Lin Xiaoxiao didn't catch the conversation between the two men earlier. Carrying a lunchbox, she walked into the hospital room and noticed Zhou Huai'an and Lü Zhigang exchanging a look she couldn't quite read.

"Is something wrong?" she asked curiously.

Lü Zhigang quickly shook his head. "No, no, not at all. Sister Lin, Zhou Huai'an is being discharged tomorrow. He seems perfectly fine. How about we all go out for lunch today?"

Xiaoxiao glanced at Zhou Huai'an and declined, "Thank you, but I just made some fish soup."

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

But Lü Zhigang was uncharacteristically persistent. "Please, I missed your wedding banquet. I really must treat you both to a meal. You can have the fish soup tonight."

Xiaoxiao hesitated, thinking about Zhou Huai'an's injury. What kind of patient goes out for lunch before even being discharged?

As if reading her mind, Lü Zhigang reassured her, "Don't worry. This is nothing for someone like Zhou Huai'an. Back on the battlefield, even if his intestines were falling out, he'd just stuff them back in and keep fighting! We're simple men—we don't stand on ceremony."

Xiaoxiao looked at Lü Zhigang—his refined features and fair skin—and thought he didn't look like a "simple man" at all.

Zhou Huai'an chimed in, "Let's go. There's a state-run canteen not far from here."

Xiaoxiao gave in. She wasn't his doctor; her opinion wouldn't change his mind anyway. And even if she were, she knew plenty of stubborn patients like these two.

So at noon, she found herself following them to the canteen.

The place had a distinct old-time atmosphere. On a granite wall, the words "Serve the People" were painted in black. A small blackboard listed the day's dishes in chalk.

The interior was simple—square tables with long benches, and a large iron stove burning red-hot in the middle of the room.

Lü Zhigang quickly ordered marinated chicken, braised beef, and three jin of dumplings.

Xiaoxiao watched Zhou Huai'an sitting upright without any sign of discomfort and marveled—how was he not in pain?

The food arrived quickly in small yellow enamel bowls.

"Try the braised beef—it's their best dish," Lü Zhigang urged warmly.

Xiaoxiao thought it wasn't that the beef was exceptionally well-cooked; it was more that in these times, any kind of meat tasted good, even just boiled in water.

She had just picked up a piece with her chopsticks when a commotion broke out at the next table. Someone collapsed onto the floor, convulsing.

Both men stood up immediately. Someone already leaned down to help the person up.

After a quick glance, Xiaoxiao recognized the symptoms. Seeing Lü Zhigang about to lift the patient, she called out, "Don't move him! Let him lie flat!"

She pushed through the crowd, carefully supporting the patient's head and turning him onto his side. "Someone get a doctor—tell them it may be a cerebral hemorrhage," she instructed clearly.

The man's wife, who was with him, stood frozen in fear. She didn't know who Xiaoxiao was, but she didn't dare interfere.

Lü Zhigang rushed off and returned shortly with a doctor and a stretcher. After a brief examination, the doctor confirmed it was indeed a cerebral hemorrhage and praised the fact that the patient hadn't been moved improperly.

The patient was quickly carried away.

The other diners gradually returned to their seats, whispering and stealing glances at Xiaoxiao.

She inwardly groaned—she'd revealed too much again. In emergencies, she always acted first without thinking.

Worried that the men would ask questions, she excused herself to wash her hands. When she returned, she forced a cheerful tone. "Let's eat! The food looks delicious."

Lü Zhigang was full of questions. How did she diagnose a cerebral hemorrhage so quickly? How did she remain so calm? Who but a doctor could do that?

But while she was away, Zhou Huai'an had warned him not to ask. So he stayed quiet.

Fortunately, neither of them brought it up. Xiaoxiao relaxed and enjoyed the meal. The chicken, the beef, the dumplings—everything was delicious. It was the best meal she'd had since arriving in this world.

Back in the hospital room, Zhou Huai'an still didn't question her. Xiaoxiao began to relax, thinking he might truly believe she'd learned medicine from her grandfather.

The next morning, she went to complete Zhou Huai'an's discharge procedures. Dr. Lu Yuanda checked his wound and confirmed he was healing well—all he needed was rest at home.

"Keep a close eye on him," Dr. Lu told Xiaoxiao. "I know how he is—don't let him go back to work until he's fully recovered."

"Anything else I should do?" she asked.

"Not really. He's tough and heals fast. Change the dressing every three days, and come back in a while to have the stitches removed."

"'In a while'? When exactly?" Xiaoxiao asked, puzzled. Shouldn't there be a specific date?

Dr. Lu laughed helplessly. "Even if I gave him a date, he wouldn't come. Last time, he pulled his own stitches out."

Xiaoxiao fell silent. Okay, he's hardcore.

She then went to the billing office for a refund. After deducting the covered expenses, the total cost came to less than three yuan. She received a refund of over seven yuan.

She signed the form, counted the money, and marveled at how cheap surgery was in this era.

She rolled up the change and receipts and handed them to Zhou Huai'an. "Here's the refund and the papers. See if they're useful. I've packed everything. I'm just going to say goodbye to Liu Mei and the nurses."

Zhou Huai'an nodded. After she left, he unfolded the receipt and looked it over. His eyes fell on Xiaoxiao's signature.

The handwriting was lean and forceful, with confident strokes and elegant flow—it looked free and unrestrained.

A puzzle that had lingered in Zhou Huai'an's mind began to unravel. He remembered the handwriting on their marriage paperwork—thin, delicate, almost childlike.

A person's personality might change, but their handwriting rarely did.

So, this Lin Xiaoxiao was not the same Lin Xiaoxiao.

Then... who was she?

Xiaoxiao went to say goodbye to Liu Mei and the other nurses. They were surprisingly reluctant to see her go and made her promise to visit.

She agreed cheerfully, then suddenly remembered—her signature on the receipt was nothing like the original Lin Xiaoxiao's.

Oh no.

Did Zhou Huai'an already notice?