anxiety
The only sound in the ward was the rhythmic ticking of the instruments. Cheng Zhixu slowly opened his eyes under the effects of the drug, and the first thing he saw was Cheng Xiaorui's face, forcing a smile.
"Mom, are you awake?" He lowered his voice very softly, as if he was afraid of disturbing something.
Cheng Zhixu nodded weakly, his eyes sweeping over his red and swollen eyes and his bandaged hands: "Cheng Cheng, why are you here...and what happened to your hand?"
"It was just an accidental scratch, it's okay." Cheng Xiaorui subconsciously hid his hand behind his back, and this action affected the wound. He frowned slightly, but then quickly smiled, "The doctor said you're fine, you just need to rest well."
This clumsy lie seemed so powerless in the pale ward. Cheng Zhixu looked at him deeply, his eyes, which were somewhat cloudy due to the pain, still sharply captured the panic and fatigue that could not be concealed in the depths of his son's eyes.
"Don't lie to Mom," she said in a weak voice, but with an undeniable penetrating power, "I know my own body...I know it myself."
Cheng Xiaorui's mouth drooped, and his forced composure instantly collapsed. He lowered his head, his fingers unconsciously twisting the corners of his clothes, like a child who had done something wrong.
Just then, the door to the ward opened. Lu Ziyi walked in, carrying an exquisite lunch box. His appearance chilled the already stagnant atmosphere.
He placed the lunch box on the bedside table and said calmly, "Auntie, I'm glad you're awake. This is the porridge I made in the kitchen. The doctor said you can only eat liquid food for now."
Cheng Zhixu looked at him with a complicated expression. She remembered Lu Ziyi. "Thank you, classmate," she said politely but distantly.
Lu Zi also nodded slightly, and turned his gaze to Cheng Xiaorui, who was almost shrinking into the crack of the ground, and his eyes lingered on his slightly trembling shoulders for a moment.
Now is the time. Cheng Xiaorui said to himself in his heart. He took a deep breath, as if he had made a great determination, raised his head, and tried to make his voice sound steady:
"Mom... Actually, I also... had a check-up today." He didn't dare look into his mother's eyes, his gaze fell on the snow-white quilt, "The doctor said that I... am a little anxious. It's just... I think too much, and it's affecting my health." He tried his best to downplay the heavy diagnosis.
Cheng Zhixu's breathing hitched slightly. She didn't speak immediately, but instead looked at her son quietly with those weathered eyes, watching the bloodshot in his eyes and the trembling in his fingers, which he tried to hide.
After a while, she raised her hand, which was not receiving the IV, with great difficulty and gently placed it on Cheng Xiaorui's clenched fist. Her hand was cold, and her skin was dry and rough from the pain and chemotherapy, but that slight touch seemed to carry a tremendous force.
"It's Mom... who's dragged you down." Her voice choked, tears silently sliding down from the corners of her eyes, dripping onto the pillow, spreading a small dark stain. "It's Mom's fault... I let you carry so much alone..."
At this moment, all disguises completely collapsed.
Cheng Xiaorui's tears welled up. He leaned over, resting his forehead on his mother's hand, sobbing like a long-lost child who had finally found his way home. The fear, grievance, and helplessness that had been suppressed for so long finally burst forth with the tears.
"No... Mom... No..." He was incoherent and could only repeat this sentence. It was because he was not good enough, because he did not discover it earlier, because he could not earn enough money to allow his mother to receive better treatment...
Lu Zi also stood aside, watching the scene silently.
He watched Cheng Xiaorui's tears crumble, and the mother's eyes filled with self-blame and pain. He should have felt a sense of control—look, this person who always tried to maintain a little bit of pitiful dignity in front of him was now so fragile and vulnerable.
But strangely, the expected joy did not appear.
Instead, a subtle stagnation, one he hadn't even noticed, passed through his heart. The image of mother and son weeping in each other's arms was like a soft thorn, gently piercing him. This pure bond of familial love, born from suffering, was familiar yet unfamiliar territory to him. He was accustomed to using force and bargaining to obtain everything, including Cheng Xiaorui's "rights of ownership." But now, he discovered that some things seemed impossible to truly possess in this way.
He even had an absurd thought: If Cheng Xiaorui was completely crushed by this double misfortune and became numb, in the end... that didn't seem to be the ending he wanted.
This unfamiliar emotion made him feel a little irritated. He looked away, toward the gray sky outside the window, his jaw unconsciously tensing.
He had intervened in this matter, thinking it was a clear-cut transaction where both parties got what they wanted. But now, he found himself dragged into this emotional quagmire. In the ward, the crying gradually faded, leaving only suppressed sobs and the low hum of the equipment.
Lu Ziyi withdrew his gaze, his face returning to its usual indifference. He walked behind Cheng Xiaorui, without touching him, and said in a low but clear voice:
"Get up when you've cried enough. The doctor prescribed some medicine, remember to take it on time." His tone was still commanding, but if you listened carefully, it seemed to be less sharp than before.
He stayed here not just to supervise his "possessions", but perhaps, without even realizing it, he also wanted to see where this man, burdened with the countdown of his mother's life and his own heavy chains, would go.
Cheng Xiaorui, after crying bitterly, wiped his tears and raised his head. He looked at his frail mother and felt the unignorable gaze behind him.
The road ahead is still dark. His mother's illness and his own mental illness are like two huge mountains, and Lu Zi is the only source of light on this dark road, although this light is cold and full of cost.
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The ward door closed gently behind him, isolating the ticking of the instruments and his mother's faint breathing. Cheng Xiaorui leaned against the cold wall, feeling all the strength drained from his body. He looked up and saw Lu Ziyi standing by the window not far away, his figure long and lonely under the corridor light.
He took a deep breath and walked over, his voice hoarse from crying: "I won't be going to school tonight." After a pause, he lowered his eyelashes and added, "Maybe I won't go in the next few weeks... Please tell the teacher for me."
The air was quiet for a few seconds.
"Don't you want a future anymore?" Lu Ziyi didn't look at him, his eyes still fixed on the dark night outside the window. There was no emotion in his tone, more like a cold confirmation.
Cheng Xiaorui's fingertips curled up, touching the scratch on his palm that hadn't healed yet, causing a slight sting. He raised his head, his eyes filled with a nearly broken determination: "I want to spend more time with Mom in these final moments."
Studies, prospects, future... these things that once suffocated him suddenly became as light as dust in the face of his mother's remaining three months of life.
Lu Ziyi finally turned around, his deep gaze falling on his pale face, which still had traces of tears on it. He stared at him for a few seconds, as if trying to carve his resolute expression into his mind.
"Whatever." In the end, he only uttered these two words, his expression so indifferent that no emotion could be heard. He didn't rebuke, didn't stop, and didn't even show the slightest surprise, as if he had already anticipated this choice.
Cheng Xiaorui assumed Lu Zi would leave, since there was nothing else he could do here. However, Lu Zi simply walked over to a bench at the other end of the corridor, sat down, and took out his phone to process something, showing no sign of leaving.
Night fell completely. Cheng Xiaorui stayed by his mother's bedside, watching as she slipped back into a coma from the effects of the medication. In the silent ward, he was the only one awake, facing the impending final farewell. Fear and loneliness washed over him like a tide, and he clenched his mother's cold hand, as if that were the only way to draw strength.
Nearing midnight, the ward door was gently pushed open. Lu Ziyi walked in, holding a glass of warm water and a bottle of medicine.
"Your medicine." He placed the things on the bedside table, his voice particularly clear in the silence. "It's for anxiety. The doctor told you to take it on time."
Cheng Xiaorui was stunned for a moment before he remembered his heavy medical certificate. He didn't expect Lu Ziyi to remember this as well.
"Thank you," he whispered, taking the cup and swallowing the small pills one by one. A bitter taste spread across his tongue.
Lu Zi didn't leave immediately. He leaned against the wall, silently looking at the city lights outside the window. After a long while, just when Cheng Xiaorui thought he had turned into a statue, he suddenly spoke. His voice was not loud, but it broke the suffocating silence:
"I won't advise you to go back to school."
Cheng Xiaorui looked at him in surprise.
Lu Ziyi's profile appeared a little blurry in the dim light, and his tone remained flat: "Whether it's a waste of time or destroying your own future, that's your choice." He paused, turned his head, and his gaze fell on Cheng Xiaorui as if it were real.
This sentence was like an icy chain, instantly dragging Cheng Xiaorui out of his sorrow and reminding him of the cruel reality. He exchanged a brief moment of companionship for his mother's final peace.
He didn't respond, but just held his mother's hand tighter.
Lu Ziyi stopped talking. He simply stood there, like a silent guard, or perhaps a patient overseer. He offered no false comfort, but simply used his presence to silently mark ownership and the unquestionable countdown.
That night, Cheng Xiaorui experienced the ultimate tenderness and pain before the end of his loved one's life; while Lu Ziyi watched the tragedy coldly from the sidelines, waiting to reap his "trophies".
An extremely complex and twisted companionship relationship was quietly established in this ward filled with the smell of medicine.
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