That night, after Li Yunlan mentioned Lin Xiaoxiao and the baby, Zhou Huai'an had a dream. He dreamed that Lin Xiaoxiao was pregnant, but covered in blood, clinging desperately to the edge of a cliff. Her voice was filled with terror and despair as she cried out his name: "Zhou Changsuo, save me... save the baby!"

Her short hair was disheveled, her face stained with blood. The fear and hopelessness in her eyes haunted him.

Zhou Huai'an jolted awake, gasping for air, his heart pounding. A dull ache lingered in his chest.

He took a deep breath, but a sense of unease remained. He wondered if Lin Xiaoxiao had received his telegram. Was she doing okay alone at home?

There was no telephone at the local clinic, so he had no way to reach her. He decided that at daybreak, he would call Zhong Zhiguo to ask about her.

Meanwhile, on the third day of resting at home, Lin Xiaoxiao finally received Zhou Huai'an's telegram. It was brief—just a few characters: "Arrived in Beijing. All is well. Don't worry."

Since telegrams were charged by the character and quite expensive, those few words were already a luxury.

Lying in bed, Lin Xiaoxiao held the telegram and read it over and over again.

Zhou Xiaoling, who was nearby, couldn't help but laugh. "It's only ten characters, and you've been staring at it for half an hour. What else could you possibly read into it?"

Lin Xiaoxiao sighed. "You don't understand. Your brother packed a thousand unspoken words into these ten characters. I need to read between the lines." She paused, then asked, "Xiaoling, do you think someday we'll have a communication device small enough to hold in our hands? Something that lets us reach anyone, anywhere, just by dialing their number—maybe even see their face?"

Zhou Xiaoling shook her head. "That sounds like something out of a fairy tale. Too magical to be real."

Lin Xiaoxiao smiled to herself. By the time telephones and apps like WeChat became reality, they'd probably be grandmothers, struggling to figure out new gadgets with reading glasses on. The thought reminded her of her own grandmother trying to use a smartphone, and she shivered slightly—change could be unsettling.

Zhou Xiaoling, however, felt content with how things were. "We can already make phone calls, send telegrams, and write letters. We can even travel, as long as we have the right permits. It's much better than before, when people could barely go anywhere."

Lin Xiaoxiao had to agree. She was grateful she hadn't been transported back into the most chaotic years of the past. With her outspoken nature, she might have easily ended up paraded through the streets for saying the wrong thing.

Then Zhou Xiaoling lowered her voice and shared some gossip she'd heard: "Zhang Yimei's mother-in-law woke up, but she can't take care of herself anymore. Her face is twisted, her eyes are drooping, and she can barely move."

Lin Xiaoxiao wasn't surprised. "With some recovery time, she should improve."

Noticing Zhou Xiaoling's hesitation, she pressed, "What else? Just say it."

Zhou Xiaoling looked uneasy. "I'm afraid you'll be upset. People are saying you overestimated your abilities and messed up the treatment. They're claiming a simple fall shouldn't have led to this."

Lin Xiaoxiao shrugged. "Ignorant people will say ignorant things. Anyone who badmouths me can forget about getting my help in the future."

But Zhou Xiaoling was still angry. "It's so unfair. Without you, her mother-in-law might have died. I suspect it was Zhang Yimei who started the rumor."

Lin Xiaoxiao gave a cold laugh. "She's lucky it happened in our compound and that I helped her. Anywhere else, I wouldn't have bothered."

On the other side, Zhang Yimei was struggling. Her mother-in-law could no longer speak clearly, was completely dependent on others, and even needed help with basic needs.

Xiao Yan, who secretly resented Lin Xiaoxiao's success—especially after hearing about her pregnancy and how she'd risked a miscarriage to perform the surgery—saw an opportunity to stir trouble. She couldn't stand the idea of Lin Xiaoxiao receiving praise and recognition.

So she filled Zhang Yimei's head with doubts: "This is a medical error. A well-treated patient wouldn't end up like this. You should hold Lin Xiaoxiao responsible."

Zhang Yimei believed her but was too afraid to confront Lin Xiaoxiao directly. Besides, her husband Wang Wenju had been in a dark mood lately, so she kept quiet. She sighed and told Xiao Yan, "The doctors here said it's a normal aftermath of a brain hemorrhage. She needs time to recover."

Xiao Yan sneered. "Of course they'd say that. Letting Lin Xiaoxiao operate was a breach of protocol. What if the surgery had failed? They're just covering their tracks."

Zhang Yimei hesitated. "But my husband doesn't believe that."

Xiao Yan sighed theatrically. "Brother Wang is too naïve. My family has doctors—I know how these things work. With proper treatment, your mother-in-law should have been fine. Now look at her. And look at you—pregnant, with a child to raise, and an elderly person to care for."

Tears welled in Zhang Yimei's eyes. "What choice do I have? If I complain, Wang Wenju threatens to send me back to the countryside. I can't go back to working in the fields with a child."

Xiao Yan leaned in. "Then write a formal complaint. Say the hospital was negligent—that they let an unqualified person perform surgery and are now hiding the truth. If you do it right, not only will they be held accountable, but you might also receive compensation."

Zhang Yimei was tempted but shook her head. "I can't write. I can barely sign my name."

Xiao Yan offered—a little too eagerly—to help. "I'll write it for you. But you can't tell anyone. Not your husband, not anyone."

Grateful, Zhang Yimei agreed. "I would never betray you. You're the only one who truly wants to help me."

So Xiao Yan drafted a complaint accusing Lin Xiaoxiao of operating without proper qualifications and the hospital of concealing the truth. She read it aloud to Zhang Yimei, then handed it over. "Submit this to the Party Secretary. If he ignores you, threaten to take it higher."

Zhang Yimei wavered. "What if Wang Wenju finds out? Captain Zhou once saved his life."

Xiao Yan waved her off. "You're worrying too much. Brother Wang may feel indebted, but that doesn't mean you should let someone harm his mother. Once he realizes what really happened, he'll thank you. We're not targeting Zhou Huai'an—just Lin Xiaoxiao."

Convinced, Zhang Yimei carried her child on her back and headed to the Party Secretary's office, the letter clutched tightly in her hand.