The Little Surgeon's Guide to the Wheelchair Iceberg Sister - Chapter 2

After her injury, Tao Yuan rarely attended social gatherings like tonight’s. For one, she feared her limited mobility would burden others; for another, she always found such events utterly exhausting.

It was nearly midnight when she returned home. Her two pet cats, having just woken from their slumber, stretched lazily and circled around her incessantly.

Tao Yuan braced herself to transfer into her home wheelchair, then gently stroked the cats from head to tail. Afterward, she went into the bedroom and flung her entire body onto the bed, lying flat on her stomach to relax her stiff, aching back.

Tao Yuan was thirty-one years old and ran a cutting-edge tech company. Still in its startup phase, the firm had only a dozen or so employees.

As the boss, Tao Yuan was hands-on in every aspect, striving to make their products stand out in the ever-changing market.

Even now, lying on the bed, she reviewed a proposal on her phone, quickly marked the issues, and sent it back to her employee. Only then did she finally end her workday.

Due to her physical limitations, Tao Yuan’s nightly bedtime routine took much longer than most people’s: removing makeup, massaging, bathing, and getting into bed. By the time she finished, she was often completely exhausted.

Yet, despite her physical exhaustion, her mind remained trapped in work mode. Her insomnia had started after her injury, and the two years of building her business had only worsened it.

Besides melatonin and Zolpidem, Tao Yuan had found another tool to help her sleep: ASMR, using sound to relax the brain. Her favorite uploader was a creator named “Organic Ox-Horse.”

Organic Ox-Horse posted a new video once a week, each one an hour-long cooking session. Ironically, the uploader’s face never appeared on camera; only a pair of fair hands and an ordinary kitchen were ever shown.

The videos mostly featured home-cooked meals: steamed sea bass, clear-simmered beef short ribs, shrimp with broccoli, steamed egg custard… all common, everyday dishes.

The occasional baking video, however, would spark a collective frenzy among the fans.

From prepping ingredients to stir-frying, Organic Ox-Horse hardly spoke a word. The background sounds—the splash of water, the stirring, the knife slicing through vegetables—formed the main theme of the videos.

The rare cough, laugh, or sigh told Tao Yuan that the uploader was a young woman. She couldn’t explain why, but these mundane sounds brought her a deep sense of peace.

A fan had spotted the uploader’s reflection in a video and posted a screenshot in the comments—a blurry silhouette of a slender girl with shoulder-length hair and a round face. Tao Yuan wasn’t one to judge by looks, but she still liked the girl’s style.

Tonight, as on countless other sleepless nights, Tao Yuan drifted off to sleep to the sound of Organic Ox-Horse’s videos.

The next morning, Tao Yuan woke early and positioned herself at her standing desk to work from home. Meng Zhou often complained that Tao Yuan worked 24/7, but Tao Yuan couldn’t be bothered to argue.

Her legs were numb and powerless. She would usually stand until her waist tingled slightly before settling back into her wheelchair.

But today, before ten minutes had even passed, her work was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Assuming it was a delivery, Tao Yuan slowly lowered herself, smoothly transferring back into her wheelchair. “Just leave it at the door!” she called out. But the knocking continued.

Reluctantly, Tao Yuan opened the door. Before she could even react, a fluffy head of short yellow hair threw itself into her arms. “Taozi, I can’t lose you!”

Another old flame, Tao Yuan sighed, letting the girl into the apartment.

The girl’s name was Ah Huang. They had met by chance at Laba three months ago.

Ah Huang had seen Tao Yuan drinking alone and taken the initiative to strike up a conversation. Tao Yuan, captivated by Ah Huang’s lively and cute demeanor—and the sweet way she kept calling her “Sister”—ended up sleeping with her under the influence of alcohol.

She had originally thought it was just a chance encounter, a mutual agreement between adults to fulfill their physical needs, nothing unusual. After all, since her last relationship ended eight years ago, Tao Yuan had always handled her physical needs this way.

But Ah Huang was a naive college freshman who had just turned eighteen and was experiencing her first love. She was madly in love with Tao Yuan. Tao Yuan had enjoyed the thrill, but now she couldn’t get away.

Seeing Ah Huang crying and sobbing about how much she missed her, Tao Yuan was overcome with guilt. What did Ah Huang do wrong? She’s just pure and devoted. Yet I seem to have lost the ability to love anyone.

I don’t initiate, I don’t refuse, and I don’t take responsibility. She had truly become the ultimate scumbag.

Tao Yuan poured Ah Huang a glass of water. “Stop crying. It’s my fault. How can I make it up to you?”

Ah Huang blew her nose loudly into a tissue and held up one finger. “Repay me with your body. Let’s sleep together again!”

“That’s not enough. Name something else,” Tao Yuan said helplessly.

Ah Huang burst into tears again.

Meanwhile, early Saturday morning, Wu Shuang submitted her application for Chief Resident through the hospital’s internal network. She planned to meet Senior Brother Wang, the current Chief Resident, tomorrow, Sunday, to complete the handover and start her duties as soon as possible.

Back when she was a Resident Physician, Wu Shuang had to pull on-call duty in the ward one or two nights a week, often making do with a quick wash and sleeping in her clothes. However, starting tomorrow night, she would have to be strictly on standby for three consecutive days—Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—taking charge of all surgical consultations at the largest Grade III Class A hospital in the north.

Wu Shuang spent the entire morning packing a change of clothes and daily necessities, lugging them to the hospital in a woven bag with a heavy-duty heave-ho.

During the afternoon visiting hours, Wu Shuang informed the patient in Bed 307 and his family of the results from yesterday’s frozen section biopsy, patiently answering all their questions.

By the time she returned home that evening, Wu Shuang was utterly exhausted. She didn’t even have the energy to cook instant noodles, collapsing into the chair by the dining table and staring at her open-concept kitchen.

Four years ago, she had rented this apartment specifically for its beautiful, bright kitchen. Her greatest wish was to cook healthy meals for her girlfriend every day.

Unfortunately, only half of that wish had come true.

Now, as the soon-to-be Chief Resident, she felt she was getting a terrible deal on this year’s rent.

But if this home had another female owner, everything would be different. For some reason, Wu Shuang thought of Taozi, recalling her exceptionally bright eyes…

She opened the “7.12 Birthday Celebration for Meng Zhou” group chat, which she had muted, and was immediately hit with 99+ unread messages. Instead of scrolling up to read them, Wu Shuang simply looked at the members’ profile pictures, trying to match them with the people in her mind.

Which one is Taozi?

Wu Shuang searched for a long time but came up empty. The reason was simple: out of the ten people in the group, only she and Meng Zhou were using real photos as their profile pictures. Just as she was scrolling back through the chat history to see everyone’s messages, a private message popped up:

“Dr. Xiao Wu, are you done with your overtime today?” The sender was A Qing, a new friend she had added at the party.

Wu Shuang liked A Qing. She was beautiful and very caring. So, she chatted back and forth with A Qing for a while until they both said goodnight.

She might have to pull another all-nighter at the hospital tomorrow for the handover, so after saying goodnight, Wu Shuang immediately washed up, got into bed, and fell fast asleep.

The next morning, Wu Shuang received a work-related message. Director Qin of the Breast and Thyroid Surgery Department had publicly praised her in the surgical department’s hundred-person group chat for “accepting the mission at a critical moment.” This made her even more reluctant to slack off. She threw on her clothes and rushed straight to the hospital’s on-call room, skipping breakfast entirely.

As soon as she stepped into the Breast and Thyroid Surgery on-call room, she heard Xiao Meng, a resident physician, call out to her, “Director Wu!”

The room was cramped, containing only a bunk bed and a desk. As the Chief Resident, Wu Shuang was entitled to a permanent bed. She quickly climbed up to the top bunk and put on her own special bedding a three-piece set covered in little floral rabbits.

“Wait, Director Wu, is this your kindergarten’s training blanket?” Xiao Meng mocked her childishness.

Wu Shuang scoffed and ignored him.

Xiao Meng continued his impertinence: “I can see you’re settling in for the long haul, Director Wu. I wish you only one wake-up call per night on duty.”

“Oh, really? You dare laugh at me? I’ll beat you to death!” Wu Shuang pretended to be angry, grabbing the pillow from the top bunk and smashing it down on his head.

At noon, as planned, she had lunch with Senior Brother Wang, the outgoing Chief Resident. He was in high spirits and had a voracious appetite; a bowl of noodles wasn’t enough, so he ordered a basin of spicy stir-fry pot.

With his mouth stuffed full, Senior Brother Wang said, “This past year has been so exhausting that I’ve developed stress-induced obesity. Luckily, you’re thin enough, Junior Sister. There’s plenty of room for you to gain some stress weight, hahaha…”

Before they could finish their meal, Senior Brother Wang’s dedicated Chief Resident pager went off. It was the Emergency Department requesting a Surgical Resident Chief for a consultation on a patient vomiting blood.

“Oh man, another one! That’s the second one today. I’ve gotta go! I’ll get back to you and hand over the case after my surgery… Junior Sister, I haven’t touched these dishes, you should eat them all and nourish yourself. By the time I get off work today, you’ll be the one answering the phone, hahaha…”

Wu Shuang prayed for herself as she teared up, eating her last few proper meals of the year. She glanced at her phone and saw her group chat had 99+ messages. Opening it, she found several identical messages:

“Sister Peach, look at me, I’m available!”

Wu Shuang’s vision went dark.

Looking closer, she realized several people were repeating the same message, all because a user named TY with a cat avatar had posted: “I can’t find a girlfriend either.”

This person must be Peach, she thought.

Wu Shuang clicked on TY’s profile and saw a background image of a calico cat stretching in front of some greenery, its eyes squinted in pure bliss. The avatar was another calico cat with large green eyes, tilting its head curiously at the screen, looking adorably goofy.

Since TY had admitted to being single, Wu Shuang decided to add Peach as a friend. Chatting with her might give her a chance to pursue the beautiful woman.

Wu Shuang was proactive by nature, approaching romance with sincerity and passion, but she also tended to fall head-over-heels easily. She was captivated not only by Taozi’s beauty but also by her straightforward, no-nonsense way of speaking. It was truly love at first sight, and she was completely smitten.

However, a system notification informed her that she couldn’t add friends through the group chat.

Wu Shuang pouted, put away her phone, cleared the leftovers, and returned to the on-call room. It was mid-afternoon. She resolved to make a good impression on the beauty by being active in the group chat whenever she had the chance.

Lying on the hard bed in the on-call room, she waited for her senior brother to call her after his surgery. She tried to nap, but her excitement and anxiety kept her wide awake.

Just before 1:30 PM, Wu Shuang gave up and sat up. She couldn’t help but send Xiao Shu a message: Hey, let me ask you something. Does Taozi have a girlfriend? Do I still have a chance? [Pleading Face] [Pleading Face]

Xiao Shu: What the hell? You like Taozi?!

Wu Shuang: Yes!

Xiao Shu: Uh, don’t you like A Qing? She’s your official ship.

Wu Shuang: What? Who shipped us?

Xiao Shu: Me.

Wu Shuang: [ Sticker: Hitting You ]

Xiao Shu: You don’t stand a chance. Taozi only likes butch lesbians.

Wu Shuang: ?!!

Wu Shuang: I’m a butch.

Xiao Shu: ……

Before Wu Shuang could even process this information, Xiao Shu sent her a voice message:

“Xiao Wu, oh Xiao Wu, why do you like Taozi? It’s mostly because she’s so beautiful. I knew it, you’re such a sucker for looks…”

“Although Taozi is Meng Zhou’s good friend, I have to be honest with you: she’s pretty unreliable. I won’t get into the details, but in the two years I’ve been with Meng Zhou, I’ve seen her change partners at least five times. They were all the same type, short-haired, butch lesbians…”

“I don’t mean anything by this, I just think she’s too much of a player for you… Don’t tell Meng Zhou I said this…”

Wu Shuang felt a wave of nausea as she listened to the voice message. The girl she had just started to like had been branded a player by her own friend. She didn’t know whether to be angry or heartbroken, and for a moment, she was at a loss for how to reply.

Her mind racing, Wu Shuang mindlessly opened Bilibili on her phone, hoping to distract herself and change her mood.

This was her third year as a Bilibili uploader. Her food account, “Organic Ox-Horse,” already had 160,000 followers, many of whom enjoyed using her videos as ASMR for stress relief and sleep.

Since she only posted her daily cooking and never showed her face or spoke, some of her shots were edited into fan-made videos as hand models or b-roll. She found this quite amusing.

Today, there were two new comments. One read: “I ran into you, Ma’am, and your garlic eggplant in this guy’s video [doge face].” A video link followed.

The other comment was from a very familiar user named Qiyue Liuhuo, a fan who frequently left messages. The comment had been posted at 7:00 AM yesterday: Last night, Little Cow’s voice accompanied me to sleep again.

“Little Cow” was the affectionate nickname fans had given to Organic Ox-Horse.

Wu Shuang immediately replied: Hee hee hee, love you!

Wu Shuang did some quick mental math and realized her backlog of recorded videos was nearly empty. She had filmed them all after returning home from her night shifts, as she couldn’t find anyone to go out with on workdays and was afraid that napping during the day would ruin her sleep at night.

A single video usually took three to four hours to record, which she would then edit down to about one hour.

Although she had initially started cooking to cope with the heartache of a breakup, she had kept it up for three years. Becoming a video creator had taken on a special meaning for Wu Shuang.

Her mother had always told her that when she was unhappy, she should focus even more on living in the moment. Eat well.

Wu Shuang climbed out of bed, found her computer, and sat at her desk to upload the second-to-last video of the year. With a touch of sadness, she added the caption: Due to my miserable job, I’ll be taking a one-year hiatus starting next week. I hope everyone has a fulfilling life and good sleep!

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