The Little Surgeon's Guide to the Wheelchair Iceberg Sister - Chapter 5

Tao Yuan woke up with her back feeling completely stiff. In her mind’s eye, a rough, splintered piece of wood was embedded in her spine, and the slightest movement would tear the surrounding flesh to bloody shreds, leaving her body covered in wounds.

The injury was located in her lower back. After several surgeries, the deformity in her spine had been largely corrected, but the paralysis from the waist down remained.

The doctors said it would likely be with her for the rest of her life.

Her legs were limp and powerless, already starting to atrophy from disuse, and they had no sensation to external stimuli. Yet, sometimes, a sudden, inexplicable nerve pain would strike, feeling like an electric shock or a knife cut, radiating from the base of her thighs down to the soles of her feet.

Other times, it was just a simple numbness, its location so vague it was hard to even describe.

Tao Yuan used her hands to prop up her upper body, forcing herself to sit up. The sharp pain in her back intensified, and she had to stop moving, leaning against the headboard to wait for the wave of agony to pass.

As she did, she rubbed her waist with one hand and picked up her phone with the other, checking her unread WeChat messages to distract herself.

The staff on duty in the work group had reported in safely. Xiao Liu, the company’s legal counsel, had sent over the first draft of the cooperation agreement about to be signed with Jinda University. Axiao, the programmer, had rewritten a portion of the code for the new features.

The prospect of a future collaboration with the university seemed to lift Tao Yuan’s spirits.

By the time she had replied to all the urgent messages, half an hour had passed. The sharp pain in her back had mostly subsided, so she transferred herself into the wheelchair, planning to have a quick breakfast before heading out.

Tao Yuan lived in a high-end residential complex near the Emerging Technology Industrial Park, in a spacious ground-floor apartment. Outside the south-facing balcony was a small courtyard, loosely enclosed by a wooden fence.

When Tao Yuan entered the living room, her two cats, Huahua and Maomao, were meowing at an uninvited guest outside the glass door—a tiny orange kitten, only a few months old and a full size smaller than Huahua and Maomao.

Tao Yuan slid the glass door to the courtyard open just a crack, and Huahua immediately darted out.

The stray kitten, startled by Huahua’s sudden appearance, bolted through the fence and vanished, leaving Huahua standing motionless in the center of the courtyard, staring fixedly at the fence.

Maomao, more cautious and clingy, had missed its owner after a whole night apart. It purred softly against her leg, seeking affection.

Just as Tao Yuan took her first sip of coffee, a WeChat message arrived from Xiao Shu.

Xiao Shu: I was busy celebrating my girlfriend’s birthday this weekend, so I didn’t have a chance to ask. Did you find any girls you liked last Friday? (smirk)

TY: No.

Xiao Shu: No way! Go check the group chat. Girls are confessing their feelings to you there every single day!

Tao Yuan opened the “July 12th Mengzhou Birthday Celebration” group, which she had set to do not disturb. Three days of messages had piled up to over 999+. She never had the patience to scroll back through old chats, and the mere thought of someone confessing to her made her scalp tingle with stress.

So, Tao Yuan just hummed a noncommittal “Mm-hmm” to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

Xiao Shu: What does “Mm-hmm” mean? (giggle)

TY: Nothing.

Xiao Shu: By the way, what do you think of Xiao Wu?

Tao Yuan was just about to wash her empty coffee cup when she saw this. Her movements paused. “Is that the doctor from Jinda First Affiliated Hospital? I had dinner with her yesterday.”

Xiao Shu: !!! She contacted you first?!

TY: No, she was the one who performed the surgery for a sick employee at the company.

Xiao Shu: What a coincidence!

Xiao Shu’s inner gossip-monger was ignited. She fired off a barrage of questions, asking about Tao Yuan’s feelings for Xiao Wu, the details of their “date,” and any future plans…

Tao Yuan facepalmed repeatedly, replying only with a brief, “It was fine.”

With a mountain of work still to tackle, he had no energy to indulge Xiao Shu’s gossip-hungry curiosity. He stowed his phone, gathered his things, and headed into the office.

Meanwhile, Wu Shuang was in high spirits after finally getting a full night’s sleep, pushing the unpleasantness of yesterday’s encounter with Taozi to the back of her mind. Yet, the memory of Taozi’s mocking expression still flashed through her head, making her blush with anger. She couldn’t help but stomp her foot twice as she walked.

Her rented apartment was a thirty-minute subway ride from the hospital, which was still within the normal commute range for a first-tier city like Jin City. Though the straight-line distance was only five kilometers, the gap between the prime school district in the city center and the surrounding educational wasteland was vast, as was the difference in rent. Wu Shuang had just started her career, and her income wasn’t yet enough to afford both a beautiful open-concept kitchen and a shorter commute.

Today was Tuesday, and with no new patients admitted, Wu Shuang’s workload was relatively light. After a month of her guidance, the resident physician, Xiao Meng, could now independently write routine medical orders. Wu Shuang had also completed the preoperative consultations for the surgical patients during her breaks from the weekend shift.

The only thing left to do was head straight to the operating room for the day’s first procedure: a breast tumor excision.

By the time Wu Shuang entered the OR, the patient was already on the table. Her skin was a flawless, creamy white, her flesh firm and full, every inch of her radiating youth.

As Wu Shuang applied the antiseptic in concentric circles around the surgical site, her mind drifted back to their preoperative consultation.

The patient was twenty-eight, a bank employee. A routine check-up for her new job had revealed a mass in her left breast, which she’d noticed growing over the past six months.

“Bed 311, did your family not come with you?”

“Can’t I just do this on my own?” Bed 311 had countered. Her short, sharp haircut and the hospital gown did little to hide her natural beauty.

“It’s not that you can’t, but it’s always best to have family here,” Wu Shuang had replied, her voice softening with a touch of sympathy.

“You said yesterday that local anesthesia has no real risks…”

“I only said the risk is relatively lower than general anesthesia,” Wu Shuang corrected.

“Director Lan said there’s a 99% chance this is benign, and that it’ll be over once it’s cut out,” Bed 311 said, her tone direct.

“Yes, it will likely be finished very quickly…”

On the operating table, however, as Director Lan and Wu Shuang dissected the tumor layer by layer, a thin sheen of sweat broke out on Wu Shuang’s forehead. The tumor’s appearance was not what she had expected.

The tumor couldn’t be completely removed, so they sent a sample for an intraoperative frozen section biopsy. This would allow a pathologist to quickly determine whether the mass was benign or malignant, providing a critical basis for the next steps of the surgery.

Because the patient was under local anesthesia, she could hear the medical staff’s conversation. Director Lan and Wu Shuang chose to sit by the operating table, quietly awaiting the pathology results. They didn’t say a word about the surgery, so as to avoid adding to the patient’s psychological burden.

In the thick, silent air, time seemed to drag on. It felt as if an eternity had passed before the phone in the operating room suddenly rang.

The assistant answered the phone and passed the receiver to Director Lan. He frowned at Wu Shuang, and her heart sank: This was a sign of malignancy.

What followed was a simple suturing, returning the patient to her ward, and immediately preparing for further examinations to determine a new treatment plan.

Wu Shuang was young and fresh out of school, her experience still limited. When faced with this unexpected turn of events, her first reaction was guilt—why hadn’t she anticipated the possibility of malignancy? She had been so reassuring when explaining the situation to the patient. Could she, so young and inexperienced, handle such a sudden change in the patient’s condition?

Director Lan, with his years of experience, seemed to sense her anxiety. He offered a comforting word.

“Actually, the more you do, the more cautious you become. Look at this patient’s ultrasound results—they weren’t this bad at all. Who could have guessed it would look like this once we opened her up?”

Wu Shuang nodded. As she changed out of her scrubs, her mind was still racing, worrying about how to break the news to the patient in Bed 311. But when she returned to the doctors’ office and saw the new intern’s medical records—a complete mess—she felt a strange sense of relief.

Isn’t this how doctors grow? Through these very mistakes?

The intern, who had been visibly nervous, relaxed a bit when he saw the mix of frustration and amusement on Wu Shuang’s face.

Xiao Meng took the initiative to grab steaming hot meals from the cafeteria. The three of them sat together to eat, and Wu Shuang felt the tension in her nerves slowly begin to unwind.

Before the end of her shift, after finishing her duties in Breast and Thyroid Surgery, Wu Shuang went to the Emergency Department as usual to change Duan Zhixin’s dressing.

Wu Shuang was in no mood to be patient with Duan Zhixin, given her unpleasant history with his boss and the day’s string of mishaps.

“Duan Zhixin! On your computer again? Lie flat, now! Don’t blame me if the dressing change hurts later!”

Duan Zhixin immediately shut his laptop and lay down obediently, though he kept chatting. “It won’t hurt, will it? Little Dr. Wu is always so gentle.”

As Wu Shuang changed the dressing, Duan Zhixin continued his non-stop commentary. “I feel great now. I passed gas yesterday. This is definitely the most immediate-effect surgery I’ve ever had.”

“Little Dr. Wu, you look so young. How are you so tough? Ouch, that hurts a little…”

“All gone now. Your hands are truly skilled. I’ll have my boss send you a commemorative banner! You won’t think I’m old-fashioned, will you? I just look a bit older than I am. I was actually born in the nineties…”

“Little Dr. Wu, how do you know my boss?”

At this, Wu Shuang shot him a glare, and Duan Zhixin instantly fell silent.

“Alright, a nurse will handle your dressing changes from now on,” Wu Shuang said, peeling off her gloves with professional detachment. “I’ll be back on the seventh postoperative day to remove your stitches and process your discharge papers.”

“Ah, so I won’t see you tomorrow?” Duan Zhixin asked, his voice tinged with a hint of grievance. After fasting for several days before and after the surgery, he had lost enough weight to reveal a sharp jawline. His dark eyes, framed by his now-more-defined features, actually made him look quite handsome.

Unfortunately, Wu Shuang remained completely unmoved. She simply pushed the dressing cart away and left.

Duan Zhixin, a lifelong bachelor and a total masochist, found that Wu Shuang’s “fierceness” didn’t deter him in the slightest. Instead, it only made him more infatuated.

Pulling his laptop from under the covers, he typed out two more lines of code. Still feeling the flutter of romance in his heart, he couldn’t resist sending a WeChat message to his boss:

“Boss, you have Little Dr. Wu’s WeChat, right? Can you give it to me?”

Meanwhile, at Xizhi Technology, Tao Yuan was meticulously reviewing a contract with Axiao and Xiao Liu. His computer was logged into WeChat, and when Duan Zhixin’s message popped up, Tao Yuan’s brow furrowed slightly. He chose to ignore it.

Axiao and Xiao Liu, staring at the screen, naturally saw the notification. After they finally finished their revisions, Axiao said, “Taozi, remember to reply to Senior Brother when you have a moment. Is he having some kind of trouble at the hospital?”

Tao Yuan instinctively rubbed his lower back, which had begun to ache again. He nodded blankly, his mind still cycling through potential issues that could arise in their work.

Axiao noticed Tao Yuan’s movement and asked with concern, “Your back hurts again, doesn’t it? You spent too long revising today. I should have reminded you to stretch in between…”

“I’m fine,” Tao Yuan said, forcing a smile as he snapped out of his daydream.

By the time they left the company, the sky had already turned completely black. Axiao pushed Tao Yuan to his front door, and the two said their goodbyes.

Tao Yuan watched Axiao leave. He thought of her neatly trimmed, short hair and remembered how she had cautiously come out to him years ago, and he couldn’t help but smile.

What would Axiao be like in a relationship? Probably the same kind of cold-faced but considerate person, right?

As this thought crossed his mind, the image of a figure in a white coat, as crisp and upright as a young poplar tree, suddenly appeared in his head. Tao Yuan remembered the WeChat messages he hadn’t replied to.

First, he replied to Duan Zhixin: I don’t have her WeChat.

Then he remembered he hadn’t finished talking to Xiao Shu either.

TY: It’s pretty good.

Xiao Shu: What do you mean “pretty good”? Elaborate.

Xiao Shu: (Sticker: Where are you?)

Xiao Shu: (Sticker: Eating melon/Gossip)

Xiao Shu: (Sticker: Cursing)

Xiao Shu: (Sticker: Speechless)

12 hours later.

Tao Yuan: Her hands are very beautiful.

Xiao Shu immediately came online: Are you talking dirty?

Tao Yuan: (Sticker: Cursing)

Tao Yuan: (Sticker: Speechless)

Xiao Shu: A few days ago, Xiao Wu wanted to add you on WeChat, but I didn’t give her your ID. Because you only like T-types.

Tao Yuan: What the hell? You’re talking nonsense about me again.

Xiao Shu: How is that nonsense! Tell me, Ah Huang, Xiao Xu, Beta… You’ve slept with so many people, and which one of them isn’t a T-type?

If it were anyone else, they would probably feel ashamed facing the names of these partners they had only known for three months.

But Tao Yuan had never invested her heart in any of them, treating her relationships with these women as mere pastimes. So, without a ripple of emotion, she simply replied:

I don’t actually like them.

After sending the message, Tao Yuan tossed her phone aside. She went back to playing with her cat, her pre-sleep ritual, and finding a favorite ASMR track to fall asleep to.

However, in the dead of night, deep within her dreams, a person she hadn’t seen for a long time unexpectedly appeared…

It was a midsummer night twelve years ago. Tao Yuan, president of Jingda University’s External Relations Society, was interviewing new members. At the time, she was a young prodigy at the height of her confidence. Her long, wine-red waves cascaded down her back like a blazing fire, making the air-conditioned classroom feel as stifling as a steamer.

The other candidates, both men and women, were either flushed with heat or wiping sweat from their brows, their eyes constantly drawn to that dazzling crimson hair.

A junior student with a short, bobbed haircut was just finishing her interview. Her final remark, though delivered with a hint of youthful awkwardness, held an undeniable sharpness: “Senior Tao, I’m interested in the External Relations Society, but I’m even more interested in you.”

The classroom erupted in a wave of cheers and teasing.

Tao Yuan raised an eyebrow in surprise, her gaze fixing on the speaker. The girl wore a simple white short-sleeved shirt and a pair of faded jeans. She wore no makeup, and her skin wasn’t particularly fair, but when she smiled, two bright white canines peeked out, giving her a natural, mischievous charm.

Tao Yuan’s smile didn’t falter for a second. “Interested in me, are you? Then I’ll see you at the observatory this Friday at ten.”

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