Entrust My Life To You - Chapter 41

Translated by: RandomAlex

(Sentences in bold letters are written in English in the original text.)

The Doctor’s grandparents have a big yard, and the old couple planted many trees. Not flowers, not grass, but trees. Small Camphor trees, small Cycas, small Winter Sweets. In the afternoon, the old couple sat side by side on the balcony to bask in the sun. Looking at their backs, I thought of how nice it would be if Gu Wei and I could do the same in a few decades, holding hands and talking to each other.

I once asked Gu Wei, who it would be if it wasn’t me.

Gu Wei thought for a moment and said that he might find a colleague, a doctor or a hospital administrator.

I asked viciously why. He said that as he gets older, his parents will be anxious, and he doesn’t have enough time to find a relationship, so he should accept if his parents or colleagues introduced him to a person in the same work or circle. If he found a doctor too, that person won’t think he’s busy at work. If he finds an administrator, there would be someone who can pay more attention to the family. Then the two get to know each other properly, fall in love, get married, have children, and live a life.

He spoke plainly.

I can imagine him smiling with another white coat. I will not hypocritically comment on whether it is love or not; Because if it were not for Gu Wei, I might have also found a suitable partner in the eyes of others, in the same circle, and face the same love and marriage process. Lovers in the same work circle always understand each other better than cross-circle lovers because of the similarity in the nature and content of their work. I can understand this mode of love and marriage, so I felt a little empty pain in my heart.

I looked into his eyes and imagined the difference between the way he looks at me now and the way he looks at his ‘possible girlfriend’.

Gu Wei quietly let me stare at him. He is always calm and honest in front of me.

“If I had studied medicine, by now, our children would have bought soy sauce. Ah, all these years have been wasted.”

(TNote: buying soy sauce = typically the first independent thing for a child around first grade elementary/kindergarten to go buy at the store on their own. The first milestone errand.) 

Gu Wei smiled shallowly: “How busy would that be… “

I pinched his earlobe: “If you hadn’t been busy, I wouldn’t have found you.”

Gu Wei has always thought that being a doctor is a very unsuitable profession for love. Constantly tired, busy, and not free. He tried very hard to make up for these deficiencies and didn’t say anything, but when he looked at me, there was always a touch of apology. In the past three years, his initial approach, from the later hesitation, and then to the determination and efforts, I saw it in his eyes. It made me feel distressed for no reason.

I quickly changed the subject: “Doctor, which was better, Chinese or English, when you were at school?”

Gu Wei thought for a moment, “English.”

Two tragic science students…

“Ah, In the future, if the result of the Chinese examination paper that the child brings back is too ugly. Should I teach or not? If you don’t teach him, you won’t be able to pass it on. If you teach him, he’s not genetically good. Well, I’ll tell you what. From now on, I’ll do all the day-to-day teaching, and I can also do ideological work. I’ll wait for you to come home for the spanking when naughty. Let’s split up the work first.”

Gu Wei chuckled: “You changed the subject again.”

During the Lantern Festival in 2012, the family ate Yuanxiao together, and Gu Wei went to the bedroom to call Grandma.

(Tnote: Yuanxiao[元宵] =a traditional Chinese seasonal food. It is usually made of glutinous rice, filled with fillings, sweet such as sesame, red beans, peanuts, and salty fresh meat.)

One minute later: “Xiao Xiao, Xiao Xiao! Call 120!”

We spent that night in the hospital.

The director of the imaging department flipped through the CT scans one by one, and finally said nothing and patted Gu Wei on the arm.

Gu Wei looked at the scans on the screen and did not move or speak. After a long time, he nodded and thanked him and led me out. Although he had been psychologically prepared for a long time, he still felt ‘chest tightness’ when the real day came.

Compared with Gu Wei, Grandpa is much calmer. Two weeks later, he shook his Grandmother’s hand and said, “shall we go home?”

The Grandmother in the hospital bed nodded calmly.

Gu Wei had obviously lost weight, and he insisted on going back to his grandparents every other day. I stroked the protruding bone of his wrist and still said nothing.

Early April. 4: 00 A.M.

I didn’t sleep well. In the dark, my phone vibrated. I woke up suddenly and pressed the answer button–

“Grandma is dying.”

I heard the low voice of Gu Wei and my heart sank.

“I just called Chen Cong and asked him to cover for me early.” He had to make sure that there is someone on the job.

I washed and changed, ran out of the school gate, stopped a taxi and rushed to the hospital. It was still dark and I saw Gu Wei running out of the building. The light in the hall behind him could only show the white breath he exhaled, but I couldn’t see his expression. None of us spoke on the way, and the atmosphere in the car was silent and depressing.  When waiting for the red light, I saw his index finger slowly pressing the steering wheel but could only caress his arm.

When we got home, he rang the doorbell and my hand hurt when he held it. The door was opened quickly, and the Doctor’s mother whispered, “come in.”

We went straight to the bedroom and the old lady was lying in the arms of the doctor’s father.

The Doctor knelt gently on the carpet beside the bed and held out his hand to hers.

The old lady squinted her eyes and looked at him slowly, her thumb gently whirling, her eyes turned to me, and her lips moved silently.

I took the Doctor’s shoulder and looked at the gentle and tenacious elderly. After a lifetime of ups and downs, she closed her eyes in the surrounding of her children and grandchildren, as if she had fallen asleep. At 05:57, the Doctor’s father drew out his hand to feel the side of her neck and shook his head. “She’s gone.” In the thin morning sun, she died peacefully.

The Doctor held her hand and let it go gently. The Doctor’s mother came forward to change the elderly’s clothes, and we withdrew.

I led the Doctor to the closed balcony and squinted at the sun slowly spreading across the horizon, passing through the faint morning haze peculiar to this season.

The Doctor sat on a small square table on the balcony, the chessboard engraved on the wooden table had faded, and the surface was smooth due to years of wiping. He slid his finger across the dent: “When I was a child, my Grandfather taught me to play chess on this table, and my Grandmother and I played chess against him.”

I stroked his back, and the Doctor blinked slowly, put his arms around my waist and buried his face in my arms. The air was a little cold in the morning, and his breath pressed warmly against my chest. I stroked his hair: “You can continue to use it to teach our children in the future.”

Life is always going round and round, and we can’t control its coming and going. Therefore, we face what we have experienced, cherish what we are experiencing, and hold out hope for what we are about to experience. In this way, at least when we leave, we can be peaceful and have no regrets.

Since childhood, I have attended many funerals, the most recent one was a junior, and the one who passed away was my classmate, a genetic disease. It was a funeral that everyone found unacceptable—so young, so sudden. She was alive with us three months ago.

At the funeral, a foreign student made the last speech, which I still remember to this day.

“During our lives, there’ve always been departures with families, friends, or lovers.

They passed way, ran away, or just disappeared, things that you can’t control. It’s terribly insufferable however, you will accept it in the end, watching their receding backs.

Until one day, we know how to lose, how to gain, how to cherish what we have with them. Then we finally learn how to say goodbye.

Wish that her best times were spent with you, and with her forever.”

Gu Wei is the eldest grandson, and the task of keeping filial piety is heavy. He hasn’t slept since he closed his eyes on my shoulder for a quarter of an hour in the morning. After the memorial hall was arranged, the Doctor changed into a black coat to receive those who came to mourn.

After three days of the wake, Gu Wei hardly slept.

“Xiao Xiao, take Xiao Bei to rest.” the Doctor’s mother patted me on the arm.

I went to take Gu Wei by the hand. I pulled him into the study, and put him on the armchair: “Get some sleep.”

He looked at me and said nothing.

I took his hand and said, “close your eyes and rest.”

Gu Wei blinked and closed slowly. I leaned against the desk in front of him and saw that his breathing was steady, but he was wavering. His eyebrows were tight and loose for ten minutes. Then he opened his eyes and looked at me without speaking.

I straightened up and was pulled forward by him.

Two hands reached in from the bottom of my sweater, looped around my waist, and crept up slowly, sticking to my shoulder blades, tightening, and his face against my chest.

I kissed him on the forehead and hugged him on the shoulder: “I’m here to watch you.”

Gu Wei finally fell asleep like this.

Special Dialog

Doctor: “…”

(…)