Life is Like a Journey – Chapter 105
by Little PandaVolume 3: Transition
An Ran
Saving someone feels good for a moment, but afterwards comes the crematorium
[meaning: good deeds can have negative consequences]
Yu Gui didn’t know why she took photos of those chat records. When she came to her senses, she had already wiped away her tears and walked to a café not far from the hospital. She took out her phone again to check.
The girl said: “12 noon, waiting for you at Encounter Café”
Fang Zhiyou replied: “Okay”
Yu Gui pulled her lips into a cold smile, dialed Fang Zhiyou’s number, and after a long series of rings, it was hung up.
In that moment her heart felt empty and cold. The person she had loved since her teenage years was meeting another girl at a café behind her back. She began to feel somewhat sorry for the woman called Zhao Hui.
Yu Gui took a deep breath and pushed open the glass door with wind chimes hanging on it.
An Ran arrived early. By the time Fang Zhiyou got there, the coffee beside her was half empty. The girl in the white dress sat there quietly, her shoulder-length black hair falling on her shoulders. When she saw her, the corners of her lips curved slightly upward.
“Flowers in the mist?”
“The highest good is like water?”
When their secret codes matched, both of them laughed. Fang Zhiyou stirred her coffee and looked up to study her.
“I really didn’t expect that the violent healer who cursed so much in the game that opponents quit would be like this – the contrast is too big”
An Ran smiled too, but gently stopped the waiter who came to refill her cup. She then looked up at her. Meeting an online friend for the first time, she was still a bit shy. Initially she just wanted to meet a friend she felt connected with, unexpectedly the other person turned out to be quite good-looking too.
“I also didn’t expect you…”
She suddenly stopped speaking, just smiling.
Fang Zhiyou was curious: “What?”
“Nothing… it’s just my stereotypes about LGBT people. I always thought you would be some kind of iron T [Chinese slang for very masculine lesbian] with a crew cut.”
Fang Zhiyou’s hair wasn’t actually that short – it reached just past her ears, could be tied up or left loose. Today she had tied up the top portion while letting the rest fall down, with slightly trimmed sideburns, showing a masculine spirit while maintaining feminine grace.
She touched her head, having not laughed heartily in a long time: “During my chuunibyou phase [teenage phase of acting cool/rebellious], I did have that kind of hairstyle, but later I just let it grow out.”
“Is it because your girlfriend didn’t like it?”
“No… I just didn’t have time to maintain it.”
She passed over the menu: “See what you’d like to eat?”
This café was luxuriously decorated with a beautiful environment, and the prices on the menu were quite expensive. An Ran quietly closed the menu.
“No need, I just wanted to meet you. My doctor is waiting for me…”
“Let’s eat first and then go,” Fang Zhiyou worried she thought she couldn’t afford it and urgently wanted to keep her there.
An Ran shook her head gently, her simple reason coincidentally protecting her fragile self-esteem: “I have a medical examination in the afternoon… I really can’t eat… otherwise I would have been eating a lot already hahahahaha”
For a moment Fang Zhiyou couldn’t say anything, seeing her hearty laugh but feeling a trace of heartache: “Then let me take you to the hospital.”
“No need, no need,” An Ran waved her hands repeatedly. Only then did she notice there was a crutch beside her seat as the young woman struggled to stand up.
“My parents are waiting outside for me.”
Strong, independent, and optimistic – these were Fang Zhiyou’s first impressions of her. The person who had existed on screen became more vivid.
The seating was narrow and not convenient for her to move in and out. Fang Zhiyou also stood up, wanting to reach out and help her, but unexpectedly the other person lost her footing, grabbed the chair pulling down the sofa fabric, and her body tilted. Fang Zhiyou quickly wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her in a half-embrace to maintain her balance.
“Hey! What are you doing?!”
Yu Gui picked up the glass from the table in front, calling out flatly: “Fang Zhiyou?”
The other person turned around, shock flashing across her eyes. Before she could say anything, Yu Gui raised her hand.
In that instant, her instinct was to protect An Ran beside her. Ice water poured down over her head, water dripping from her hair ends, her sweatshirt soaked through a large patch.
Yu Gui watched her instinctive reaction, her lips trembling with anger. She turned and gently put the glass on the table, then bit her lip and quickly left without saying a word, only her eyes slightly reddened as she tilted her head back and sniffled, holding back tears.
Behind her came a commotion, people discussing in whispers. Just as she was about to leave the café, Fang Zhiyou moved to chase after her: “Xiaogui, it’s not what you think!”
She had barely taken two steps when there was a sound of tables and chairs falling and cups shattering. Someone screamed.
Fang Zhiyou turned back to see An Ran slowly collapsing to the ground, her face pale. She paused, gritted her teeth while looking at Yu Gui’s retreating figure, but still resolutely turned back to help An Ran.
“An Ran, An Ran, how are you?!” The girl lying in her arms had closed eyes, weak breathing, a deathly pale face, and fine sweat on her forehead.
Fang Zhiyou became panicked, gently shaking her shoulders, when suddenly she was pushed away forcefully, her waist hitting a hard table corner.
Yu Gui returned, crouched down, pulled out a stethoscope from her coat pocket, quickly put it on, and pressed one end to the girl’s chest, turning back to shout: “What are you standing there for? Quick, call an ambulance!”
“Okay, okay,” Fang Zhiyou frantically pulled out her phone: “Yes, yes… Encounter Café, please come quickly!”
While waiting for the ambulance, the heartbeat could no longer be heard. Yu Gui quickly tore open her clothes, pressed her palm down to perform CPR, and was covered in sweat after three minutes.
“Previous medical history?”
“Ah?” Fang Zhiyou hesitated: “I think it’s… ALS…”
Yu Gui froze for a moment, an indescribable feeling welling up inside her. An Ran’s parents and emergency doctors rushed in together, several people hurriedly lifted her onto the stretcher.
“Ranran, Ranran, are you okay?!”
“Ranran, Ranran, don’t scare mom and dad!”
Yu Gui, holding the ventilator bag, jumped into the ambulance and pulled the door closed, creating a boundary line separating her from Fang Zhiyou.
Saving people was instinct, but after seeing her vital signs stabilize, without waiting for the senior doctor to finish explaining the condition, Yu Gui removed her mask and stepped out of the ward.
She truly couldn’t stay there another minute. She took a deep breath of the harsh winter air, standing in the hallway looking down at the silver-wrapped landscape. The snow had stopped, leaving chaotic tire tracks and footprints in front of the emergency center.
When she turned around again, Fang Zhiyou came running down the corridor from far away: “How is An Ran?”
Her first words were actually concern for her safety. Yu Gui looked at her familiar face, familiar expression, yet it felt so strange.
She felt as if she was meeting her for the first time.
Yu Gui wanted to smile to show her magnanimity, but after a while, she found she couldn’t smile, her eyes starting to sting. So she turned around, looking again at the snow accumulated in front of the building, where an elderly couple walked hand in hand into the hospital.
“Her vital signs are temporarily stable.”
Fang Zhiyou breathed a sigh of relief, walked to her left side looking at her, and carefully began: “I’m sorry, Xiaogui, things really aren’t what you think…”
Whether it was from exhaustion or simply not wanting to hear her speak, Yu Gui only felt a buzzing in her eardrums, pulling at her temples until they began to ache.
“Stop, I’m very tired now. I don’t want to hear these things. Seeing is believing, I only believe what I saw with my own eyes.”
“What did you see?! I didn’t want to embrace her, she was about to fall…” Fang Zhiyou raised her voice slightly, anxiously explaining.
“I saw you instinctively protecting her. Language, expressions, and actions can all deceive people, but subconscious reactions cannot. I also saw you abandon me to chase after her…”
Fang Zhiyou interrupted her words: “Didn’t you go back to save her too?”
Yu Gui turned her face away coldly: “That was a doctor’s instinct.”
“Hating her is also my instinct.”
Fang Zhiyou was choked for words. A nurse came running over calling: “Dr. Yu, why are you still here? Dr. Lu has been looking for you everywhere!”
Yu Gui pulled up her mask: “Which operating room?”
“Number five.”
“Okay, I’m going now.”
As she ran away from her, Fang Zhiyou reached out but only caught the corner of her white coat, the soft fabric slipping from her palm.
A void suddenly appeared in her heart, and she abruptly realized that she and Yu Gui couldn’t even argue anymore.
Fighting isn’t a good thing, but is not fighting really a good thing?
She didn’t know, only feeling an unprecedented sadness.
“Why so late?”
When Yu Gui stepped up to the operating table, Lu Qingshi had switched from an electric scalpel to an ultrasonic scalpel, and a burnt scorched smell permeated the air.
Yu Gui also switched to an ultrasonic scalpel: “Some personal matters delayed me.”
Lu Qingshi finished what she was doing, took a moment to look up at her, noting the young person’s eyes were as red as anything, but she said nothing, just kept focused on the surgery, occasionally giving instructions about things to watch out for.
Yu Gui breathed a sigh of relief, also gradually shifting her attention to the patient: “Late-stage breast cancer, is there still hope?”
“Simple, as long as it’s not triple-negative breast cancer, it’s manageable.” Coming from others this might sound overconfident, but with Lu Qingshi, she knew she had the skill to back up such words.
“Is this a newly admitted patient or…” looking unfamiliar.
“Sent over by Qin Xuan,” Lu Qingshi put down the ultrasonic scalpel and reached out: “Hemostatic forceps.”
“Eh?” Yu Gui was slightly surprised.
“Bao Fengnian’s legal wife.”
She couldn’t help but marvel at Qin Xuan’s magnanimity in her heart, saving someone feels good for a moment, but afterwards comes the crematorium.
“Dr. Qin really is…”
“What?” Lu Qingshi raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing,” Yu Gui put down the bloodied instruments as the nurse replaced them with new ones: “If it were me, I would save her too.”
“I’m telling you, you really know how to find work for me, I could have gone home to rest…”
As the surgery ended successfully, Lu Qingshi opened the storage locker to change clothes when Qin Xuan’s voice came from afar.
“Oh, if I had been at the emergency scene I would have done it myself. Please be generous and just consider it practice.”
Lu Qingshi held the phone between her shoulder and ear, taking her bag from the storage locker: “Come on, if we let you operate, the patient probably wouldn’t make it off the operating table.”
The other end giggled: “You know me so well.”
“I’m hanging up now, going home to sleep,” Lu Qingshi closed the locker door, preparing to end the call.
“Okay, I need to get busy too, bye bye.”
“Bye.”
When she walked out of the hospital, dusk had fallen. The tree branches along the road were bare, heavily laden with snow. Messy footprints had made the snow on the ground somewhat dirty. The southern winter was bone-chillingly cold. Lu Qingshi shivered, waved down a taxi, and gave the name of a cancer hospital in the city.
The chemotherapy medicine was bitter and astringent. Even after returning home and drinking a large glass of warm water, Lu Qingshi couldn’t wash away that taste.
She went to wash her hands. Several strands of hair fell into the sink, tangled together, caught in the drain filter.
Lu Qingshi closed her eyes and turned the faucet on full blast. When she came back to her senses, French Fries was standing on its hind legs, front paws tightly gripping her pant leg.
“Meow…” the cry was soft and gentle, blue eyes seeming to hold a grievance, its belly sunken in.
The little one was starving.
Lu Qingshi smiled tenderly, picked it up, opened the cabinet, and filled a bowl with cat food for it. Hamburger also ran out of its cage wagging its tail, looking at her expectantly.
After adding food and water, Lu Qingshi went to the kitchen to make her own food. Her phone was placed against the wall, and the video call connected quickly.
“You…”
“You…”
They both spoke at the same time. Gu Yanzhi smiled, the night making her face appear blurry.
“You go first.”
Lu Qingshi used chopsticks to beat the eggs: “Are you coming back tonight?”
Gu Yanzhi shook her head, holding up the phone and turning in a circle, wearing a hood, her exhaled breath quickly turning to white mist: “Sorry, the rescue operation is halfway through, I can’t get away for now…”
“I see…” the doctor lowered her eyes: “Then go ahead with your work, be careful.”
After being together for so long, she could increasingly detect that barely noticeable hint of disappointment in her flat tone.
Gu Yanzhi felt like her heart had been struck by a lemon, both sour and bitter, with a trace of sweetness.
“Okay, it’s late, finish eating and get some rest soon. Tomorrow… I’ll come home early.”
“Mm.”
The video call ended. Gu Yanzhi turned back to join the rescue operation on site, while Lu Qingshi put vegetables into the boiling pot.
Same world, two completely different lives. Sometimes fate is just that mysterious.
“So you stopped studying after high school?” Fang Zhiyou, wearing protective clothing, sat by the bedside, quietly listening to her talk about past events.
“Yes, my body wouldn’t allow it. Actually, at that time I had already received my acceptance letter, Computer Science at Tsinghua University [one of China’s most prestigious universities, comparable to MIT or Stanford]…” at this point, An Ran gently covered her eyes with her hand.
“I went to register without telling my parents, but ended up fainting on the train. Kind strangers took me to the hospital. From that day on… I couldn’t be without a crutch…”
An Ran’s parents were also beside her. Her father was tall and scholarly, the owner of an internet company. Her mother was gentle and intellectual, a certified accountant. Their family didn’t lack money, but this was an illness that money couldn’t cure.
“We took Ranran to almost every hospital in China, America, Britain, Italy… as long as there was even a glimmer of hope, we were willing to try, but there was nothing we could do…”
An Ran’s mother covered her lips and began crying. An Ran gently held her hand: “Mom… don’t cry…”
An Ran’s father helped his wife up: “Alright, let’s go out first, let the young people talk for a while.”
Fang Zhiyou stood up to see them off. An Ran’s father turned back to thank her: “We’re grateful to you for today. After getting sick, Ranran hasn’t had many friends. Please keep her company more. As parents, we selfishly hope she can live a bit more happily. Sorry to trouble you.”
Fang Zhiyou shook her head: “It’s no trouble, this is what friends should do.”
Father An patted her shoulder, then turned to leave supporting his wife.
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