At the airport, the person in charge stepped forward, hand outstretched for a handshake.
But the man ignored him completely, striding past to the medical personnel in protective suits. In fluent Arabic, he asked, “What’s the situation?”
Medical staff replied, “There were 492 people on the flight, including the crew. All have been quarantined for observation.”
Xie Dingyuan didn’t slow his pace. Behind him, the Chinese medical team was unloading medicine and equipment. “Where is the quarantine area?”
“The open ground behind the airport.”
“What symptoms does the first suspected case show?”
“High fever, with intermittent convulsions and vomiting.”
“Any signs of subcutaneous hemorrhaging or organ failure?”
“None for now.”
“How many people are currently showing suspected symptoms?”
“Ten. They’ve been isolated separately. Here’s the list…”
Xie Dingyuan reached out to take the list. The next moment, his eyes narrowed sharply.
…
“Wake up. Time to take your temperature.”
Jiang Fuyue was roused from sleep and took the thermometer, tucking it under her arm.
The doctor was the same one who had scolded them earlier for “reckless youth.” He was Chinese and spoke Mandarin.
As they waited, he chatted with Jiang Fuyue: “…You kids, seventeen or eighteen, still muddled about everything, already putting love above all. What is this, a soap opera? Willing to risk your lives…”
Jiang Fuyue didn’t respond.
She could now clearly feel her body changing—her temperature rising, limbs going weak, and her mind becoming clouded.
The doctor continued, “But still, while that boy’s behavior isn’t exactly commendable, it did take courage. Alright, time’s up—hand over the thermometer.”
Jiang Fuyue did as told.
The doctor’s voice turned noticeably more serious, “Fever’s high.”
As expected.
“Get some rest. Don’t worry too much—it might just be a regular cold or flu.” He put away the thermometer and left.
Jiang Fuyue closed her eyes. The only comfort was that she hadn’t vomited yet.
Just a bit longer…
Outside the isolation room.
“Professor Xie, you can’t go in!” a medical staffer from his team stepped up to stop him.
Originally, their lab had only been tasked with providing test kits. There was no need to come in person. But the local medical staff in Tunijilia hadn’t been trained and didn’t know how to use the kits.
That’s why the lab had no choice but to send a team for on-site guidance.
Still, someone of Xie Dingyuan’s caliber didn’t need to be here.
He only came because the news reported that 95% of the passengers were Chinese nationals. He’d personally requested to lead the team.
Naturally, the base disapproved—Xie Dingyuan was like a walking vaccine-making machine to them. If something happened to him, the consequences would be unimaginable.
But he gave a very compelling reason: “The Schankwo virus presents differently across regions, with varying levels of transmissibility. I need to collect samples on-site to ensure diversity, so I can develop a vaccine faster.”
The base couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or not. But hey, he’s the expert—whatever he says goes. Eventually, they approved his request.
They even sent a military helicopter to escort him, along with armed elite soldiers for his protection.
And now he wanted to personally enter the quarantine zone.
Not only did the soldiers disapprove, the Chinese medical team also couldn’t stand by.
“If you need samples, we can go in.”
Xie Dingyuan asked, “Do you know how to use the X-Key differentiator?”
“…No.” The X-Key was a newly developed device by Hanqing Biotech that could rapidly read and store sample data, but the operation was complex.
Though Professor Xie had demonstrated it before, the process involved parameter tuning and some programming. No one on the team had yet been able to fully operate it on their own.
At that, no one spoke further.
Xie Dingyuan changed into his protective gear and went in directly.
“We’re not… stopping him?”
“Only if we could stop him.”
“D*mn our lack of skills…”
…
Inside the single isolation room.
Jiang Fuyue lay curled up on the bed, eyes tightly shut.
If one looked closely, they’d see her trembling all over. Cold sweat soaked her forehead, and her long hair clung to her pale neck—a fragile, almost haunting beauty.
Though her eyes were closed, she remained conscious.
She could hear a middle-aged woman cursing in the next room, recognize the pacing of medical rounds, even feel the door in her room vibrate faintly when the room opposite closed.
Her mind was clear, but her body was weak and heavy. Jiang Fuyue curled into a ball, arms hugging herself, knees drawn up—seeking even the smallest sense of safety.
Suddenly, she heard the door creak open.
Footsteps approached the bed.
She felt someone’s gaze fall on her, and the next moment, a cool touch pressed to her forehead.
A familiar voice whispered beside her ear: “Yueyue, wake up. Are you okay?”
Xie Dingyuan?
A chill ran through Jiang Fuyue. Could this virus cause hallucinations?
“Is it uncomfortable? Hold on, you’ll be fine soon.”
The hallucination continued—so vivid, so real.
She could even feel his warm breath at her ear as he spoke.
So warm…
Jiang Fuyue tried to open her eyes, desperate to see for herself. But it was no use.
She wanted to call his name—to see if he’d respond. But she could only move her lips, no sound came out.
Xie Dingyuan leaned in even closer, practically pressing his ear to her lips, trying to hear what she wanted to say.
“Yueyue, speak up.” His voice was gentle, soothing.
“Xie…”
He heard it!
Even if it was just a faint syllable, it made his eyes light up. “Xie… what?”
“Ding…”
He froze.
Xie Ding…
Wait, what if it wasn’t “xie”, but “Xie” as in his name?
Xie Dingyuan…
She was calling him?
Before she fully lost consciousness, Jiang Fuyue felt herself pulled into a warm embrace. Her curled limbs were gently unfolded.
Then came a sharp sting as a needle pierced her skin. Cold liquid entered her bloodstream.
She shivered and instinctively nestled deeper into that warm chest, seeking comfort—rubbing her face against him without realizing it.
That same voice murmured softly in her ear: “Sleep now… It’ll all be okay after a nap…”
When Jiang Fuyue opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was a plain white ceiling.
Rough and simple.
She was still in the isolation room, watching medical staff bustle outside the glass window—more people than before, moving in careful, orderly fashion.
She raised a hand to her forehead. Her fever had gone down, though she was still slightly warm.
But her limbs no longer felt weak.
She rolled over and drifted back to sleep.
Just beyond the wall, Xie Dingyuan looked at the purple reading on the test strip in the reagent kit and let out a long breath.
“Not Schankwo.”
The medical team behind him smiled in relief.
After the initial case had been confirmed, it was pure luck that the others weren’t infected.
Schankwo was highly contagious.
Thankfully, no other positive cases had turned up during the full screening.
Xie Dingyuan raised his hand, and a staff member helped remove the barrier tape outside the room.
One room after another, they tested for three full hours.
Only one person tested positive and was confirmed. Everyone else was negative and removed from isolation.
That included Jiang Fuyue.
“Your symptoms—fever and muscle weakness—were due to severe acclimation issues. Once you finish this IV, you’ll be free to go.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh, and the meds have a strong sedative effect. Try not to sleep too hard.”
“Got it.”
The doctor left, and the room was quiet again.
In her mind, Jiang Fuyue heard the soft voice that had whispered beside her earlier… He’d called her Yueyue.
So… was it really Xie Dingyuan?
Or just a dream?
As she wondered, her eyelids slipped closed again.
She fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, never even noticing when someone opened the door.
By now, Xie Dingyuan had removed his protective gear. The isolation rooms around them had been disinfected.
He gazed at the sleeping girl. Her face was pale but calm, the earlier tension now gone, replaced by serene quiet.
“Professor Xie, we need to go.” Someone called from outside.
“I know,” he replied.
Even his voice didn’t wake her.
A trace of helplessness passed through his eyes. He’d hoped to talk with her—but couldn’t bear to disturb her rest.
He bent down, gently cupped her cheek, and whispered, “Yueyue…”
Then, he leaned in and kissed her.
It was reckless.
But he didn’t regret it.
