Chapter 124 I Don’t Like the Kind of Sweets Girls Like

In the office, Leng Keyan stood somewhat awkwardly in front of the desk.

“Teacher Song, you wanted to see me?”

Song Jingmo looked up from the computer, pushing his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose.

His tone was as calm as ever: “I have a few complicated surgeries to perform at the Second Hospital later, not suitable for your learning.”

He handed Leng Keyan a printed surgery schedule. “For the next few days, you’ll follow other teachers for their operations.”

He circled a few items on the schedule with his pen. “These are moderately difficult, covering comprehensive basic procedures. They’ll help you consolidate your knowledge.”

Leng Keyan took the schedule. When the name Yin Siyao came into view, his fingers curled ever so slightly.

Song Jingmo noticed the subtle reaction immediately. “Feelings are feelings, work is work. When you wear this white coat, your eyes should only be on the patient.”

“Do not let personal emotions affect your judgment. This is responsibility to yourself and, more importantly, to the patient’s life.”

A trace of embarrassment flickered across Leng Keyan’s face, but he nodded earnestly. “I’ll adjust my mindset and focus properly on these surgeries with Teacher Yin.”

In the operating room, the surgical lights cast a cold, bright glow.

Yin Siyao was performing the operation, dressed in green scrubs. His mask and cap left only his focused, calm eyes visible.

As an intern, Leng Keyan stood slightly behind.

Instrument nurse Sister Wang was cheerful. While efficiently preparing instruments, she spoke to Leng Keyan: “Feels like ages since I last saw you at Dr. Yin’s table.”

Leng Keyan replied in a low voice, “I was afraid of causing trouble for Teacher Yin. Today, Teacher Song went to the Second Hospital, so he arranged for me to join this surgery with Teacher Yin.”

His words were polite, but perceptive Sister Wang could tell there was some awkwardness behind them.

Smiling, she said, “Oh, don’t talk about trouble. You’re so sweet and obedient, Dr. Yin probably likes you to bits!”

Dr. Zhang, the first assistant, chimed in: “Exactly. You’re like the hospital’s favorite. No other intern gets treatment like yours.”

“Not only does Dr. Song personally guide you, even when he’s busy, he can arrange an excellent young backbone like Dr. Yin to take over. What resources, tsk tsk…”

Everyone chatted, praising how much care and attention Yin Siyao usually gave Leng Keyan.

He taught suturing by hand, patiently explained surgical points, and even brought snacks during night shifts.

Leng Keyan listened quietly, a mix of emotions welling inside.

The details he had tried to ignore or forget now resurfaced, each like a fine needle pricking his heart—painful and overwhelming.

To others, Yin Siyao’s care for him was indeed special.

But in reality, under the weight of responsibility, that uniqueness seemed so fragile, so easily shattered.

Just as Leng Keyan’s mind wandered, the monitor suddenly blared an alarming beep.

“Blood pressure dropped! 80/50!”

Instantly, the operating room tensed to the extreme.

“Increase the IV rate! Prepare the vasopressors!”

Yin Siyao’s voice was calm and swift. His hands never paused.

The sudden change made everyone busier; instrument passing sped up.

When passing a scalpel, Leng Keyan, nervous and flustered, reacted half a beat too late and reached for it hastily.

“Careful!”

A deep, stern shout rang out.

Almost simultaneously, Yin Siyao, focused on the surgery, struck his hand sideways with astonishing speed.

“Clack!”

The scalpel, nearly causing an accident, fell to the floor with a crisp sound.

Leng Keyan’s face went pale with fright.

Yin Siyao lifted his head; through the mask, his eyes—usually warm and gentle—were icy.

His tone was unprecedentedly stern: “Leng Keyan, if you don’t want to work, then leave. Were you trying to kill the patient or yourself by daydreaming in the OR?”

This was the first time Yin Siyao had addressed him by full name with such severity.

Leng Keyan trembled all over, tears filling his eyes. He lowered his head and stammered, “S-Sorry, Teacher Yin… I won’t lose focus again.”

The surgery finally concluded without further incident.

Stepping out of the OR, Leng Keyan still felt his legs were weak.

Dr. Zhang patted his shoulder. “Don’t take it to heart. Dr. Yin was just worried—he cares about you.”

“That patient just now had tertiary syphilis, with pathological fractures and joint deformities,” Zhang continued.

Leng Keyan’s eyes widened in shock and fear.

“If Dr. Yin hadn’t acted quickly, the risk of you being injured and infected would have been extremely high. And he still managed to keep an eye on you during that emergency. Amazing.”

“You’re lucky. If it had been a chief surgeon only focused on the operation, who would have bothered about you?”

“And if their attention split and a mistake happened, that would’ve been a lawsuit,” Zhang teased.

“You brat, aren’t you going to buy something to thank Dr. Yin for saving your life?”

Yin Siyao was kind, but ultimately, he didn’t belong to Leng Keyan.

His chest tight with frustration, Leng Keyan bought Yin Siyao’s favorite little cakes and mustered courage to approach his office.

At dusk, the sunset bathed the office in a warm, gentle orange glow.

Yin Siyao sat at his desk, head down, focused on writing medical records.

The golden light highlighted his handsome profile, giving him a tranquil beauty.

Leng Keyan stood at the door, momentarily frozen.

“What is it?”

Without looking up, Yin Siyao’s cold voice broke the quiet.

Snapping back to reality, Leng Keyan stepped forward and gently placed the delicate cake box on the desk’s corner.

Nervously, he said, “Teacher Yin, thank you for earlier… this is for you.”

Yin Siyao paused typing and looked at the cake box, its cute logo staring back.

His gaze was indifferent.

“No need to thank me,” he said.

“I was instructed by Jingmo before he left, so naturally I would take extra care of you.”

He returned to the records, voice distant: “You can take the cake to someone else. I don’t like these kinds of sweets that girls usually enjoy.”

Leng Keyan stared blankly at the cake, then at Yin Siyao’s cold profile.

Doesn’t like them?

Sweets that girls like?

Yin Siyao had praised these very cakes before, saying they were sweet but not cloying, very delicious.

Why now?

Did he have to deny and abandon even his own tastes?

A wave of grievance and loss surged through Leng Keyan, far stronger than the scolding in the OR.

“Oh… sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Not wanting to make him angry or appear more pitiful, Leng Keyan quietly picked up the cake and left the office, heart heavy.

Only Yin Siyao remained, slowly lifting his head to watch the vibrant sunset.

In his eyes, unseen by anyone, were struggles and pain.