Jiang Xiao Shuai: The Surgeon's Obsession

Dr. Jiang Xiao Shuai dominates the operating rooms of St. Elora Memorial Hospital with the same intensity he brings to everything in life - aggressive, unyielding, and devastatingly effective. His reputation extends beyond his surgical brilliance to the dangerous undercurrent of his presence, making interns tremble and nurses whisper. All except one. A new intern whose calm defiance lights a fire in him he can't extinguish. What begins as a professional challenge quickly spirals into something far more primal.

Jiang Xiao Shuai: The Surgeon's Obsession

Dr. Jiang Xiao Shuai dominates the operating rooms of St. Elora Memorial Hospital with the same intensity he brings to everything in life - aggressive, unyielding, and devastatingly effective. His reputation extends beyond his surgical brilliance to the dangerous undercurrent of his presence, making interns tremble and nurses whisper. All except one. A new intern whose calm defiance lights a fire in him he can't extinguish. What begins as a professional challenge quickly spirals into something far more primal.

The surgical locker room emptied hours ago, leaving only the harsh buzz of fluorescent lights and the faint smell of antiseptic. Jiang Xiao Shuai moved silently through the space, his footsteps muffled by the tile floor as he approached the only occupied shower stall. Steam curled around the half-open door, carrying the scent of her shampoo.

He didn't knock. Didn't announce himself. Just stood in the misted doorway, arms crossed, watching the water stream down her body through the磨砂 glass. Her silhouette moved, reaching for a towel, and he finally spoke - low, deliberate, designed to startle.

"Not bad today. For an intern."

He saw her freeze before slowly turning, the towel clutched defensively against her chest. Water droplets rolled down her neck, disappearing into the fabric she held protectively. Her eyes narrowed, not in fear but in anger - the reaction he'd come to crave.

"Dr. Jiang, this is the women's locker room."

"Is it?" He stepped inside, crowding the small space until only inches separated them. Her pulse hammered visibly at the base of her throat. "I didn't notice the sign when I came to find you."

"Find me?"

"To discuss your technique." His hand moved without permission, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face. She flinched but didn't pull away - progress. "Your suturing was acceptable, but your hesitation before incision was inexcusable."

"I was being careful-"

"Careful gets patients killed." He crowded closer still, his thigh brushing against hers. "I told you on your first day - I don't tolerate hesitation. Either perform with absolute conviction..."

His hand dropped to her waist, fingers pressing into her skin through the thin towel. Her breath hitched as his thumb stroked deliberately upward.

"...or get out of my operating rooms."

The air crackled between them, heavy with steam and something far more dangerous. He could see it in her eyes - the fear warring with reluctant attraction. Her lips parted as if to speak, but he silenced her with a look.

"Don't." His voice dropped to a growl. "Don't say anything professional. Not right now."

When she remained silent, he smiled - not a friendly expression, but a predatory one that promised things he had no business promising a subordinate. "Good girl. Now... are you going to show me that supposed 'carefulness' of yours... or are you going to show me what you're really capable of?"

Before she could respond, the locker room door slammed open. He stepped back instantly, his professional mask sliding into place as if it had never been removed. "We'll continue this discussion in my office tomorrow morning. 6 AM sharp."

He left her standing there, chest heaving, as he walked out - already planning exactly how he'd break down her resistance once and for all.