Song Qing was dazed, for a brief moment thinking he was hallucinating, because he was very clear, Heaven would not pity him. Not only that, it even feared he was doing well, constantly adding suffering to his life, trying to crush his spine that was not particularly tough to begin with, beat down his spirit.
No one knew that when he woke up after being heavily struck, seeing the medical staff respectively carrying him and his leg, that kind of breakdown feeling.
He could sense his own breathing breaking apart, the string in his brain suddenly being pulled tight by someone, only the very middle little bit was still connected, and it too could not bear weight, constantly in a state ready to snap.
He knew the consequence of that string breaking — he would go insane, become a fool, like the vagabond at the village entrance, living a muddle-headed life not knowing whether it’s morning or evening, living off picking up trash and things others didn’t want, one day walking past the park and stepping into air, falling into the river, just like that quietly and silently ending his messed up life.
So he desperately comforted himself, “It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s okay, just lost a leg is all, didn’t die, as long as I’m not dead, there’s still hope.”
In the constant struggle, he finally retrieved his own sanity, let that string return to original.
Just looked like it on the surface, actually it was still at the verge of snapping anytime, only being forcefully suppressed.
Song Qing sometimes really couldn’t understand, why Heaven could repeatedly, repeatedly torture a single person, and just refused to let him go.
Did he commit murder and arson in his previous life? Finally survived the leg-breaking part, right after that heard with his own ears his uncle and aunt colluding with relatives to make him commit suicide to scam money, was abandoned by uncle and aunt, owed medical fees, had no survival ability, at any moment facing the risk of being kicked out of the hospital, sleeping on the street, left to live or die.
He always suspected, Heaven wanted to force him to death, not even leaving a sliver of hope.
Obviously what he wanted was very very little, just to live is all.
Maybe it was that he’d been hit by too many blows, one after another, smashed him dizzy, his spirit dazed, for a moment couldn’t even tell if this was a dream, or reality.
During his moment of hesitation, Nan Zhi had thought a lot.
Sure enough it was overthinking before — truth was, the other party even had to consider whether or not to go with her, or rather, didn’t want to be taken away by her.
Boys at this age more or less all have some pride and backbone, not really willing to accept others’ goodwill.
—
Song Qing was still looking at her. Before she appeared, he had imagined many things: satisfying others’ curiosity, lowering himself to beg, living miserably in disgraceful ways, etc. — many ugly and humiliating ways to stay alive.
Compared to those, now was truly much, much better.
She didn’t make things hard for him, didn’t say any mocking words, and there wasn’t even a trace of disdain in her eyes.
It was serious, and it was voluntary. Since it was voluntary, then of course she had considered the follow-up trouble of taking on a burden.
Struggling alone in the mud pit was really too tiring — he wavered.
After a moment of silence, he finally responded.
“Okay.”
She had given him enough dignity and face. He really had no reason to refuse. Even if she cursed at him, gave him charity, he would still accept — might even feel a bit better, thinking she didn’t lose out too much, at least vented a bit.
He was now completely useless — just a total burden and baggage. The only thing he could give her was emotional release.
He even hoped the other party had some ulterior motive toward him, abuse him, treat him as a punching bag — whatever was fine. All he wanted was just to live.
As long as he was alive, it was enough.
—
Nan Zhi had already made up her mind to help him. She’d already paid the medical fees, no difference now. Originally wanted to persuade him a bit, but before she could, he had already accepted — instead, she was somewhat in disbelief, dazed for a while. Only after a moment did she react, her gaze swept around the narrow hallway and crowded corners, then looked over to the IV drip area.
If they were going to leave, they’d definitely have to wait until the IV drip was finished. When she was watching the drip, she hadn’t thought about taking the other party away — it was because of various sudden events, a spur-of-the-moment idea, so now she could only patiently wait.
Today he had to get one big bottle, two small bottles. The one in use now was the big one. She went downstairs once and wasted quite a bit of time; it was already almost finished, and the two small ones would take at most a few dozen minutes.
Nan Zhi quietly found a place to sit down, waiting while glancing toward his luggage.
Since the person was going to be taken away, naturally the luggage too.
Given how he was right now, movement inconvenient, Nan Zhi took it upon herself to handle the task and began to gather his luggage.
Aside from daily items, there were also some gifts. She originally planned to take them all, but the person said, some were expired. Nan Zhi squatted down and looked through them — they really were.
Those gift-givers were seriously lacking in virtue, giving expired things. Didn’t even feel embarrassed taking that out? Even just buying some fruit worth a few yuan would look better than gifting expired stuff.
“These people — you better remember all of them. In the future, when you visit relatives, give them expired stuff too.”
Nan Zhi had only said it in a joking tone, but unexpectedly, the other party actually responded seriously, then said to her, “I remember very clearly.”
Nan Zhi: “……”
Suddenly didn’t know what to say.
She took all the expired ones and threw them away. While throwing them, she accidentally noticed one box of biscuits had already been opened — and some were eaten.
Nan Zhi lowered her long lashes, and, as usual, pushed it into the trash bin.
Nothing to be shocked about — he didn’t have money, no food or drink, it was very normal for him to eat that.
He had only eaten a few packs, not a big deal.
His luck could still be considered barely okay. Previously, although his uncle and aunt were reluctant, they still made some porridge, brought two mantou [steamed buns] and side dishes to him. Later, it was the hospital nurses who fed him.
Maybe because there were many people — this one thought that one had brought food, that one thought the other had — so a few meals were missed.
Like that old man before, who would always shamelessly call for them, and even complain that sometimes they gave food, sometimes they didn’t.
Because he was too entitled about it, so everyone discussed and decided — no one would bring food anymore. As for Song Qing’s situation, Nan Zhi didn’t know it clearly, but judging from the nurses in the lounge next door who had a pretty good impression of him, he probably never brought it up himself.
When meals were missed, if he got hungry, he’d eat those — expired biscuits to fill his stomach. Fruits and instant noodles were used less, maybe to save them, leave them for after discharge.
There were still people who understood his difficulties. In that pile of stuff, there were cup noodles, and the hot water was coincidentally not far from him. If he opened the packaging, added the seasoning, and found someone to help fetch a little hot water, that would be enough.
There were many people who’d become parents and couldn’t stand to see children suffer — they would help.
He hadn’t rented a wheelchair, hadn’t had a catheter inserted. Usually when he needed anything, it must’ve been other patients’ family members who helped him.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t be this clean.
After figuring it out, Nan Zhi came back and continued to organize his luggage. Underneath the wheelchair was a pouch, just right to put things in.
His personal belongings were very few — only one small carry bag, which could be directly tossed under the wheelchair. Some heavier items like drinks such as Wang Lao Ji [a Chinese herbal tea brand], Nan Zhi temporarily stored them in her own lounge to pick up later.
There was also a box of Red Bull. She thought — for someone who couldn’t even afford food, it was impossible he would drink this. So, after getting his permission, she took it and traded it with a young guy for instant noodles.
Instant noodles were at least a bit more useful to him.
The young guy was different from him — he had money. If he didn’t eat instant noodles, he could still order takeout. Song Qing couldn’t, so in fact it was a win-win. That young guy happened to love drinking Red Bull. When Nan Zhi went over, there were already a few empty cans on his desk.
If you calculated by actual market price, Song Qing still lost out. So the young guy even asked his relative to bring over two bags of chicken legs — Nan Zhi accepted them without politeness.
Because it worked once, the next batch of useless drinks, soy milk powder and such — if they could be traded, she traded them. Sometimes two for one, sometimes she quietly stuffed in some money to make the trade. Even the drinks she had originally planned to temporarily leave in her lounge and pick up tomorrow — all were traded.
When she returned, the area under the wheelchair was basically filled with either dry food like Want Want Snow Cakes [旺旺雪饼 – a popular rice cracker snack] and small bread buns, or bottled mineral water.
Compared to drinks, she felt mineral water was more practical for him.
The IV beside the bed finished, and she had finished tidying up too.
Nan Zhi took out his small carry bag and let him choose clothes for discharge.
The carry bag was very small, so naturally not much could fit. It was unclear whether his uncle and aunt hadn’t packed it seriously or he simply didn’t own many clothes. What Song Qing took out to wear wasn’t even as thick as a hospital gown. In this cold weather, he only had on a short-sleeved T-shirt, a shirt, and a pair of five-point athletic shorts [五分运动裤 – knee-length sports shorts].
It looked very mismatched, but because of his tall and thin frame, it surprisingly looked quite good.
When he was putting them on, Nan Zhi accidentally noticed — he didn’t have the usual embarrassment or shyness of someone from a poor background. He swiftly and neatly took off the hospital gown — inside, he was already wearing the short T-shirt. He just put on a shirt. As for the shorts, who knew when he changed into them, but when Nan Zhi noticed, he had already dressed himself properly. Everything seemed normal. It was only when he lifted the blanket and tried to support himself with his legs — maybe touched the wound — and felt pain, that he froze slightly.
As if he had just realized that his legs were disabled.
Or rather, those legs had followed him for so many years — he had long gotten used to their presence and function. By habit, he instinctively wanted to use them like before, and for a moment hadn’t reacted — forgotten their change. That was normal.
Nan Zhi had recently been learning to cook. She bought the wrong knife — it was really big. The new one hadn’t arrived yet. It was easy to cut herself by accident. But sometimes she’d forget and still use that finger to apply pressure, and only when it hurt would she realize, “Oh, my hand is injured.”
Her situation was a small matter — but Song Qing’s wasn’t.
Nan Zhi, afraid he’d overthink it, immediately walked over and took away the carry bag next to him, drawing his attention away. After confirming he had returned to his senses, she turned the wheelchair to face him.
Thankfully, although he was thin, he had strength. With the angle of the wheelchair adjusted and her securing it in place so it wouldn’t move, he very easily sat down into it.
Nan Zhi let out a sigh of relief.
She was just a normal girl, not particularly strong. If he hadn’t been able to sit up, she honestly worried she wouldn’t be able to manage him either — it would’ve been super awkward.
Nan Zhi moved behind the wheelchair, pushing him out. First, they stopped in front of her lounge — she changed her clothes, took off the nurse’s uniform, and in regular clothing continued pushing him downstairs to handle the discharge procedures.
He no longer owed money — the discharge procedure was mainly to inform all departments that the hospital bed had become vacant, and a new patient could be arranged in.
There were always a lot of people at the hospital. As usual, there was a long line at the service window.
He wasn’t needed for this part. Nan Zhi pushed him to a corner to wait, while she took his documents to stand in line.
—
In the corner, Song Qing, through the large glass window, looked toward the hospital building he had stayed in before.
He had only stayed in the hospital for just over a week. But during that week, he had gone through too, too much — so much that his body and spirit were exhausted. He felt like he’d stayed a very long time, so long that the days were unbearably hard, and he couldn’t hold on any longer — about to die.
The most painful, most tormenting days were all given to that place.
He hoped he would never have to come back again.
Those feelings of hesitation, confusion, helplessness, and suffering — let them all stay there.
He wanted to live a new life.