When Nan Zhi returned home, she unexpectedly discovered that today Song Qing didn’t come to welcome her. In the past, upon hearing the sound, even if he was busy with something in his hands, he would still come over, leaning on the glass window of the sunroom to look at her.
Today, she deliberately turned on the big light, flashed it once, but didn’t see anyone.
Nan Zhi entered the yard, closed the front gate, originally planned to first put down the coal she was carrying, but after thinking it over, directly stepped on the snow to the sunroom door, changed into indoor slippers, and just as she entered, she saw the figure behind the layer of glass, in the far-right room that belonged to her.
Nan Zhi ran over, crossed one layer of glass door, and what she saw became clearer. When she reached the door, she could already see the person inside.
“As expected, it’s him.” When her parents said the old Chinese medicine doctor, and the son as well, she had a feeling, seventy to eighty percent it was him — didn’t expect it really was.
Nan Zhi had heard about the deep entanglement between her family and the other party’s family. It was said that her dad, in earlier years, performed surgery on a patient. At the time, it was cured, but a few months later it relapsed, and the patient and the family made a huge scene at the hospital.
It was a normal occurrence, surgery itself couldn’t guarantee a 100% non-relapse rate. What’s more, there was this possibility: if the living environment and habits remained the same as before, it was easy to get the same illness again, especially during the weak recovery period — extremely prone to relapse.
They had explained it to the other party, but the other party didn’t believe it, insisted that it was her dad’s original fault, and even dragged the patient to lie in the lobby, making a scene every day.
The hospital had no choice, agreed to re-treat him, but the patient didn’t want the original doctor to take over, nor did he want to undergo surgery again. In the end, it was the old Chinese medicine doctor who cured him.
The old Chinese medicine doctor was his dad.
Her parents, remembering the past feelings, found that the old Chinese doctor’s home now only had himself and his son — two grown men who didn’t even know how to cook — and since their old house had been demolished and there was no place to return to, every year they would pull them over to celebrate together.
When Nan Zhi went for New Year, she had encountered him at the dinner table.
They had a house in the local area, didn’t live together, just had a New Year’s Eve dinner. Since it was close, her parents even wanted her to stay at their house — they had empty rooms.
But Nan Zhi didn’t agree. At that time, she was still terribly shy — even staying at her parents’ house made her feel embarrassed, let alone a stranger’s house.
“Why so early this year?” Usually it was not until New Year’s Eve that she would see him — always very busy.
She heard he went abroad to open a medical hall, said it was to carry forward tradition, to promote it abroad.
It was said to be doing pretty well, had already opened several chain medicine halls. He refused to inherit the family’s medicine hall, which had made his dad furious.
“I haven’t been back for a few years, so came back a few days earlier to conveniently visit some relatives.” Fang Guanqi replied calmly.
Nan Zhi nodded. As she walked toward him, she unintentionally glanced through the window and saw Song Qing inside packing luggage. She couldn’t help sighing — really couldn’t stay idle.
Leaning at the window and watching for a while, she then discovered Song Qing wasn’t bringing the suitcase from the sunroom into the room to hang clothes in the wardrobe, but instead was taking clothes out from the wardrobe and putting them into the suitcase.
Nan Zhi straightened up and couldn’t help asking him, “What are you doing?”
Song Qing didn’t answer her, but the one at the doorway — Fang Guanqi — replied: “This room has carpet. I saw that every time he went in and out, he had to wipe his wheelchair — quite troublesome — so I thought to switch rooms with him, and he agreed.”
Nan Zhi paused for a moment, then quickly reacted and said: “He’s already used to it, it’s not necessary.”
She explained, “This room has a heater. The cat loves to sleep here the most. The place I work is also here. If switched, when the time comes, I’d be running back and forth, going in and out would disturb his rest.”
Before the other party could argue, she had already stood up, went around Fang Guanqi, and after reaching the door, closed it.
There was a lock on the door, with the key still inserted. Nan Zhi casually turned the key to lock it, then pulled it out and stuffed it into her own pocket.
This way, the person inside couldn’t get out, and people outside couldn’t come in — eliminated the possibility of someone else moving in.
“I’ll take you to another room then. That room is quieter than this one, no one will disturb you.”
While Nan Zhi spoke, she walked ahead to lead the way. Behind her, Fang Guanqi gripped the suitcase handle tightly.
Nan Zhi noticed his unusualness, but this room was hers. Her room, aside from her people, if someone else entered, she’d feel uncomfortable — let alone someone moving in.
After living in it, it simply can’t be wanted anymore. \[This implies: once someone else lives in it, it’s “ruined”/unacceptable for the speaker.]
Rather than the trouble of moving him out later, might as well strangle it in the cradle now. Even if it offends people, she must take him to another room.
She was still walking ahead, no matter what Fang Guanqi said behind her, on her side she just kept finding excuses — if it wasn’t that it had already been lived in for a while and was quite dirty, then it was that there was lots of cat fur, bad for his breathing, etc., insisting on leading him to the guest room.
When he frowned at the guest room on the first floor, then she led him to the second floor instead — three rooms to choose from at will, her own and her grandmother’s rooms were absolutely not mentioned.
After Fang Guanqi strolled around a bit, in the end he still chose to stay in the left-side guest room on the first floor.
Nan Zhi let out a breath of relief and warmly helped him pack his luggage, afraid he’d regret it. After he settled in on his side, she headed toward her own room.
Inside the far-right room, the window hadn’t been closed. The conversation under the sunroom, Song Qing heard it all. Now, whether to continue packing clothes or not, it was awkward — he could neither go on nor stop. He had no choice but to stop what he was doing and sit in place, waiting for arrangements.
After a repeated series of sounds came from the left and from upstairs, about three to five minutes later, the noise stopped on the left side.
It seemed that Fang Guanqi had chosen to stay in the left-side guest room on the first floor.
Rooms in the countryside were built tall and big, and the corresponding problem was — poor soundproofing. Whatever sound there was, it could be heard very clearly. One could roughly figure out the movements on that side.
Nan Zhi’s footsteps were captured completely — from far to near — and not long after, the sound of a key being inserted into the door lock rang out at the room entrance. A little while later, Nan Zhi came in, jogged to his front, and asked him: “Why did you give up the room to him?”
She didn’t understand. “This is my room, men can’t stay in it.”
Song Qing looked up at her.
This statement was actually very contradictory — because he had already lived here for over ten days, gone in and out countless times, even slept on her princess bed.
Wrapped in the frilly quilt she brought, surrounded by a pink mosquito net, wearing the fluffy pajamas she bought, dressed up by her like a little princess, held in her arms for warmth.
“I have mysophobia of the spirit — men going into my room, I don’t like it.”
The Song Qing who went in and out twenty times a day at minimum, silently listened.
“From now on, not allowed anymore. No bringing people into my room or Grandma’s room.” She handed him a bunch of keys, “These are the keys to the sunroom door on our side. From now on, when you go in and out, you have to lock the door — don’t let anyone else in. Aside from the two of us, no one is allowed.”
She added, “My parents, my siblings — not allowed either. I also don’t like them coming into my or Grandma’s room. The kitchen can be entered from the outside. I’ve already locked the kitchen door on our side. In the future, after you use the kitchen, also lock the kitchen door on this side. Don’t let anyone come in. Anyway, aside from you, no one can enter my or Grandma’s room.”
Song Qing stared at her blankly.
Her parents, her siblings — all not allowed. But he was?
Not only her room, even her grandmother’s too. Just yesterday, the two of them had leaned on her grandma’s bed and flipped through the photo albums her grandma had collected — all of them were photos of her when she was little, lots and lots of them.
There were also many good albums, filled up an entire display cabinet. Many details could be seen, her grandma really loved her.
She was someone who was watered with love growing up, always had a big tree to help block wind and rain for her, so when that big tree suddenly disappeared, she couldn’t accept it, and thus developed depression.
Depression is a very strange illness. It can forgive the parents’ negligence, understand the younger brother’s nonsense, but just refuses to forgive oneself.
Only people who are kind inside are prone to get this illness.
While he was still in a daze, Nan Zhi had already handed him the key.
She didn’t look at the conflict between him and Fang Guanqi, and she didn’t comfort him, but her actions were more reassuring than anything else.
She took Fang Guanqi away, and told him: from now on, no one else is allowed to enter her room — except him.
His position in her heart was far, far higher than he thought. It seemed to be the only one, unique and unmatched.
Song Qing stuffed that bunch of keys into his pocket. The heart that was feeling down just now suddenly came alive again. He wheeled himself out to continue cooking.
The clothes that had been tossed around earlier — he planned to pack them after finishing the meal — but when he came back after cooking, empty-handed, the room had already been restored to its original state. Nan Zhi had re-hung the clothes he had pulled down, and the suitcase had been placed in the corner.
When he returned to the room, he saw her moving coal from the car, putting it in one corner. A portion had been brought inside by her and placed beside the heater, ready to be burned at any time.
A piece of coal briquette could burn for ten-something hours, changing it twice a day would be enough.
After Nan Zhi finished, she came into the house and saw him setting out the dishes. She silently passed by to help, and only when everything — bowls, chopsticks, spoons, etc. — was prepared, did she call Fang Guanqi over to eat.
After eating, they discussed going to the supermarket to buy some daily necessities.
Fang Guanqi had no objections.
Nan Zhi’s place belonged to the new countryside area. A small place, but many households had moved in. One village had many people, plus it was near the city’s edge, not considered remote. There were quite a few large supermarkets nearby.
The one closest to her house was around three hundred meters walking distance. In the past, the two of them would eat, and conveniently take a walk there, browse around the liveliness at the entrance of the supermarket, then go play in the newly built park — quite a bit of fun.
Today there were three people, but Fang Guanqi was tall. Nan Zhi, standing on flat ground, had to raise her head to look at him, so it was still like before — she stood behind Song Qing’s wheelchair and was pushed along.
Standing on the rack behind the wheelchair, she was just about level in height with Fang Guanqi.
She and Fang Guanqi were from the same related profession, so there was a lot to talk about. The whole way, they kept talking nonstop.
Aside from not liking people invading her territory, from what could be heard, she actually really admired Fang Guanqi.
He had gone abroad all by himself, to promote traditional Chinese medicine. It was said that many people abroad admired Chinese medicine, felt it was amazing — no surgery, just take some medicine, get some massages, and it would be fine.
Nan Zhi thought that foreign countries were really quite amazing. “You guys can actually close for rest on Saturdays and Sundays?”
Saturdays and Sundays in the country were the busiest time for hospitals — because lots of people had time off and would use it to see doctors.
Usually on Saturdays and Sundays, she didn’t even have time to eat.
“Over there, Saturdays and Sundays are all off. Even supermarkets don’t open,” Fang Guanqi explained.
“Wah!” Nan Zhi calculated, “That’s eight days off in a month — gosh, so nice.”
Song Qing listened to the two of them going back and forth talking the whole time, with no room for him to insert himself.
“So envious of you guys.”
The fourth time now — this was the fourth time Nan Zhi had said things like “envious,” “must be nice,” and so on.
Song Qing finally couldn’t hold back, slightly sped up.
“If you come abroad, you can also be like that.”
Fang Guanqi’s footsteps, without realizing, got faster and faster — from walking slowly to a light jog, gradually struggling to keep up, and in the end, fell behind.
Fang Guanqi: “……”