

Her face showed no trace of shyness or nervousness. She sat there, calm and composed, with her eyes peacefully shut.

How could someone with such a beautiful, strikingly cold and alluring face say something so direct, so unfiltered, so… cheesy?

And yet, she delivered it so naturally.

Yan Ming found himself staring at Yu Tian’s face, momentarily lost in thought.

It wasn’t until Yu Tian’s voice brought him back that he snapped out of it.

“Brother Yan Ming, where were we?”

This person had theatrically closed her eyes, only to open them again moments later and resume their discussion as if nothing had happened, pulling Yan Ming back into the depths of their professional conversation.

She acted so candidly, as if her earlier clumsy advances had no ulterior motives and were merely heartfelt compliments.

This discussion flowed effortlessly, and by the time the food arrived, Yu Tian still felt reluctant to let it end.

Fortunately, the meal didn’t fall into awkward silence. As they ate, Yu Tian couldn’t resist continuing their conversation, discussing medical issues and the current state of hospital residency programs. What she had feared would be an awkward dinner passed in the blink of an eye.

Yan Ming was surprised by all of this.

He had expected a long, uncomfortable dinner.

Yet, when he glanced at his watch, he realized nearly two hours had flown by unnoticed.

When Yu Tian first began discussing professional topics, Yan Ming had remained somewhat guarded. But as their discussion deepened, he relaxed, even finding that they shared similar views on hospital system reforms.

However, not wanting to owe Yu Tian for the meals she had brought, Yan Ming took advantage of her answering a call near the end of the meal to settle the bill at the front desk.

The payment went smoothly, but the total was much lower than Yan Ming had anticipated. He had checked the average price per person beforehand, yet what he paid was only half of that.

Just as he turned to head back to his seat, a waiter stopped him and handed him a slip of paper—

“Sir, this is a love poem your girlfriend wrote for you.”

The waiter’s expression was full of blessings: “You can keep it as a memento. It’s our special surprise. Also, congratulations—we think you make a great couple!”

Yan Ming was taken aback. He briefly considered clarifying the misunderstanding but simply nodded and accepted the so-called “love poem.”

Yu Tian’s confession, though delayed, had finally arrived. She hadn’t wasted this opportunity after all.

Perhaps she had felt too shy to confess directly, resorting to having the waiter deliver the poem?

Still, this love letter was incredibly crude.

Yan Ming had received many love letters, but never one so casual. The “poem” wasn’t written on any proper stationery—it looked like it had been torn straight out of a notebook.

Frowning, he unfolded it cautiously, already planning how to gently reject her.

But instead of the heartfelt verses he had anticipated, Yu Tian’s “love poem” consisted of just one line, delivered with zero sincerity—

“I like you the way your mom beats you—unreasonably.”