Chapter 74
In May, the wind in Province D still carried a lingering chill. The white walls of the military hospital had been scoured gray by days of rain, shallow puddles forming at their bases, reflecting the gray sky. The faint scent of Lysol wafted through the corridors, mingling with poplar catkins that had wormed their way in through the windows, leaving a thin layer of white on the ground, like an early snowfall. Occasionally, a medical staff in white coats hurried by, their rubber shoes squeaking on the terrazzo floor, echoing far down the empty corridor.
Xiao Ming covered his left arm as he walked towards the nurses' station. The wound under the bandage ached slightly, as if a small snake was crawling in his flesh. It was left over from the last assault - when he raised his camera and smashed it at the Russians who were crossing the border, he was hit in the arm by the butt of their gun. Thinking of the muffled sound at this moment, he didn't feel any pain, but rather a little secretly proud. The chip on the camera lens made him feel more at ease than any medal of honor, as it was proof that he was not a coward on the battlefield. He glanced down at the camera hanging around his neck. The scratches on the metal casing shone coldly under the light in the corridor, like medals.
"Xiaoming." A head popped out of the nurses' station window. It was Qi Xiaoxue, the woman in charge of changing the dressings. Her round, apple-shaped face looked especially tender against her white coat. Her eyes were like black grapes soaked in water, and when she smiled, the dimples on her cheeks could catch the sunlight. "It's your turn."
Xiao Ming was about to respond when his back suddenly felt hot as if being pricked by needles. He turned sharply and met a pair of sparkling eyes. A girl in a green military uniform, with two thick braids tied with red string, stood in the sunlight at the end of the corridor, like a newly sprouted corn, full of vigor and vitality. Her smooth forehead was revealed beneath the brim of her military cap, and a few strands of hair were blown to her cheeks by the wind. She raised her hand and gently tucked them behind her ears.
It was that educated youth, Xiao Ming's girlfriend. Xiao Ming's mind buzzed, his journalistic instinct instantly bringing her face to mind—the last time they'd taken photos of the soldiers at the camp, she'd stood beside him, her face flushed as she handed him a cloth bag, her eyes gleaming brighter than the sun in the lens. But now, his heart felt like it was being gripped, pounding like a drum, his eardrums aching. He quickly gave her a barely perceptible nod, his hand unconsciously pressing against his chest. He turned and practically trotted over to the nurses' station, his ears already red as if they'd been roasted by charcoal.
"Comrade, what's wrong with you?" Qi Xiaoxue saw that he was sweating profusely, his hair soaked with sweat, and quickly fished out a piece of clean gauze from the drawer and handed it to him. "Your face is so red, is the wound inflamed?" Her voice was soft, with a touch of the directness unique to Northeastern girls, and the ending tone was slightly upturned, like a feather scratching the tip of my heart.
"No, no..." Xiao Ming shook his head, his Adam's apple rolling, and he couldn't say the next word for a long time. He couldn't explain what was wrong. Every time he ran into that girl, his mind was as empty as a bombarded battlefield. He just wanted to stare at her, but he was afraid of being discovered. As soon as this thought came to his mind, he suddenly raised his hand to support his forehead - Xiao Ming was his brother in the military district, how could he have any thoughts about his brother's girlfriend? If this got out, he would be drowned in spit in the military district, and his brother Xiao Li would definitely break his legs.
Seeing his dazed look, Qi Xiaoxue warned him, "Don't bear it if you're really feeling unwell. The weather's unusual right now, fluctuating between hot and cold. You can't be careless with your wound." As she spoke, she untied his bandages, her movements as gentle as if handling fragile porcelain. As the alcohol swab rubbed against the wound, Xiaoming grimaced in pain, though it did manage to calm his panic. The cold sweat that oozed from his forehead mixed with the warm sweat from earlier and trickled down his cheeks.
Across the hallway, Qian Fangyan clutched the hem of her clothes, her fingertips practically digging into the fabric, her heart pounding even faster than Xiao Ming's. She'd never expected to hear the name "Xiao Ming" again here. Before coming, she'd sifted through the hazy biography in her memory—General Xiao Ming's wife was a nurse at the military hospital. They'd met while he was recovering from his injuries. The nurse was professional and attentive, slowly warming his heart like spring rain moistening a field. She'd come here to try her luck, to see what the future general's wife looked like, but she'd heard this familiar name the moment she arrived at the nurses' station.
What made her even more confused was that the person who called "Xiao Ming" was actually the young reporter who had taken photos of them. And the nurse who called his name, her features matched the description of "Qi Xiaoxue" in the biography - a round face with two dimples when she smiled, and she spoke softly but with a sense of competence. Qian Fangyan stood by the window, her fingers scratching the wall unconsciously, looking at the figure inside who was bending down to change the dressing, a thin layer of sweat on the back of her neck. She remembered that it was written in the biography of General Xiao that General Xiao was injured in the battlefield in Northeast China when he was young, leaving a conspicuous scar on his arm... She quietly looked at the bandage, and suddenly felt that the profile of this young reporter was more like General Xiao than the General Xiao she had seen from afar in her memory. Did she remember it wrong? Or are there really such coincidences in this world?
Qi Xiaoxue was applying ointment to Xiaoming's wound, the cotton swab gently gliding across the flesh, bringing a cool sensation. "Your wound is healing well, just don't use too much force, or it'll split open easily." She looked up and saw Xiaoming glancing down the hallway. Following his gaze, she saw only the back of a figure in a green military uniform. "What are you looking at?"
"No, nothing." Xiao Ming hastily averted his gaze, his cheeks starting to heat up again, as if he'd been sunburned. He stared at Qi Xiaoxue's serious profile and suddenly remembered what his sister-in-law, Wang Xuemei, had said: "This girl is the most capable nurse in the hospital. Last time, she worked through the night to save a seriously injured patient." But his mind was a mess, alternately Qian Fangyan's bright eyes and Xiao Ming's grin, disturbing him.
Before Qian Fangyan could comprehend her thoughts, Xiao Ming had already changed his medicine and emerged. His tall figure, swathed in a washed-out military coat, his left arm hanging awkwardly, walked steadily, like a windswept poplar. Qian Fangyan took a deep breath, grasped the red string at the end of her braid, and walked forward. Her heart was pounding like a rabbit, and her palms were sweating.
"Hello, comrade." She tried to make her smile look natural, tilting her head with just the right amount of curiosity. "Is your name Xiaoming too? What a coincidence."
Xiao Ming shuddered at the call of "comrade," like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He looked up and met the light in her eyes, brighter than the icicles on the XX River, and instantly made him tongue-tied. "Hello... Yes." His face flushed brightly, spreading from his cheeks to his ears and even staining his neck with a layer of pink. He felt the blood rushing to his head, and his mind had only one thought: run.
"Xiao Ming!" A hand suddenly patted his shoulder, neither too hard nor too soft, with a familiar smell of disinfectant.
Xiao Ming jumped in fright, nearly leaping to his feet. He turned around and saw Wang Xuemei, wearing a green military uniform with a Red Cross badge pinned to her collar, looking at him with a half-smile. "Have you changed the medicine? I'm just about to get off work, so we can go home together." Wang Xuemei's gaze flickered between Xiao Ming and Qian Fangyan, a flicker of understanding in her eyes.
"Sister-in-law, sister-in-law!" Xiao Ming looked like he had seen a savior, or like a thief caught in the act. He lowered his head even lower, wishing he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into. He secretly glanced at Qian Fangyan, and saw the smile on her face froze for a moment, which made him feel even worse.
Wang Xuemei had seen his face flush as he looked at Qian Fangyan. At first, she'd thought the boy had some kind of crush on her. Only when she got closer did she realize she was the educated youth Xiao Li had mentioned—Xiao Ming's girlfriend. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quietly stepped closer to Xiao Ming, separating them like a wall. She nodded to Qian Fangyan, "Comrade Qian, are you here too? We'll go back first."
Qian Fangyan watched the two people walk away side by side. Xiao Ming's ears were still bright red, as if they were painted with rouge. Wang Xuemei turned her head from time to time to say something to him, and he would suddenly shrink his neck like a child who had done something wrong. She stood at the door of the hospital, looking at the poplar trees sprouting in the distance. The poplar catkins floated over like snow and landed on her military cap. Suddenly, she understood a little - maybe there were never two "Xiao Ming" in the biography, but she just mixed up the details, or she found the wrong person. But how should she correct this mistake? She came here to find General Xiao Ming to be his wife, but now she can't even recognize him.
On the way home, the wind blew poplar fluff against my face, like crawling insects. Wang Xuemei saw Xiaoming still in a daze, his eyes wandering, and couldn't help but knock on the back of his head: "What are you thinking about? Your face is still red."
Xiao Ming suddenly came back to his senses and waved his hands hurriedly: "No, I didn't think about anything." His voice was still a little trembling, as if it was blown by the wind.
"Let me tell you something," Wang Xuemei stopped laughing, her tone darkening, her eyes growing serious. "Who in the entire military region doesn't know that Comrade Qian is Xiao Ming's girlfriend? You can't be confused. You two may share the same name, but the issue of conduct cannot be ambiguous. If any gossip really breaks out, your brother's temper will break your legs, no matter who's talking."
Those words were like a bucket of cold water, pouring down on Xiao Ming's head, sending a chill through him. He shuddered, completely awakening. Yes, Xiao Ming was not only his brother, but also a soldier defending his country, perhaps even training with his father right now. How could he have such a ridiculous thought? He was truly sorry for his brother.
"Sister-in-law, I get it." He clenched his uninjured right hand, his knuckles turning white and the veins on the back of his hand bulging. "I won't do it again."
The chill in the wind seemed even stronger, rustling the willow branches along the roadside, as if whispering a reminder. Xiaoming gazed toward the distant military compound, where rows of gray bungalows appeared as a hazy outline in the twilight. The inexplicable tug in his heart remained, like a thin thread, but weighed down by a heavy layer of restraint, making it almost suffocating. In the late spring of 1961, even the wind had its rules, forbidding even the slightest thought of crossing the line. He took a deep breath, suppressed those inappropriate thoughts, and followed Wang Xuemei home, step by step, each step feeling particularly heavy.
Arriving at the gate of the family compound, Wang Xuemei stopped, glanced at him again, and softened her tone: "I'm not saying anything bad about you, but at your age, it's time for you to think about serious matters. Nurse Qi is a good and capable person. It just so happened that she was the one who bandaged you this time..."
Xiao Ming's face flushed again, this time out of embarrassment. He quickly interrupted, "Sister-in-law, I know my limits."
Wang Xuemei smiled, said nothing more, and turned to walk home. Xiao Ming stood there, watching his sister-in-law's back disappear around the corner, his heart was like a pot of mixed feelings, not a good taste. He looked up at the sky, it was gray, like a wet rag. In the distance came the laughter of children, as clear as wind chimes, the most beautiful sound in peacetime. He touched the camera around his neck, thinking of the smoke on the battlefield, thinking of Xiao Ming's honest smile, thinking of Qian Fang's bright and sparkling eyes, and finally turned into a sigh and dissipated in the wind.
He turned and walked towards his simple workshop, his steps firmer. Some thoughts, like flowers that shouldn't bloom on a battlefield, are destined to be buried by the wind and snow. His battlefield is within the camera, within the truths that need to be recorded, not in the muddled accounts of romantic love. The poplar catkins in the yard still drifted, as if testifying to his determination, and also as if telling a young man's secret of restraint and growth in this spring.
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