TYSUF – Chapter 14 The Moon Rises with the Tide (4)

It would be nice if there was even a hint of sound in the room, but there was none. The hallway was quiet as well.

The carpet on the ship could swallow footsteps. Even if someone ran past, it would never disturb the two people here.

She and he locked eyes.

“Follow…” she softly repeated. “How exactly do I follow?”

“What do you think?” He, on the other hand, smiled.

Shen Xi was afraid she might have misunderstood, but their hands had been resting together for so long—it had to mean something.

“Third Brother, do you have… a concubine at home?”

Fu Tongwen chuckled and shook his head.

“In these past few years, has your family arranged any other engagements for you?”

He shook his head again.

He had wanted to say he wanted a modern kind of romance, one that gave the girl freedom, like Tan Qingxiang’s, but he couldn’t say it outright. If the infamous Third Young Master of the Fu family dared to say something like “no strings attached,” there was a ninety-nine percent chance it would be taken as an invitation for a fleeting night of pleasure—maybe even several.

The reputation he had accepted all these years would turn against him today. And he could only blame himself.

Seeing that she remained silent, he asked, “Is there anything else you want to ask?”

This time, she was the one who shook her head.

“Third Brother is—” He paused, then smiled. “Not exactly a good man, but not too bad either. You might as well give it a try.”

He had walked through a thousand grand feasts, seen countless beautiful women, drifting blossoms and fleeting pleasures. Yet today, here he was, lowering himself to such an extent—for a single girl.

Shen Xi dared not look at him. She glanced at the floor, then at the blanket, where a single strand of her hair had fallen. She thought, later, she should pick it up, loop it into a circle, and tie a knot.

As she thought about it, she let out a soft “mm,” the sound barely escaping her throat, her ears burning.

She had agreed.

Somehow, she muddled through a few more words with Fu Tongwen, then drifted into sleep.

“Alright, I’ll turn off the light now.”

“Okay.”

The light was extinguished.

Fu Tongwen placed her under the blanket before walking back to his side of the bed and lying down. The bed shifted slightly, and her body trembled in response. Fortunately, he said nothing more.

So this was it. This was what it meant to be in love.

Such a significant event, yet the two of them exchanged only a handful of words—none of them explicit. But then she thought, this was a new era. Falling in love wasn’t such a big deal. It wasn’t the previous dynasty anymore.

Still, she felt unsettled.

That night, she dreamed. Dreamed of his face and eyes bathed in lamplight, like the night train that had carried her to Beijing. She had squeezed into the doorway, surrounded by unfamiliar travelers. When she got off, it was at Zhengyangmen.

A simple wooden sign bore a few letters, which she hadn’t recognized at the time.

It was only after moving to New York that she pieced them together. PEKING.

The train station had been teeming with people. She had followed the crowd, trailing behind the stranger who had guided her. Outside the wooden barriers, a throng of rickshaws and mule carts waited to take passengers. She had taken a rickshaw. That day, there had only been two rickshaws outside the station, and she had taken one of them.

Piece by piece, she pieced together her journey of escape from that year.

At dawn, Fu Tongwen drew back the curtains and went to the bathroom. He emerged shortly after.

Shen Xi also slipped out of bed, still groggy, and freshened up. After drying her face, she rolled up the towel, preparing to place it beside the sink. She liked doing this—it made her feel clean, even though fresh, warm towels were replaced daily.

As she was halfway through rolling the towel, he left the room first.

A new day began, no different from the ones before.

Dr. Tan, ever since being caught by her last night, had instead become more open. He finally brought his girlfriend of half a month to the private deck. Between lovers who had already shared intimacy, every gesture was filled with warmth. They maintained a polite distance for about half an hour before Tan Qingxiang pulled his girlfriend into his arms, and the two of them lounged together on the recliner, sharing the freshly delivered fruit.

Shen Xi and Fu Tongwen, in contrast, were even more proper than usual. She read the book Tan Qingxiang had brought, while he flipped through the newly delivered newspaper.

At most, when she reached for her teacup, he would push it slightly forward for her.

Her heart was restless, while he remained utterly composed.

The difference between them was stark.

At eleven o’clock, the butler handed over a calling card, saying that among today’s new passengers, there was also a Chinese traveler heading to Shanghai. Having heard about the skilled surgeon on board, the person had sent up their card.

Fu Tongwen took it. The card bore the name of Shanghai Renji Hospital.

Since they had come to visit Shen Xi, he handed her the business card. “You take a look.”

“There shouldn’t be any issues, right?” It was Shen Xi’s first time being visited by someone. She wanted to meet them but was also afraid of causing trouble.

“They boarded midway; it shouldn’t be a big deal,” Tan Qingxiang reassured her.

“Then let’s meet them.” She brightened up.

Meeting fellow professionals was far easier than figuring out how to navigate a romantic relationship.

Two people came.

One was blond with blue eyes, and the other was a Chinese man with black hair.

The Chinese man was tall, around thirty years old, and wearing sunglasses, giving off the air of an overseas student. Upon seeing the people in the room, he took off his sunglasses and warmly introduced himself. His name was Qian Yuan, a doctor at Renji Hospital. The person beside him was both his colleague and former classmate. Shen Xi had already been briefed by Tan Qingxiang about the standing of Peking Union Medical College and Shanghai Renji Hospital in China. She held great respect for this senior figure.

Coming across fellow countrymen on a long journey, and colleagues at that, quickly brought Tan Qingxiang into the conversation.

“The ship’s doctor mentioned he had never met a Chinese Western medicine doctor before,” Shen Xi said with a smile. “Now that you’re here, that makes one more.”

“The blind men feeling the elephant. He’s been at sea for ten years—how many Chinese people could he have met?” Qian Yuan smiled. “Westerners’ preconceived notions will change over time.”

Yes, things would change. Shen Xi couldn’t help but glance at Fu Tongwen.

Fu Tongwen sat politely to the side and lifted his teacup slightly toward her, signaling that he was listening.

A small, subtle gesture that only she noticed.

“Miss Shen, why did you choose to study medicine?” Qian Yuan asked casually.

“Because… I’m from Guangdong, so I was exposed to Western medicine early on.”

“That makes sense,” Qian Yuan nodded with a smile. “Western medicine in China developed in that region, including Macau. Did you go to Western clinics when you were a child?”

Shen Xi nodded.

“Miss Shen, let me get straight to the point. My colleague here was invited by the captain to examine your patient after boarding. He believes you did an excellent job and would like to meet you in person. He also wants to ask about your plans after returning to China—whether you’d be interested in joining Renji Hospital.”

The British doctor added, “Miss Shen, China has yet to establish a dedicated orthopedic department, but Renji already has considerable experience in this field. In fact, our hospital has long been at the forefront of Western medicine in China, especially in surgery.”

“Orthopedics is still in its infancy, so you might consider further training with my colleague. At Renji, we pioneered the use of surgical antiseptic techniques—the first in China to do so.”

Shen Xi was taken aback. “Thank you, but I…” She looked at Tan Qingxiang, uncertain. “I’m just a recent graduate. Your offer makes me feel quite unworthy.”

The two men exchanged smiles.

Qian Yuan explained, “Too few medical students return to China, and even fewer specialize in surgery. We need more young doctors.”

Shen Xi nodded, starting to understand.

“This ship is bound for Shanghai. May I ask where your final destination is?”

Shen Xi turned to look at Fu Tongwen. “Beijing.”

“Oh, Beijing,” Qian Yuan frowned slightly, clearly disappointed. “Miss Shen, is your home in Beijing?”

Shen Xi hesitated.

“She’s my wife,” Fu Tongwen answered for her.

“I see.” Qian Yuan’s disappointment deepened.

At first, he was worried that this rare returning medical student might end up at Peking Union Medical College. But now, it seemed she had merely studied abroad for leisure. Judging by this private deck, Mr. Fu’s family was clearly wealthy—his wife wouldn’t need to work in the public eye.

Nevertheless, both men highly appreciated Shen Xi and continued their conversation for a long while. When Tan Qingxiang mentioned medical book translations, Qian Yuan immediately took out a set of treasured copies and presented them. “These aren’t early original prints, just hand-copied versions. Consider them souvenirs.”

The books included Chinese Medical Dictionary, Introduction to Western Medicine, and New Insights into Women and Infants, all early translations published by Renji. Tan Qingxiang had refrained from showing his excitement earlier, but as soon as the guests left, he eagerly picked up the dictionary. “This was published during the Xianfeng era—a genuine first-generation Western medical translation!” He enthusiastically explained to Shen Xi.

It would be incredibly helpful for his work in cardiology translations.

Just as Tan Qingxiang finished speaking, Qian Yuan returned, apologetically tipping his hat and smiling at Shen Xi. “I forgot to mention—I’ve just written a request to our hospital director. We might soon acquire an X-ray machine. If you ever continue in this field and need it, feel free to write to me. I can arrange for your patients to have priority access at Renji.”

“Thank you,” Shen Xi was moved by his dedication as a doctor and nodded in gratitude.

Qian Yuan smiled, took her hand, and placed a light kiss on the back of it. “It’s an honor.”

His gesture was so natural that, although Shen Xi was startled, she didn’t have the heart to stop him. The moment his lips brushed her hand, she quickly withdrew it, considering the courtesy fulfilled.

“Mr. Fu, you don’t mind, do you?” Qian Yuan turned to look at Fu Tongwen.

Fu Tongwen toyed with his teacup and smiled. “Just this once.”

Qian Yuan didn’t take his words too seriously. “My apologies again. I’ll take my leave now.”

The visitors departed.

Tan Qingxiang, entirely uninterested in their exchange, ignored them. Even his own girlfriend was momentarily forgotten as he eagerly immersed himself in the books.

The deck was quiet.

Fu Tongwen placed the empty teacup on the table, slid both hands into the pockets of his trousers, and left.

Seeing him leave, Shen Xi couldn’t sit still either. Half a minute later, she hastily threw out a sentence, “Take your time reading,” before chasing after him. When she couldn’t find him along the way, she asked the steward, who informed her that he had gone to the first-class library.

There were only two libraries on the ship. The first-class one was exclusive to first-class passengers, while the second-class library was open to all passengers from first, second, and third class.

Since the first-class library was exclusive, and passengers could simply request books from a list to be delivered by the steward, there was rarely a need to go there in person.

Chinese people preferred bookshelves that allowed light to pass through—simple wooden racks holding thick books. Westerners, on the other hand, favored heavy, grand bookshelves, with books arranged inside like exquisite decorative pieces, complementing the towering shelves that reached the ceiling.

The first time Shen Xi entered a university library, the first thought that popped into her mind was: If this thing collapsed, it would be a disaster—no one would escape. Ever since then, she felt a sense of oppression whenever she entered a library.

It was the same here. The space was empty, making it feel even heavier.

Her heart tightened as she glanced around, searching.

It wasn’t until she reached the far end of the library that she saw him—not reading, not holding a book, but with his suit casually folded in half and stuffed onto an empty shelf. His arms were propped against the bookshelf, his head lowered, staring at the floor.

“Are you feeling unwell?” Shen Xi walked up to him.

Fu Tongwen turned his head slightly.

His eyes lacked light, unfocused at first. Slowly, as his thoughts gathered, his gaze sharpened, and he finally took in his surroundings—including her.

“I’m fine,” he said.

He was not fine, Shen Xi thought.

She leaned against the bookshelf beside him, near his arm. “Are you upset?”

Fu Tongwen shook his head.

“Come here,” he said, raising his right arm.

She leaned forward, slipping underneath it. He then placed his arms on either side of her, blocking her in.

In this vast library, he had drawn a small circle just for her—narrow and confined.

She held her breath, afraid even her breathing would touch his face.

“A moment ago, I thought of Tongchuan.”

So that was it, she thought.

“Renchai used to help opium addicts,” he murmured. “He often mentioned it.”

“Fourth Master…” Shen Xi fell silent for a moment before asking, “You were reading medical journals because you were thinking of Fourth Master?”

He smiled, silently confirming it.

She wasn’t good at comforting people, but she wanted to try. “Back in New York, when we met again, what did you have me call you?”

“Third Brother.”

“Then, just like how I called you ‘Third Brother’ back then, I’ll do just as well now,” she said, as if making a vow.

He remained quiet, smiling.

“Would you undo my tie for me?” he asked.

Shen Xi didn’t quite understand what he meant.

If he felt uncomfortable, then he should just leave—there was no need to stay in this place.

Still confused, she obediently loosened his tie and unfastened the top button of his shirt.

By the time she had done this…

His tie hung loosely, his collar slack.

It was as if someone had placed a pearl on a jade plate, tilting it side to side. The pearl rolled from one end to the other, then back again.

Her heart was that pearl—rolling, swaying, never finding an edge to stop at.

How many nights had pipa music filled the upper floors, the scent of incense lingering over embroidered quilts and round silk fans? He had always been the one watching from the audience.

But here and now, he was the one stepping onto the stage.

Just like in the opera lyrics:

“… Circling this peony railing, leaning against the rock by the lake, loosening your collar, untying your sash… let me hold onto you and savor this tender warmth for just a little while longer.”

“This… is quite improper,” he murmured with a smile, his voice lowering as he suddenly tilted his head down, capturing her lips—her lower lip.

A thunderclap exploded in her mind, sparks flashing before her eyes.

She had no time to evade. Caught off guard, her fingers clutched the front of his shirt, twisting it into deep creases.

“Third Brother…”

But before she could finish, his tongue slipped into her mouth.

This kind of intimate indulgence was like a pair of hands lighting a stick of incense, luring one to shed their layers, to lay down intertwined…

His hand rested on the bookshelf.

His body pressed against hers.

His lips and tongue entangled with hers.

So this was a kiss?

Wet, dizzying, drenched in light, filled with heady fragrance…

Or perhaps, it was simply that he was different from everyone else.

His suit slipped from the shelf onto the floor.

Shen Xi couldn’t take it—her legs weakened, and she nearly slid down as well.

He caught her, one hand grasping her waist, lifting her back up.

Her dress rode up to her knees, his hand slipping beneath it, resting against her thigh.

A wave of dizziness swept over her, as if the entire library were collapsing, bookshelves crashing down around her, burying everything in an avalanche.

She opened her eyes—everything was just as before.

Except for the deepening kiss.