Chapter 133 The Road Home

At the end of May, Lin Feng finished another round of immunotherapy, but it still couldn't stop the cancer cells from spreading and metastasizing. Lin Yu, accompanied by Jiang Chuan, went to the hospital to visit his aunt.

The two walked through the cold, narrow corridor, the smell of disinfectant strong and pungent. Even through their masks, each breath felt heavy and labored. Lin Yu carried a warm bowl of chicken soup, but her fingertips were icy cold.

Jiang Chuan gripped her stiff fingers and gently pushed open the ward door.

The curtains were only slightly ajar, and the faint morning light fell on Lin Feng's hunched back and withered hands.

She sat curled up on the edge of the bed, facing the gray sky outside the window. The oversized hospital gown hung loosely on her body, wrapping around her thin frame, making her look like a sack of flour that had been emptied out.

Hearing the noise, Lin Feng slowly turned her head. Her once full and rosy cheeks were now deeply sunken, and her ashen skin clung to her cheekbones like the oiled paper of a shadow puppet. Her two button-like eyes, like two dry, deep wells, seemed to sink into her body.

Lin Yu's heart felt like a sponge soaked in water, tightening inch by inch with her gaze, until murky liquid flowed down her cheeks.

My aunt, who used to laugh heartily with her hands on her hips and speak with a strong voice, is now like a wisp of smoke after being drained of blood and flesh by illness. Even though she is sitting right next to me, I always feel an insurmountable distance between us.

Lin Yu placed the lunchbox on the bedside table, quickly stepped forward, squatted down beside the bed, and gently lifted those withered, branch-like hands, as if afraid that they would break if he used the slightest force.

"Where is your uncle?" she asked softly, her fingertips gently stroking her cold skin.

"I went to handle the discharge procedures with Zou Lang." Aunt's voice was hoarse and weak, her gaze still somewhat unfocused. She looked over Lin Yu's shoulder towards Jiang Chuan, forcing a smile at the corners of her mouth.

She grasped Lin Yu's hand in return and said slowly, "Banban, Auntie is tired and wants to go home."

Seeing Lin Yu lower her head in silence, Lin Feng tightened her grip on her hand. "You've been away for so long, and no one has been taking care of the land back home. I wonder how your grandparents are doing."

"Auntie...Auntie also misses her mother a little."

Lin Yu knew that rather than lying in bed counting down the days to death, her aunt would rather see more of the world like a healthy person.

Lin Yu felt a tightness in his throat and blinked hard to suppress the tears welling up in his eyes.

The mask covered most of her face, and where Lin Feng couldn't see, she bit her lip tightly, helpless and utterly resigned. "Okay..." she heard her own dry voice. "Let's go home... together."

Behind her, Jiang Chuan gently placed his hand on Lin Yu's shoulder, as if conveying a silent strength. Lin Feng slowly raised her head, and her previously empty gaze seemed to gain a little warmth when it fell on Jiang Chuan.

"Xiao Jiang, thank you." She nodded slightly. "Thank you for helping us find a house, contacting the hospital... You've really worked hard these past few days."

She paused, as if trying to muster some strength from her exhausted state. "Banban has always been smart since she was little, and she always picks the best boyfriends. Your aunt knew from the first time she met you that you two would definitely stay together..."

These words, a blessing and a trust, drifted lightly into the quiet hospital room.

Lin Yu could no longer hold back, and tears silently streamed down her face, staining her aunt's oversized hospital gown and leaving a small, dark mark.

Jiang Chuan tightened his grip on her shoulder, his voice steady and reassuring. "Don't worry, I'm here for you."

While her uncle and Jiang Chuan were tidying up the ward, Lin Yu quietly slipped into the corridor and dialed Lin Min's number. The call was answered instantly. After briefly explaining the situation, neither of them spoke again, only the faint crackling of the telephone line could be heard.

After a long while, a suppressed sigh came from the mother. "...I know, I'll wait for you at home."

The voice was filled with a despairing sorrow, and even through the radio waves, it weighed heavily on Lin Yu's heart.

Lin Min had planned to bring her parents to Shanghai to visit her once the pandemic stabilized, but her sister didn't even have that much time left. These days, she repeatedly regrets her procrastination and hates herself for underestimating the dangers of cancer.

When she finally realized that Lin Feng was about to leave her, the fear of eternal separation instantly gripped her, leaving her helpless. But now, it seemed that she had no choice but to wait.

In the following days, Lin Yu spent a few days in Shanghai with Lin Feng's family, hoping to make up for his aunt's regret of never having traveled far from home in her life.

They went to the Bund, took a ferry, and took photos with the Oriental Pearl Tower on the riverbank.

My aunt, wearing a woolen hat and a thick scarf, sat in her wheelchair, looking up at the buildings that showcased the city's prosperity and power. Her eyes held a complex mix of emotions, as if she were sighing and lingering.

After lunch, Lin Yu took them to Yu Garden.

My aunt was a little tired, so she sat down on a stone bench next to the rockery to rest. Zou Lang carefully tucked the blanket around her legs.

She bent over, quietly watching the bustling tourists and lively scene, as if she had quietly blended into the noise, but there was a hint of detachment between her brows, as if all this vibrant life had nothing to do with her.

Lin Feng's uncle and brother, who lived in Australia, rushed back as soon as they learned of her illness. After completing their fourteen-day quarantine, they finally met their sister, whom they hadn't seen for many years, in their rented apartment.

But when he saw Lin Feng sitting in a wheelchair, looking so haggard that he was almost unrecognizable, Lin Jun could no longer control his emotions. He knelt down in front of her, held her hand tightly, and buried his face in his sister's thin legs.

Seeing him like this, Lin Feng smiled and comforted him, saying it was so good to see him and Qi Sheng again, and that the whole family could finally be together again.

Qi Sheng stood quietly at the door, his heavy gaze fixed on Lin Feng's withered face, and silently pulled Lin Yu into his arms.

......

The day before leaving Shanghai, Lin Yu decided to give his aunt a bath, hoping to make her as comfortable as possible on her way home.

She moved a small stool to the bathroom door, gently wrapped her arms around Aunt Lin's arm, and carefully helped her up from the wheelchair, moving her step by step into the bathroom.

The moment her clothes were removed, the sight before her eyes instantly brought tears to her eyes.

My aunt's body was so thin that only her bones remained, and a surgical scar on her chest lay there like a grotesque centipede.

His back was covered with large, dark brown charred spots left by chemotherapy, and several dark red bedsores on his tailbone were even more shocking.

Every part of it silently testifies to the cruelty of illness and the helplessness of the body's gradual decline.

Lin Yu blinked hard, suppressing his surging emotions, picked up a soft towel soaked in warm water, and gently wiped the damaged skin, carefully avoiding the ulcers on his body.

Amid the sound of flowing water, my aunt closed her eyes, occasionally trembling slightly from discomfort and letting out suppressed gasps.

"Do you remember when we were little? I put you and Zou Lang in the same bathtub, and you two even fought over a toy."

She slowly turned her head to look at Lin Yu, her voice weak but with a smile. "You were so naughty when you were little, never giving your brother any leeway, pinning him down in the water and beating him hard, making the whole kang (heated brick bed) wet."

Lin Yu couldn't help but laugh when he heard this. "I did bully him a lot back then. I remember once I kicked him off the kang (a heated brick bed) just to fight over an egg."

She looked at her aunt and asked softly, "Didn't you blame me back then? For always bullying Zou Lang like that."

My aunt shook her head weakly, slowly rested her forehead on her knees, and curled up in the chair, as if she had returned to her mother's amniotic fluid.

“I’ve known since you were little that you’re a good kid, and you’ll definitely help your brother when things get really tough.”

"I feel very reassured entrusting him to you."

"Of course." A few drops of soapy water splashed into Lin Yu's eyes, and she quickly closed them, rubbing them vigorously with the back of her dry hands. "We're family!"

......

My aunt ultimately couldn't hold on until she saw her parents one last time. On the way back to her hometown, her breathing grew weaker and weaker, like an oil lamp about to burn out.

Zou Lang pressed the oxygen mask against her face again, watching the faint mist gradually disappear. His aunt's chest rose and fell slowly, finally settling into stillness; her life ended at the age of forty-eight.

Lin Yu and Zou Lang held her on either side, neither of them crying out loud, but silently feeling her body heat slowly fading away in their arms.

It suddenly started raining on the highway. The cold rain seemed to want to take away this once vibrant life, blurring her life story in the leaden-gray clouds.

Lin Yu sat beside her, her gaze unable to leave the face that had been completely changed by illness. In her eyes, which had lost all their luster, was the peace and relief of finally seeing her home after traversing a long and arduous journey of illness and suffering.

She slowly reached out and closed her aunt's eyes, tears silently streaming down her face. Lin Yu quickly turned her face away and looked out at the endless rain outside the window.

Due to the impact of the pandemic, the funeral arrangements needed to be simplified as much as possible, but for Lin Yu, who had never experienced any of this before, the whole process was still complicated and lengthy.

Her memories of the past few days were extremely vague, scattered in fragments in her mind. She couldn't remember who she had met, what she had said, or even how she had managed to get through it.

Amidst the pungent smoke of incense and candles, she resembled a soulless puppet, mechanically following the flow of greetings and farewells.

Qi Sheng and Jiang Chuan had only met once before, on the way to take their aunt home, but they developed an extraordinary understanding while arranging their aunt's funeral.

Together they checked the funeral home's procedures, confirmed every detail, arranged transportation, received relatives and friends who came to mourn, comforted their emotionally distraught family members, and even had Zou Lang write down every single piece of the monetary gifts they received in a notebook.

There was no extra communication between the two, yet they always appeared precisely when the other needed something, handing over something.

The hardest person to face was my maternal grandparents. I had been carefully keeping the news of my aunt's serious illness from them. It wasn't until I returned from Yichang at the beginning of this year that I could no longer hide it from them and had to tell them the truth.

Lin Feng died on her way home, unable to see her parents one last time. This unexpected outcome became an insurmountable obstacle in Lin Min's heart.

During this time, she had to force herself to comfort her parents while being consumed by self-blame in the quiet of the night. If it weren't for Liu Wenbin's comfort, she was afraid she wouldn't have made it through.

Lin Min had been worried that her mother's health would collapse after losing two close relatives in succession. But when she actually heard the news, the old woman did not faint or wail as expected.

It seemed that from the day she learned of Lin Feng's illness, she had slowly and helplessly accepted this worst possible outcome. When the final result finally arrived, her emotions had been completely exhausted and digested by these countless rehearsals.

As if she had anticipated everything, she slowly got up, moved step by step to the window, and stared blankly at the poplar sapling that Lin Feng had planted two years ago with her own hands, with her eyes that were no longer clear.

That day, Grandpa, unusually, didn't go out for a walk. He cleaned the room where Lin Feng had stayed again, but in the end, he couldn't wait for the room's owner to return.