Chapter 102

"This afternoon... thank you for covering for me in front of my parents. I’m sorry about your scar—it was my fault."

Li Xuewu nodded and said: "It’s all in the past. You don’t even care whether I accept your apology. Go have a good meal with your friends. Let’s act like we never met."

At that moment, a female soldier who had followed over chirped: "Oh! Sergeant Li, the battlefield hero—still bothered by such a tiny scar? There are plenty of soldiers in the field hospital missing limbs; what’s this to you? Besides, what’s wrong with a man having a scar? That’s a man’s medal!"

Li Xuewu shot back at her, referring to her as a hospital comrade: "You’re Doctor Tong, right? I was delirious then. My comrades said I was thrashing around in pain, you gave me anesthesia but it didn’t work—wasn’t it you who pushed for direct suturing? I’d like to know why the anesthesia didn’t work."

These words turned Doctor Tong’s face crimson, while Gu Ning’s turned pale.

Li Xuewu had no more patience to settle scores with them: "Fine, let’s say you were afraid of damaging my nerves and dared not use anesthesia."

"We’re all from the same place. I’ve already gotten over my inner hurdle. I don’t want to bring this up again. And you say scars are a man’s medal—but have you ever seen a man who wants to hang his medal on his face?"

Gu Ning felt a pang of guilt. At the time, she and her cohort of medical students had been rushed straight to the front lines.

Their professor said the front line best honed medical skill and courage, so they were assigned to assist military doctors with basic medical care—including suturing.

In medical school, they practiced techniques on corpses, but every medical student must pass the trial of cutting and stitching on living flesh.

One purpose was to build courage, overcoming innate fear; the other was to refine technique, as field hospitals presented every conceivable surgical case.

All her classmates had found opportunities to practice, and their professor had approved them—but Gu Ning kept running around, always missing the patients needing suturing.

When she finally got hold of one, she wasn’t about to let it go. The field hospital was chaotic, so Li Xuewu became Gu Ning’s catch—the first living patient she ever sutured, and a facial trauma patient who kept thrashing.

"The Descent of Tian’a"

At the time, Tong Yan had injected Li Xuewu—but had grabbed the wrong medicine. It wasn’t anesthesia. Tong Yan, afraid of being held responsible, claimed Li Xuewu was resistant to anesthesia, warned against further injections, and urged Gu Ning to hold Li Xuewu down and stitch him directly.

To encounter such a difficult patient on her very first suturing attempt—Gu Ning’s performance was predictable.

Added to that, Li Xuewu was delirious, and Gu Ning had been scratched by his flailing arms; only when his comrade forcibly held him down could she complete the suturing.

Seeing Li Xuewu’s resentful gaze, it was clear he cared deeply about his appearance. Yet this afternoon, he had calmly brushed off the incident in front of his parents—as if closing the chapter on her.

Especially after hearing her mother’s questions, Gu Ning came to understand another side of Li Xuewu, and felt deep guilt—something her nature would never normally allow her to express to another.

Gu Ning had checked Li Xuewu’s documents. Without this scar, his face would have been beautiful. Now it was like fine porcelain cracked and repaired—yet worse than if the base had been flawed to begin with.

Gu Ning nodded and said: "All I can offer is an apology. Whatever compensation you want, name it—I’ll do my best to fulfill it."

Li Xuewu looked into Gu Ning’s eyes and said: "Since we have no fate in this life, let us mutually let go."

Gu Ning nodded, turned, and led her colleagues away.

After returning to her seat, she didn’t look at Li Xuewu again, responding half-heartedly to a young man beside her dressed in official attire—neither close nor distant.

You pretend not to understand; I pretend to be carefree. Missed, missed—that’s just how people are, after all.

The female military doctor who had interrupted earlier snorted and pouted: "What’s so impressive? You just went to the front line—now you won’t even let anyone mention it?"

The young man speaking to Gu Ning asked: "Who’s that? More arrogant than me? I’ll go give him a piece of my mind."

He rose as if to confront him.

Gu Ning grabbed his arm: "Wei Guo, don’t provoke him. It’s none of your business. Your brother’s coming today."

The young man glanced at Li Xuewu’s build and the scar on his face, then sat down obediently, muttering: "Fine, I’ll listen to you—but don’t scare me with your brother. I’m not a kid anymore. Besides, my brother..."

Before he finished, someone else entered through the door.

Army green, military overcoat, official leather boots. He removed his cap, revealing a handsome face.

Thick eyebrows, large eyes, broad face, high nose bridge—radiating nobility.

At his entrance, everyone at the table rose politely to greet him.

"Brother Wei Min, you’re late! Little Ning’s been waiting anxiously."

The loud young man who had entered earlier, emboldened by the festive atmosphere, goaded the newcomer.

This Wei Min was only twenty-six or twenty-seven—more mature than anyone at the table, and spoke with great poise.

"Sorry to keep you all waiting. I just saw off a senior officer; something came up. Thank you all for coming to welcome me back."

"Brother Wei Min, you’re too polite. We’ve grown up together since childhood. It’s been three or four years—we’re glad to be here."

"Exactly, exactly."

Wei Min urged everyone to sit, then took the seat his brother had vacated, beside Gu Ning.

Seeing Gu Ning’s cold expression from the earlier commotion, Wei Min softly greeted her.

"Three years apart. Are you well? Did you wait too long?"

Gu Ning forced a faint smile: "I’m fine. We just arrived. No problem—it’s just that fool Xiao Cha making a fuss."

Gu Ning remained distant and polite, just as before—neither close nor distant, even to him, the soul of the younger generation in their academy.

He had been young then, fond of playfulness. Now he thought: perhaps it was better to be steady and cautious—even if a little cold.

Back then, Gu Ning had admired him—but he had...

In three years, he had written her countless letters. Not one reply had ever come.

This time, he must seize the opportunity.

Wei Min smiled: "Good to hear."

Wei Min then ordered more dishes and wine, and the table’s atmosphere instantly warmed.

Li Xuewu glanced over once, then turned away, chatting with Lin Tingting about past amusing stories.

Sometimes a joke made Lin Tingting cover her mouth and laugh, slapping Li Xuewu playfully.

Since acquiring this face, Li Xuewu had rarely interacted with women, feeling a touch of shame. Seeing Lin Tingting didn’t care about his scar, he grew more at ease.

In the midst of laughter, he casually took her hand—earning a long, exasperated look from her, but no strong reaction.

I know your heart...

Li Xuewu was a master at climbing poles—though he hadn’t declared his feelings, he had set the tone for their first date.

After all, once there’s a first, there’ll be a second.

Li Xuewu looked at Lin Tingting, raised his drink, and clinked her glass: "Today marks our first official date. May we be blessed with fortune descending from heaven, surprises appearing out of nowhere, miracles emerging from nowhere, and all our hard work finally rewarded."