Life is Like a Journey – Chapter 122
by Little PandaVolume 3: Transition
Wish
One says “thank you,” one says “goodbye.”
“Captain Gu” Fu Lei wore a hospital gown and found her in the hallway with Jiang Jing’s support.
Gu Yanzhi glanced at the two people, her eyes showing no fluctuation, and calmly shifted her gaze away.
“Jingjing,” Fu Lei turned around, Jiang Jing handed him a card, and he took two steps forward, stuffing the card into her hand.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything for her. I think you need money right now, please accept this small gesture.”
It was a gold card, presumably of considerable value. He was right – Qingshi lying in the ICU cost at least tens of thousands per day. Besides, this was what she deserved. Gu Yanzhi neither refused nor thanked him, just nodded slightly and passed by them.
At this point, she no longer wanted to blame anyone. Her only wish was for Qingshi to wake up soon, even if just for one glance, just to look at her would be enough.
The day Fang Zhiyou left, Yu Gui didn’t go to see her off. The two had moved out of their apartment and quietly said goodbye downstairs with their suitcases.
One said “thank you,” one said “goodbye.”
Fang Zhiyou stepped forward, wanting to tuck her wind-blown temple hair behind her ear.
Yu Gui stepped back, shaking her head: “Zhiyou, may your dreams come true.”
Fang Zhiyou smiled through tears: “You too.”
She wanted to say more, but Yu Gui could no longer hold back her tears. She had cried too many times in front of her these days, but at this moment, she didn’t want to expose her weakness.
So she turned around, pretending to wave casually, gesturing not to see her off, letting her come quietly alone and leave quietly.
Fang Zhiyou’s lips trembled twice, the words she wanted to say were never spoken. She watched her silhouette disappear into the sea of people, knowing they would forever walk separate paths.
The crowds surged, cars honked, traffic lights lit up, and people lined up to cross the zebra crossing.
Yu Gui walked step by step, never looking back once, when she heard people nearby whispering: “What’s wrong with her? That woman is crying so badly, did something happen?”
She reached up to touch her face, only then realizing it was covered in tears.
Yu Gui moved back to the hospital dormitory. Hao Renjie helped her organize her things. Seeing her silent and focused on working, his heart softened, and he advised:
“Out with the old, in with the new [idiom: meaning one must let go of the past to embrace new opportunities], don’t take it too hard, the next one will be better.”
Yu Gui’s hand paused while making the bed, mumbling: “Ten years.”
Hao Renjie didn’t hear clearly: “What?”
“We were together for ten years.”
She lowered her head, gripping the sheets tightly as bean-sized tears fell down.
“Ten years, no one will be better than her.”
The plane slowly taxied toward the runway, Fang Zhiyou kept looking out the cabin window, as if at any moment someone would come running to embrace her.
She remembered many things, many trivial matters.
Yu Gui borrowing her homework to copy.
Yu Gui taking notes for her.
Yu Gui’s doodles in her textbook.
The sunsets during classroom duty together.
The blackboard newspaper they drew together.
Getting scolded in the office together.
Feeding kittens together.
Her embarrassed profile when confessing.
Her fingers gripping her clothes during their first kiss.
Her blushing face after their first love-making.
……
The moment the plane took off, Fang Zhiyou knew she had left her best ten years forever in Jinzhou.
After Lu Qingshi’s condition stabilized, Qin Xuan, having finished dealing with matters at the old house, was about to fly back to Shanghai for work. Before leaving, she had something to give her, so she knocked on the Lu family’s door.
Unexpectedly, Lu Xucheng opened the door: “Elder Lu…”
The old man moved aside: “Xiaoqin, come, sit.”
Gu Yanzhi poked her head out from the kitchen: “You’re here, perfect timing to join us for dinner.”
Qin Xuan changed her shoes: “Alright.”
Because of the extra person, Gu Yanzhi made several more dishes. As they ate and chatted, though Lu Xucheng and Gu Yanzhi’s relationship couldn’t be called harmonious, at least they were treating each other with mutual respect.
If Qingshi could see this, she would probably be comforted.
When they were almost finished eating, Lu Xucheng got up with his cane and returned to his room, leaving the space to the young people.
Qin Xuan then took out documents from her bag and handed them to her.
“This is…?”
“Qingshi’s will, I’ve already had it notarized.”
Gu Yanzhi’s heart tightened, her eyes reddening as she held the thin folder without speaking for a long while.
Without thinking, she knew the heir column would certainly contain her name.
If it were before, her stubborn self would definitely not accept it, but now, Gu Yanzhi just smiled gently: “Thank you, I’ll keep it safe for her.”
Before leaving, Qin Xuan looked back at her: “Are you really okay?”
As a doctor’s intuition, she felt her condition wasn’t good. The unusual calmness after such emotional turmoil either meant she had truly accepted it, or she was hiding her pain too deeply.
Gu Yanzhi walked her to the door, shaking her head: “I’m fine. I’ve made up my mind. Even if she becomes a vegetative patient, I’ll stay with her for life.”
“Captain Gu, Captain Gu, you’re here again!” From frequent hospital visits, most medical staff knew her now, occasionally chatting and patting her shoulder in comfort like friends.
Gu Yanzhi just smiled, put on isolation gown at the ward entrance, and entered the ICU with a book under her arm.
Every day, during the fixed two-hour visiting time, from winter to spring, she came without fail through wind and rain.
Lu Qingshi’s bookshelf was well-stocked. In three months, she had finished reading most of the religious philosophy, cultural history, and biological science books. Today she was reading a poetry collection by Borges [author name].
“What can I offer to keep you?”
“I give you the withered streets, the desperate sunset, the desolate moon”
“I give you the sorrow of one who gazes long at the lonely moon”
“I give you my loneliness, my darkness, my heart’s hunger”
…
She read slowly, Lu Qingshi listened quietly – this was their private peaceful moment.
After an hour, Gu Yanzhi put down the book, helped wash her body, and packed the changed clothes into a plastic bag to take home for washing.
Qingshi loved cleanliness, so she did these things every day.
Before leaving, she placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and said goodbye: “See you tomorrow.”
Back home, Lu Xucheng had already gone for morning exercise and bought vegetables. Gu Yanzhi couldn’t help but complain: “Your legs aren’t good, let the housekeeper do these things.”
The old man was so angry he wanted to hit her with his cane: “I can still move just fine!”
Gu Yanzhi smiled and ignored him.
Her cooking was good, and the old man couldn’t help but eat a few more bites. Then, thinking of his granddaughter lying unconscious in the hospital bed, he let out a long sigh.
“Is this how you plan to continue?”
Gu Yanzhi mumbled with chopsticks in her mouth: “Mm.”
“That’s not what I meant,” the old man’s expression grew unusually serious.
Gu Yanzhi froze, looked up at him, seemed to understand something, then quickly lowered her head.
“Yes, I won’t look for anyone else.”
Lu Xucheng had lived his whole life being conservative and orthodox [meaning: traditional and rigid in values], never dreaming his granddaughter would become homosexual, and her partner would be such a stubborn, single-minded person.
The old man’s lips trembled, seeming helpless about their situation, but quickly calmed down: “Don’t you feel it’s unfair to you?”
“Her loving me is the greatest fairness,” she answered candidly, her gaze clear and bright.
Lu Xucheng looked at her for a long while, his expression unreadable. Having worked in hospitals most of his life, he never believed in such things as love and emotion – they were as fragile as paper in the face of natural disasters and human suffering, life and death.
Yet coming from her mouth, though spoken lightly, the words carried weight.
These days, her endurance, her pain, her tears, her care and concern for Qingshi…
The old man saw it all and understood.
“I’m returning to Beijing tomorrow, I won’t trouble you anymore.”
“Stay a while longer, wait until Qingshi wakes up…” Gu Yanzhi tried to keep him.
Lu Xucheng shook his head: “How much longer can I live? Even in death, one’s soul returns home [idiom: meaning to die in one’s hometown]. Besides, school is starting soon, I need to get back to teach the children.”
During these days, Lu Xucheng could have stayed in a hotel, but at her insistence, he stayed in the guest room. Thanks to him, this home wasn’t so empty, and thanks to him, she could share her pain – two people who had nearly lost their only family in the world, depending on each other to survive.
Lu Xucheng’s presence was another kind of warmth for Gu Yanzhi, even if he did nothing.
And Gu Yanzhi was the same for him – she was the closest person to Lu Qingshi, and from her, he heard many interesting stories about his granddaughter.
In all the years he had been absent from Lu Qingshi’s life, she had grown up into an independent, strong, and excellent doctor with outstanding skills who always put her patients first.
And she had someone who, no matter when or where, would always love her, respect her, and support her.
That was enough.
Most elders’ only wish for their children isn’t for them to achieve great success, but to have a lifelong partner to grow old with and live an ordinary life.
“Sometimes I think, if I hadn’t taught Qingshi to be so… so…” he couldn’t find the right words. His trembling fingers lifted the wine glass from the table, drinking it all at once, his bronze-colored face turning red.
“If only she could have been a bit more selfish.”
Lu Xucheng’s eyes reddened, and Gu Yanzhi’s eyes welled up too as she poured herself a glass of wine and brought it to her lips.
“The day before she returned from Beijing, she went to see you.”
Lu Xucheng froze: “When?”
“On New Year’s Eve, while you were still teaching.” Thinking of the past, Gu Yanzhi’s tears fell again. Even the burning sensation of baijiu in her throat couldn’t match the pain in her heart.
“She heard what you said then. Qingshi… she had already forgiven you.”
Lu Xucheng suddenly broke into tears, wiping them with his rough hand. Gu Yanzhi handed him tissues, and at this moment, it was unclear who was comforting whom.
“Even now, though I’m in pain, I’m proud of her. My love is the world’s best doctor.”
The next day, after visiting Lu Qingshi at the hospital, Lu Xucheng prepared to leave. In the hospital room, the old man put down his cane, sat by the bed, and placed his hand over Lu Qingshi’s.
“I’m also proud that the Lu family has such an outstanding doctor. After a hundred years [meaning: after death], I can face her parents without shame.”
How long had Lu Qingshi waited for this acknowledgment while alive? Now, when life and death hung in the balance, it was finally spoken.
Lu Xucheng’s face showed relief: “I should have said these words to her long ago. But with you by her side, I’m at ease.”
Gu Yanzhi’s eyes grew hot, nearly crying again: “Elder Lu…”
The old man immediately bristled: “What should you call me in front of Qingshi?”
Gu Yanzhi wiped her tears and, without hesitation, called out clearly, “Grandpa.”
The old man’s wrinkled face bloomed like a flower: “Ah!”
Besides Gu Yanzhi, Yu Gui also visited her often. Although the Emergency Department and Neurosurgery were separated by a building, the young doctor still frequently found time to run to her ward.
Sometimes to discuss the case with her attending physician, sometimes to talk alone in the ward for hours.
“Teacher Lu, the director praised me today, said my laparoscopy skills were quite good, asked me to present at the department meeting…”
“Teacher Lu, I’m about to take the medical licensing exam. I should pass this time, right? I have a feeling if I pass, I can stay in the Emergency Department…”
“Teacher Lu, remember Miaomiao? Her parents brought a banner of appreciation. They’re planning for a second child. Though not born yet, they’ve already picked a name – He Ershui [name, meaning: Second Water].”
“The patients we treated before are all doing well now. Dai Yuchen joined the school team again, she’s preparing to apply for Beijing Sports University…”
“And Wu Xinyu and Wu Xinyuan, the sisters – one is teaching at an online tutoring institution, the other published her own art collection. Their lives are getting better and better.”
Yu Gui bent down and placed the art book at her bedside: “They heard you were sick and have been wanting to visit you. This is a gift from Xinyu.”
As she spoke, she lowered her head, gripping the fabric at her knees, tears as large as beans falling onto the floor.
“Me, Sister Haoren, Senior Brother, Sister Chen, and… Captain Gu, we’re all waiting for you to wake up, Teacher Lu… when will you get better…”
Lu Qingshi’s hospital room was quiet and peaceful, with a gentle breeze lifting the window curtains, and the gardenia on the bedside table spreading its fragrance.
In the Emergency Department without her, everyone was growing at lightning speed as if injected with chicken blood [meaning: extremely energetic and motivated]. Yu Gui hadn’t cried for a long time, even after breaking up with Fang Zhiyou – she had been too busy to remember her sadness.
Her secret base used to be the rooftop, now it was this hospital room. Only here, only by Lu Qingshi’s side, could she return to being that naive young doctor who knew nothing, freely showing her vulnerability.
To her, Lu Qingshi was faith, mentor, sister, and warmth.
At the tail end of spring came Gu Yanzhi’s birthday.
Lu Qingshi had been in a deep coma for over three months now, and doctors said the possibility of her waking up was very small.
Even so, she still went to the hospital every day, day after day.
Visiting time was only two hours each time. After finishing reading a book, she would hurry to change her clothes and wash her body.
The last surgery had left a centipede-like curved, deep, and long scar on her scalp. Every time she saw it, Gu Yanzhi’s heart would ache, her eyes reddening.
The scar-fading ointment she had begged from the dermatologist slowly melted in her palm as she gently applied it, massaging the scalp.
All her beautiful hair had been shaved off. Gu Yanzhi’s heart ached beyond measure; each look was like torture to herself.
The two hours were up, but today she didn’t want to leave. The medical staff hadn’t come to rush her, so she lay by her bed again, holding her hand, quietly watching her.
Tears fell silently as she covered her lips to prevent herself from crying out.
“Qingshi, today is my thirtieth birthday. In all the past years, I’ve never made a birthday wish. Only today, I wish for your early recovery.”
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