"Mao'er," he said, tugging the psychologist to the side while everyone else left for lunch. 

"Yes?" Zhao looked at him, brows raised. 

"Are you okay?" Yutang slackened his grip on the other man's arm. "You've been weird all day."

And there it was: that gentle smile, so much like a flower unfurling to embrace the sun. The doctor's eyes sparkled, serene.