The corridor was empty. All that could be heard was the tapping of keyboards at the nurses’ station in the distance, along with the monotonous beeping of a machine in one of the rooms. The air carried a smell, a mix of disinfectant and something rotten. After breathing it in for too long, it made you sick.
Just then, the phone in his pocket vibrated.
Its buzzing sounded especially grating in the deathly silent corridor.
Lin Fan pulled out his phone numbly. The screen lit up, and a familiar name appeared: Su Xiaoyu.
His heart tightened without warning.
Su Xiaoyu. His girlfriend. Also the only person he could rely on right now.
He took a deep breath and, with trembling fingertips, swiped to answer.
“Hello? Xiaoyu?”
There was silence on the other end for two seconds. Then a voice he knew all too well rang out, carrying a detachment and chill he had never heard before.
“Lin Fan, let’s break up.”
Lin Fan’s mind went “whoosh,” as if he’d been struck by a heavy hammer. His hand tightened around the phone without him realizing it, his knuckles turning white with the strain.
“...Why?” His voice was as dry as sandpaper scraping together.
“There’s no reason.” Su Xiaoyu’s voice was flat, giving nothing away. “Lin Fan, we’re not right for each other. You can’t give me the life I want.”
“I...” Lin Fan wanted to say something, to say, “I can work harder,” or “Give me a little more time.” But the words clogged his throat, and he couldn’t get a single one out. He knew how hollow they sounded.
Just then, a man laughed on the other end of the call.
The laugh was quiet, but filled with undisguised arrogance and mockery.
