My Boyfriend's Intern
After five years of practicing medicine without a single error, my colleagues hailed me as a top doctor.
Tim Shawn was my boyfriend and the deputy director of our department.
We had been together for three years, and both our parents had already met—we were just waiting to register our marriage at the end of the year.
Vivian Lincoln was an intern under Tim Shawn. She had graduated from medical school just six months earlier and clung to Tim's side every day.
I never took Vivian seriously until the coronary artery bypass surgery on Ms. Rachel Wade.
Tim said he wanted to craft Vivian's image as a prodigious young genius by letting her take the lead on that surgery.
I hesitated. Rachel's condition was complex, and Vivian hadn't even mastered independent suturing yet.
But Tim Shawn said I should support Vivian Lincoln and that he would be by her side watching the entire time.
I trusted his words and believed that Vivian might be able to seize the opportunity.
But I never expected that the moment the surgery opened her chest, Vivian's phone would ring.
She said over the call that her pet dog had broken its leg and was waiting at the veterinary hospital.
Vivian didn't even take off her gloves; she abandoned Rachel Wade lying on the operating table with her chest still open and ran away.
I was desperate to rush forward and continue the surgery, but Tim Shawn grabbed me tightly.
He said, "Vivian needs this surgery to secure her formal appointment; you can't ruin her chance."
I had no choice but to call Vivian Lincoln, begging her to come back quickly.
On the other end, Vivian's tone was indifferent: "Rachel Wade isn't going to die anytime soon; my dog is bleeding badly."
I watched Rachel Wade's breath weaken on the operating table, tears threatening to fall.
But Tim Shawn firmly blocked me, refusing to let me touch the surgical instruments.
In the end, Rachel Wade died a painful death on the operating table due to anesthetic failure and excessive blood loss.
What shattered me even more was when I later discovered that Rachel Wade was Calvin Luke's wife.
Calvin Luke kills without hesitation, yet he has spoiled Rachel Wade like a precious treasure.
When Tim Shawn learned the truth, his first reaction was not guilt but to shift all the blame onto me.
He told Calvin Luke's men, "It was Blair Scott's surgical error, nothing to do with me or Vivian Lincoln."
I didn't even get a chance to defend myself before Calvin Luke's men tied me to a helicopter.
They threw me from the sky again and again; I could feel my bones shatter inch by inch until I was crushed into a pulp.
In the last second before losing consciousness, my mind was filled with hatred—hatred for Tim Shawn's selfishness, hatred for Vivian Lincoln's coldness, and an even deeper hatred for my own foolishness.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself standing in the corridor outside the department.
A familiar voice reached my ears with an undeniable tone: "Blair Scott, have Vivian lead Rachel Wade's surgery."
It was Tim Shawn.
I spun around and saw Vivian Lincoln standing beside him, her face marked by a shy yet expectant smile.
The surroundings and colleagues' conversations were exactly the same as that day in my previous life.
I have been reborn.
Reborn before the tragedy unfolded.
Vivian Lincoln immediately stepped forward, reaching out to grab my arm.
The moment her fingers brushed my sleeve, I jerked away as if shocked.
"I disagree."
My voice was colder than I anticipated, laced with the lingering hatred from my past life.
"Rachel Wade is my patient, I am her attending physician, and I am responsible for her life."
Vivian froze for a moment; her eyes instantly reddened. She looked at Tim with a hurt expression, "Tim, did I do something to upset Blair?"
Tim Shawn's face darkened, his voice dripping with menace: "Blair, Vivian is my friend. She needs this surgery as a stepping stone."
Those words were identical to those in my past life.
But now, all I felt was amusement.
"Tim Shawn, hospital regulations clearly state that intern doctors are not qualified to independently perform surgeries, especially complex heart operations like this. You're the deputy director — knowingly breaking the rules."
Tears slipped from Vivian Lincoln's eyes as her voice trembled: "Blair, I know how skilled you are—everyone acknowledges you as a genius."
“But I've been learning from Tim for the past six months, and he said I'm capable... Are you afraid I'll steal your reputation once I'm formally appointed?"
The moment those words left my mouth, colleagues passing by stopped in their tracks, their eyes filled with curiosity as they stared at me.
Seeing this, Tim suddenly raised his hand and shoved me.
Caught off guard, I stumbled back two steps, my back hitting the wall.
"Blair, how can you be so narrow-minded? Jealous that Vivian is better than you, so you deliberately make things difficult for her?"
A surge of fury erupted from deep within me. I lifted my hand and slapped Tim across the face.
A crisp, sharp "smack" rang out.
Silence fell instantly around us.
Tim Shawn covered his face, staring at me in disbelief. "You dare hit me?"
"Not only do I dare hit you, but I also dare to accuse you of abusing your power and treating the patient's life casually."
I held his gaze, speaking every word deliberately: "I will never entrust Rachel Wade's surgery to Vivian Lincoln.
If you insist on forcing me, then let's go to the Dean's office right now and make this clear."
Tim Shawn was left speechless, his face shifting pale and flushed in turn.
After a few seconds, he gritted his teeth and said, "Alright, Blair, you've got guts!"
"If you don't let Vivian perform the surgery, we're breaking up!"
In my past life, hearing the words "break up" would have made me panic; I would have compromised.
But now, I only feel relief.
"I couldn't wish for better."
I smiled faintly, "From now on, whatever concerns Tim Shawn has nothing to do with me, Blair Scott."
When Vivian Lincoln saw we were really breaking up, she suddenly collapsed to her knees with a thud.
She lay on the ground, her shoulders trembling as she sobbed, "Blair, I beg you... My parents said that if I don't get formally appointed soon, they'll force me to go home and marry, using the bride price to buy a house for my brother."
“I don't want to get married; I want to be a doctor... Just give me one chance, please?”
She cried bitterly, tears streaming down her face like rain, looking especially pitiful.
The colleagues around immediately began whispering.
"I remember Dr. Lincoln. When my mother was hospitalized last time, she visited every day and was very responsible."
"Isn't Dr. Scott going too far? The young girl has a hard time; what's wrong with giving her a little help?"
"Exactly, it's just one surgery. With Deputy Director Shawn and Dr. Scott overseeing, it could not possibly go wrong."
Someone even walked right over, pointed at my nose, and shouted, "Blair Scott, have you been a top doctor so long that you think you're better than everyone else?"
“Just because you're a genius, you think you can bully the intern?”
“I'm telling you, if you don't let Dr. Lincoln get a formal appointment, we will complain to the Dean!”
No sooner had those words fallen when a cup of icy liquid was thrown in my face.
It was milk tea, with pearls and a straw still stuck in my hair.
Immediately after, someone reached out and pushed me; I lost my balance and fell to the ground.
Several feet kicked at me, striking my arms and legs.
I gritted my teeth against the pain, pulled out my phone from my pocket, and dialed 911.
"Hello, police? There's a disturbance and someone started a fight on the third floor of the inpatient department at No.1 Hospital."
My voice was calm, without the slightest sign of panic.
The officer on the other end said they'd be there immediately. I hung up and looked around at the people nearby.
"If any of you dare touch me again, be ready to come with me to the police station to give a statement."
As soon as they heard the word "police," they immediately stopped, stepped back a few paces, their eyes filled with guilt.
I leaned against the wall and slowly rose to my feet.
I walked up to Vivian Lincoln, bent down, grabbed her collar, and pulled her up from the ground.
"Vivian Lincoln, you're spreading lies that I'm jealous of you and making things difficult for you, damaging my reputation. I can sue you for defamation."
I stared into her eyes. "I've never stopped you from getting your formal appointment; I just won't let you practice on my patients. If you want to be formally appointed, earn it with your own skills—don't use underhanded tactics."
Then I turned to those who had just defended Vivian Lincoln: "Don't you all think Vivian is competent?"
“Alright then, who among you is willing to let Vivian Lincoln perform your heart surgery? Sign up now.”
“As long as you agree, I will never stop her.”
Those people were instantly left speechless.
After a few seconds, someone whispered, "Heart surgery is such a serious matter."
"Yes, Dr. Scott is experienced. We still trust you."
Watching their faces change faster than flipping pages, I sneered.
"So, you realize that letting an intern doctor take the lead in heart surgery is like playing with lives."
Then on what grounds do you think my patient should be used as a favor?
No one spoke; everyone kept their heads down, too afraid to meet my eyes.
At that moment, Tim Shawn's phone rang.
He answered, and after hearing only a few words, his face turned pale.
It was the Dean calling.
Earlier, when I argued with Tim Shawn, I had already sent the Dean a detailed account of everything, both in text and with audio recordings.
The Dean must have scolded him severely over the phone.
Tim Shawn hung up and shot me a fierce glare but didn't dare to say another word.
I ignored him and turned toward Rachel Wade's ward.
This time, I must protect Rachel Wade and ensure the tragedy of my past life never repeats.
When I entered the ward, Rachel Wade was leaning against the bedside, reading a book.
She saw me come in, set the book down, and smiled as she greeted me, "Dr. Scott, you're here."
In my past life, I only discovered after her death that she was Calvin Luke's wife.
Now, looking at her gentle expression, my heart ached.
"Ms. Wade, the surgery is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Let me go over the preoperative instructions with you."
I pulled up a chair and sat down, explaining clearly, one by one, the tests she needed to prepare for and the dietary restrictions.
Rachel Wade listened intently, nodding occasionally, and even took out a notebook to write things down.
"Thank you for your hard work, Dr. Scott."
She looked up and smiled at me, her eyes brimming with trust.
"It's my duty."
I smiled back. "If you feel unwell over the next two days, call me anytime—I'm on call 24/7."
After leaving the ward, I went to see the Head Nurse, repeatedly emphasizing the need to closely monitor Rachel Wade's condition.
"Head Nurse, although Ms. Wade's condition is stable, you must be careful."
"Her vital signs must be recorded every two hours, and any abnormalities are to be reported to me immediately."
The head nurse nodded. "Dr. Scott, don't worry, I will keep a close watch."
For the next two days, I visited the ward several times each day to check on Rachel Wade.
All the test results were normal, with no issues.
On the day of the surgery, I arrived at the hospital half an hour early, changed into my surgical gown, and prepared to enter the operating room.
But just as I pushed open the changing room door, ready to step out, the door suddenly clicked shut and was locked from the outside.
I froze for a moment, then yanked hard on the door handle, but it didn't move an inch.
"Who's out there? Open the door!"
I banged on the door and shouted, but no one answered.
A chill ran through me—it was Tim Shawn and Vivian Lincoln.
They clearly weren't willing to give up; they wanted to take advantage of me being locked in here, so Vivian could proceed with operating on Rachel Wade.
I pulled out my phone to call the Dean, only to find there was no signal.
Then, suddenly, the lights in the changing room went out.
Darkness swallowed me whole in an instant, leaving not a shred of light.
I have claustrophobia, and being trapped in total darkness makes my panic spiral out of control.
In my past life, Tim Shawn knew about this; he did it on purpose!
My heartbeat quickened, as if it was about to burst out of my chest.
My breathing grew increasingly rapid, and my chest felt as though a heavy stone was pressing down, making it hard to breathe.
Cold sweat broke out on my palms, and my whole body began to tremble.
"Open the door... Is anyone there... please open the door!"
I shouted while ramming my body against the door.
But the door was solid; no matter how hard I hit it, it didn't budge an inch.
Fear overwhelmed me, and I began banging my head against the wall, trying to use pain to stay conscious.
My forehead throbbed painfully, and warm liquid trickled down—it was blood.
But I couldn't focus; I felt like if I stayed here even one more second, I would suffocate.
Just as I was about to pass out, there was a loud bang as the changing room door was kicked open.
A tall figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the light behind him.
I squinted, unable to make out his face—only knowing he was the one who had come to save me.
I struggled to crawl toward him, clutching his pant leg, my voice trembling: "Save... save Rachel Wade... she's in the operating room... someone wants the intern to operate on her..."
The man crouched down and handed me a phone. "Call first."
His voice was low, carrying an oppressive weight.
I took the phone, my fingers trembling as I dialed the Dean's number.
"Dean! Hurry! Send Dr. Clark from Cardiac Surgery to the operating room! Rachel Wade's surgery—Vivian Lincoln is trying to take it over—and I'm locked in the changing room!"
The Dean panicked on the other end of the line: "I'm arranging it now! Dr. Scott, don't panic, I'm sending someone over immediately!"
I had just hung up when the man grabbed the phone and, speaking coldly to the Dean on the line, said, "This is Calvin Luke. If anything happens to my wife, your No.1 Hospital won't be able to keep operating."
Calvin Luke?!
I suddenly looked up and stared at his face.
His features were sharp, his gaze piercing, radiating an aura that warned others to keep their distance.
It really was him.
The man who had thrown me off the helicopter in my past life.
My body trembled involuntarily.
Calvin Luke seemed to notice my fear, glanced at me, but said nothing.
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