Dr. Pei’s Familiar Stranger: A Heartbeat Reunion

Ni Wu never expected to see Pei Huaiyu again. That day, she had brought her six-year-old daughter for a check-up at the hospital. Sui Sui had a congenital heart condition, so regular follow-ups were a must. Then, she pushed open the clinic door—and froze on the spot. He was there, sitting at a desk, staring at a computer screen. A pair of frameless glasses perched on his straight, high nose bridge. His white coat looked as crisp as snow, his aura cold and detached, his features smooth and handsome as polished jade. Every inch of him exuded quiet nobility. Ni Wu’s face was drained of color. Sui Sui’s heart condition required regular check-ups. Today, she’d originally booked an appointment with Dr. Dong, a senior specialist… but he’d been called away for a consultation. The nurse suggested switching to another doctor, saying, “Dr. Pei is a returning PhD, Dr. Dong’s star pupil—he’s in Room 8, Cardiology.” Now, Ni Wu stood rigid in the doorway, her thin fingers white-knuckled around the doorknob. She fumbled to pull up her mask, as if that small piece of fabric could ground her. All she could think was: run. Take Sui Sui and leave. Seven years. When did he come back? Her life had been so peaceful, so uneventful since then. She’d never imagined this—meeting Pei Huaiyu again. Her body felt as if it were shattering; she couldn’t find the strength to react. Instinctively, she squeezed Sui Sui’s hand. Her palms were clammy, her spine trembling with tension. Then, his voice cut through the silence—deep, clear, and unwavering. “Come in.” Pei Huaiyu lifted his head, his gaze landing on the door. Behind the lenses, his eyes held a faint, cold detachment. Their eyes met. For a breathless second, Ni Wu’s lungs seized up. The 28-year-old man in front of her was a flashback to the 21-year-old boy in a white shirt—bright, untouchable, the “unattainable gem” of S University. And yet… he’d once been tangled in an underground romance with a chubby girl, over 160 pounds. Ni Wu forced herself to meet his stare. She bit down hard on her back teeth, and the movement to pull Sui Sui away froze midair. Pei Huaiyu’s pupils were as dark as ink, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the desktop. “Ni An, right?” he said, his tone neutral. “Let me see your chart.” Ni Wu’s composure cracked for a heartbeat—then clamped back down. Her face was still pale, but her voice became steady. She touched her mask, as if the fabric were a lifeline. He didn’t recognize her. Because now she was Ni Wu, not Cheng Qingmiao from seven years ago—not the chubby girl. Now, she stood at 1.7 meters, a hundred pounds of lean, angular bone and muscle. Sui Sui trotted over, climbing onto the examining chair. The doctor leaned in to listen to her chest. The cold, familiar scent of him wrapped around her—so distinct, yet so alien—that she pressed a hand to Sui Sui’s slim shoulder, as if bracing for impact. Her glance flicked upward, lingering on his face. Glasses, frameless, sharp yet gentle features. Under the white coat, a crisp white shirt of such fine fabric might have cost a fortune. He listened to Sui Sui with focused care, his brows furrowing slightly, then said, “Keep an eye on her. Try to schedule the surgery in the next two or three years. I assume you’ve looked into the cost?” Pei Huaiyu’s gaze slid to the black leather satchel slung over her arm—the handles worn and peeling. Her feet were in faded white jeans and scuffed white canvas sneakers. Her clothes were simple, almost shabby. The surgery fee was that high, for a family like hers… it was a common problem in the hospital. But today, he couldn’t look away. She was thin, tall, her skin so white it glowed. A low ponytail, a mask hiding most of her face, she appeared younger than she was—yet she had a six-year-old daughter. Her neck was long, a few loose strands of black hair falling onto her collarbone, soft and vulnerable. Ni Wu kept her head down, avoiding his eyes. She stood behind Sui Sui like a statue, a silent guardian. Only her eyes, half-hidden under the mask, were visible—downcast, unreadable. She hadn’t spoken a word since entering. Pei Huaiyu frowned slightly, wondering if she’d been disappointed by his youth (he was only 28, after all, and had returned home last year). “If you’re not satisfied with my diagnosis,” he said, “I can transfer your number to the Pediatric Department. Dr. Xu is still there—you can take her to see him instead.” Ni Wu nodded, her bangs falling to hide her eyes. She whispered, “Sorry to bother you,” then gathered Sui Sui’s chart and led her out. Pei Huaiyu watched their retreating backs, his brows creasing deeper. After the door closed, he pushed his glasses up his nose and returned to work. Two patients later, he took a brief break—boiled water, then a call from his high school monitor, Lu Zhanpeng. “The class reunion on the 20th,” Lu Zhanpeng’s voice boomed over the line. "Everyone in Songcheng’s confirmed. You’ve been overseas before, but now you’re back—you can’t miss it.” “Maybe,” Pei Huaiyu said, sipping the hot water. “I’ll check my schedule. The rotation list hasn’t come out yet.” “Busybody as always!” Lu Zhanpeng laughed. “We’ve tried so many times—only you and Cheng Qingmiao kept skipping. You remember her, right? The chubby one? She vanished after graduation, like she dropped off the face of the earth. You ever think about her?” “Pei Huaiyu? You there?” “…Hello?” “Signal’s bad, man. I can’t hear you.” The electric kettle on his desk suddenly whistled loudly, boiling over. Hot water spilled across the papers, soaking them. Pei Huaiyu didn’t stir. He held the phone, his knuckles white, face as still as marble—but his eyes were a storm. The clinic door stood open, and a nurse hurried in, red-faced. “Dr. Pei! You okay? The water spilled everywhere!” He came back to himself. Standing, he ignored her, striding to the window. His voice was flat, almost unrecognizable. “…She never came to any reunions?” “Who? Cheng Qingmiao? No one’s heard from her. Probably got married and had kids already, huh?” Lu Zhanpeng rambled on, but Pei Huaiyu didn’t listen. The young nurse, blushing, tidied his desk, trying to catch his eye. But he stared out the window, a faraway look in his eyes, as if he’d been adrift in a memory for years. By noon, three patients later, he was exhausted. He opened a drawer, pulling out a blue velvet case. Inside: a black fountain pen, six or seven years old, its body chipped from years of use. He’d dropped it recently, and it had leaked badly—he’d just fixed it, but hadn’t used it again. It sat there, a quiet relic. Pei Huaiyu pressed his thumb to his temple, sinking into the kind of fatigue that wasn’t physical. On the bus, Ni Wu’s mind spiraled back seven years—to Pei Huaiyu’s birthday dinner. She’d been so happy, standing outside the private room door, her heart brimming with joy. The laughter and music inside had turned to jeers. “Dude, what’s on Fourth Brother’s neck? A hickey? You banged that chubby girl, didn’t you?” “For real? You're dating a fatso, Fourth Brother?” “who cares? It’s not like it’s for keeps, right? Slap some makeup on and she’s not so bad… under the sheets, anyway.” “Fourth Brother, you’re serious? "I saw that forum post—you actually banged that chubby girl?!” “Shut up. She cornered me. Threatened to tell Chu Yan about what happened, so I had to… keep her around. It was just a fling. I’m leaving for overseas next month anyway.” Chu Yan. The name hit her like a bullet. She’d stood frozen, tears stinging her eyes, chest tight enough to suffocate. Pei Huaiyu was from a top-tier family, untouchable. She’d never dared to dream of more than a secret, fleeting romance. She’d planned to end it after his birthday, to let him go. But those words—“Just a fling. I’m leaving next month”—had turned her love into ash. The gift she’d given him: a black fountain pen, bought with two months of part-time work to save up 2,000 yuan. His “friends” had mocked it: “Where did she get such a cheap thing? Probably the fatso’s handmade junk. You actually use this, Fourth Brother?” “Disgusting. You’re lowering your standards.” “Mommy?” Sui Sui tugged her hand, her small face lifted, eyes wide. “The doctor uncle today… was he my daddy?” Ni Wu pulled her daughter close, staring at her face. Sui Sui was growing up fast—her eyes, her smile, the curve of her nose… more and more, she looked like Pei Huaiyu. Her heart ached.