At 29, Ethan Shaw’s life had become a tangled mess.

This morning, he was reprimanded by his boss, Mr. Thompson, for failing to meet the bank’s deposit targets.

By lunchtime, his mother, Lucy Archer, bombarded him with phone calls, urging him to go on a blind date.

In the afternoon, he noticed a slight trace of blood in his urine. He took the afternoon off and headed to St. Lawrence Hospital. His boss, Mr. Thompson, complained about his taking time off, calling it unnecessary.

Now, Ethan sat with a worried expression in the nephrology department of St. Lawrence Hospital, suspecting he might be seriously ill.

For the past six months, he had been dealing with frequent urination, painful urination, and blood in his urine. The first time this happened, he ended up in the emergency room in the middle of the night, and since then, it had relapsed three more times, all requiring visits to nephrology.

“In this age where you don’t have any sexual activity, so recurrent urinary infections must rule out any organic diseases. I’m referring you to urology for further examination,” the doctor said, finishing the referral on the system and handing the medical file back to him.

With a heavy heart, Ethan made his way to the urology department.

“Is Ethan Shaw here? Ethan Shaw?” the triage nurse shouted loudly.

Ethan stood up in response. “Here.”

“How many times do I have to call? You’re about to miss your turn! Watch the screen next time,” the nurse snapped.

Frustrated, Ethan sat down, waiting while also chatting with the matchmaker his mother had chosen for him, discussing the blind date scheduled for the weekend.

When he opened the door to the exam room, he saw a young, strikingly beautiful female doctor sitting inside. She looked like a famous actress.

This was Vivienne Brooks, the youngest urology specialist at St. Lawrence Hospital. She had studied under Professor Wade and just returned from training at one of the best hospitals in the UK, MD Anderson. Today was her first day seeing patients since returning.

“What’s your number?” Vivienne asked, her gaze focused on the paperwork.

“Number 17, Ethan Shaw,” he replied, sitting down at the desk and handing over his medical file and test results.

“What seems to be the problem?” Vivienne asked while reviewing the report.

“I was referred from nephrology for recurring, unexplained urinary tract infections,” Ethan said quietly, his heart sinking as he feared the worst.

“I’ll need to do a physical examination. Go ahead and call the nurse in,” Vivienne instructed, her expression serious.

Confused, Ethan went to the triage desk and called for a nurse.

When he returned to the exam room, Vivienne was standing there, donning latex gloves.

“Lie face down on the examination bed behind the curtain and take off your underwear,” she said in an impassive tone, her voice cold.

“Can I see a male doctor instead?” Ethan froze.

He never expected a urology exam would require him to undress. Vivienne had asked him to call a nurse to avoid potential medical disputes.

The female nurse standing by sneered, “The doctor doesn’t care about gender. Our urology department doesn’t have any male doctors.”

Seeing that Ethan still wasn’t moving, Vivienne’s tone turned even colder. “Do you want to see any longer? There are plenty of other patients waiting outside.”

Ethan felt a wave of dizziness and realized he had no choice. His health was more important. He reluctantly removed his clothes and lay down on the examination bed.

But as he positioned himself, and the young female doctor began her examination, Ethan felt his entire body flush with embarrassment.

"Are you married?" Vivienne Brooks asked, her voice calm.

"No," Ethan Shaw muttered, staring at the ceiling. He felt utterly defeated, his mind full of frustration over the unfairness of his life.

The nurse stood idly by the bedside.

Ethan sensed that Vivienne's movements were gentle, which made him relax just a little.

Suddenly, he felt Vivienne's hand move to an area that should only be examined in gynecology—the area near his anus. His body jerked in shock, and he quickly shouted, "Doctor, are you sure you're examining the right place?"

"If you don’t trust me, don’t come to me for treatment," Vivienne replied coolly. "I’m checking for prostatitis and urethral diverticula."

With that, she removed her gloves. "All done."

Ethan climbed off the examination table and dressed quickly. He felt miserable, humiliated, and like he had failed in every way possible.

After the nurse left, Vivienne wrote out his prescription.

"There’s nothing structurally wrong. Do you often hold your urine?" she asked.

Ethan, too embarrassed to face her any longer, just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. Since he didn’t have a serious illness, he didn’t care about the advice Vivienne was giving him. He didn’t even hear it clearly.

When he went to the pharmacy to get his medication, the pharmacist refused to give it to him without a prescription.

That’s when Ethan realized, in his nervousness and embarrassment, he had forgotten to grab the prescription from Vivienne.

When he pushed the door to the exam room open again, Vivienne was treating another patient.

She looked up at him, her expression slightly changing. "What’s wrong?"

"I forgot to grab the prescription," Ethan said, his face turning red. He couldn’t look at her, even though she was his doctor.

He quickly took the prescription from Vivienne and rushed out of the room.

Ethan worked as a bank teller. During busy times, he often held his urine to avoid interrupting his work. Even so, clients sometimes complained about slow service, and he would get scolded by his boss for making customers wait too long.

His parents had divorced when he was young. His father had remarried, and his mother, Lucy Archer, worked as a caregiver at St. Lawrence Hospital. Her greatest wish was to find her son or daughter a partner who worked as a doctor, teacher, or government employee.

Lucy believed that Ethan, now 29, was at the age where he should be married and settled down before turning 30. So, this year, she had been arranging blind dates for him nonstop.

Ethan had had enough. It felt like he was either on a blind date or heading to one.

A week later, Ethan noticed that his symptoms of frequent urination and painful urination had almost disappeared. He decided to go ahead with the blind date he had promised the matchmaker.

The matchmaker had arranged for him to meet three potential partners, all of whom were doctors. Ethan didn’t want to waste time. He preferred efficiency, so he planned to meet all three in one day—one in the morning and two in the afternoon.

On Saturday morning, Ethan took a shower, put on light makeup, and wore a French floral dress with a white shirt and black pants before heading out.

Over the past year, he had met countless blind dates. A few of them had been okay-looking, but most were either bald or had beer bellies, and some were overly confident oddballs who openly expressed their disdain for his age.

He thought to himself that the old saying was true—good men are no longer available on the market.

So, he had no expectations. He just wanted to get the task over with as quickly as possible so that he could enjoy a day off on Sunday.

When he entered the coffee shop, he noticed some new mugs on the display shelf. He planned to buy one after the blind date.

Following the instructions from the matchmaker, Ethan went to find his seat. When he walked to the corner by the window, he immediately spotted Vivienne sitting there, sipping coffee.

She was dressed in a casual, minimalist outfit—white T-shirt, light-colored pants, and a relaxed, elegant look that was both refreshing and graceful.

Ethan froze, wondering whether he should quickly leave or stay.

"Hello, I’m Vivienne Brooks," she said, noticing him. Her eyes showed a hint of surprise. She stood up and politely moved the chair for him.

"Hello," Ethan’s heart raced, his face flushed with embarrassment. He couldn’t even greet her properly.

"Are you the Ethan Shaw that Dr. Monroe introduced?" Vivienne asked with a small smile.

Ethan sat down, too shy to look up. "Yes."

Dr. Monroe was the wife of the deputy director of St. Lawrence Hospital and also the head of the breast surgery department. Ethan’s mother worked under her as a caregiver supervisor.

"Do I need to introduce myself?" Vivienne asked teasingly.

"No, it’s fine."

After Ethan barely managed to get that sentence out, his mind was filled with how to quickly end this awkward encounter.