The person lying in the bed is now in the morgue.
The reserve player who succeeded Wen Dai is indeed undeniably sharp.
"You're not young anymore. If I'm not mistaken, you're thinking about ending your life. That's a very irrational thing to do. Your life doesn't exist for anyone else, it only exists for yourself. You want to leave now because your child left you; if your husband left you without any children, would you choose to end your life?"
The sharp question he posed finally elicited a flicker of emotion from Qian Yan's eyes. She stared at Chen Sizhe in astonishment, as if she hadn't expected anyone to be able to find such a loophole; or perhaps, she was deeply shaken, shocked amidst her confusion.
Chen Sizhe seemed to have no intention of getting Qian Yan's answer at all. He continued, "Most people wouldn't. They would probably choose to continue living, perhaps never to remarry, or perhaps to start a new family after meeting another suitable person. Your child has left. Do you think he would want to see his mother chasing after him right after he left?"
The words can be increasingly provocative: "He only wants you to live a good life, to stop living for him. If you choose death, it means you've treated your life as a tool for someone else, degrading and neglecting yourself. Are you being fair to your life? Are you being fair to yourself? How many years have you not lived for yourself?"
Qian Yan was not the only one shocked; the patient in the next bed and his family stared at Chen Sizhe in astonishment, as did Wen Dai.
This isn't comforting people; it's like a trial.
Furthermore, what he said next completely shattered the aura that had just been created—
"Besides, if you leave too, who will burn paper money for Qian Tong? Do you know that the living can send clothes, toys, houses, and books to the deceased? You're not expecting Wen Dai to clean up your mess, are you? How can you be so shameless?"
"She's been supporting you for so many years and has helped you a lot, hasn't she? She's even counting on you to be a witness in her case, and now you just want to close your eyes and leave like this? You're really selfish."
What a contradictory man, caught between rationality and idealism.
And it actually worked!
Shame showed on Qian Yan's face. She leaned forward from the headboard, bent her back and lowered her head for a moment, then slowly raised her chin, revealing an undisguised apology in her eyes.
She first thanked Chen Sizhe, then looked at Wen Dai and said, "I'm so sorry, sister. My head was all muddled just now... I can't remember anything. I was just thinking that I've been living too hard all these years, and that Xiao Tong is gone, so I have no more attachments in this world. I just wanted to go with him. I'm so sorry, I forgot that I was supposed to be your witness."
The patient in the next bed sat up with the help of his family. He was obviously much older than Qian Yan, and when he opened his mouth, his voice sounded like a piece of metal scraping: "Sister, sister."
After Qian Yan turned around, he raised his voice and said "Hey!" while nodding, "It's you."
"What is the purpose of our lives? When we first came into this world, when we were studying, what were we thinking about? We should really be thinking about ourselves. Some precocious ones say at a young age that they want to study hard, get into a good university to bring honor to their parents, and find a good job so that their parents can live a good life; others are said to be immature—are they really immature?"
The old man, with a bald head, grinned and shook his head. "I don't think so. The kids who are said to be ignorant think that studying is too tiring and working is too tiring. They ask why they have to get good grades. You see, they are much smarter than the precocious ones. They know that living is about living for themselves and making themselves comfortable."
"Everyone has their own different opinions, but I think these people are right in this regard. People live primarily for themselves. You see, your parents will leave one day. Besides yourself, who can stay by your side for a long time?"
"Even your lover can't be with you 24/7. Your parents are gone, so who will you be for? Does that mean you can stop trying? Does that mean you can just ignore everything and run off to find your parents?"
The patient's family fell silent; they knew perfectly well what was going on.
This old man wasn't just joining in the fun; he clearly had two purposes: one was to tell Qian Yan, and the other was to tell them.
It's not that difficult for the living to accept the departure of the dead, but it's not that simple either.
Qian Yan breathed heavily through her nose, and nodded her chin at the patient in the next bed, "Thank you, I understand."
"Sister Qian Yan, we've paid your hospital bills. How are you feeling now? If not, rest a little longer. If you feel better, we can take you home." Wen Dai spoke carefully, avoiding the word "home," knowing it would hurt her feelings.
But for Qian Yan, just the thought of "going back" was difficult enough.
How can a person live a normal life when faced with an empty tin shack?
Qian Yan blinked slowly a few times, then looked up at Wen Dai with a pleading look in her eyes. "Could...could I go back and pack some things, and then move in with you for a while? Don't worry, I won't bother you for long. I'll leave after the lawsuit is over."
When she lowered her head, her chin almost sank into her collarbone, and a bitter laugh came from her throat. "I don't dare to face that room again, at least not now. Once we win the lawsuit and bring those bad guys to justice, I'll go live somewhere else."
She still didn't look up, so her face couldn't be seen. All I could hear was her saying, "This place is too painful. I don't want to stay here anymore."
There was a time when Wen Dai also wanted to leave Lizhou without a care in the world, to go anywhere, just not to stay here—not to stay in Changhai District, not to renovate the burned-down villa, not to go back, not to look at it too much—on one hand, she wanted to leave their traces, to leave evidence that might still exist; on the other hand, she wanted to escape.
What happened last year is now twelve years later. Can any evidence still remain? Wen Dai didn't know. What she wanted most was to escape.
But she would still repeatedly stand in front of the villa, unable to resist looking; she wanted to escape, yet couldn't help wanting to see. Her parents were still in the house. She would think about the meaning of her existence in this world, the purpose of living; she had long since tied her meaning to overturning the verdict.
She wasn't much calmer or more composed than Qian Yan. She understood her.
Knowing that Qian Yan needed to be helped, Wen Dai embraced her and said with a smile, "Of course, but I don't have any extra rooms or a second bed. You can buy a bed on your way there."
"It's okay, I'll just sleep on the sofa. It's not good to share a room with you." Qian Yan used her thin arms, hidden in her sleeves, to prop herself up and get out of bed. Her pale skin showed signs of illness—exhaustion and weakness.
Sofa? Wen Dai's brows furrowed involuntarily. Although her home had a sofa bed, it was really impolite to let someone stay at her home temporarily and sleep on the sofa. She got up from the chair, raised her lips and wanted to persuade Qian Yan again, but a hand suddenly reached out and covered her mouth.
The culprit who reached out and covered Wen Dai's mouth with his elbow was Chen Sizhe. He stood with Wen Dai in the posture of a kidnapper in a TV drama, and dragged Wen Dai back a few steps to make room for Qian Yan to leave. Then he lowered his voice and said, "She is not the kind of person who likes to owe favors."
Wen Dai, who had just begun to feel rebellious, lowered her half-raised hand, and withdrew the hand that had been covering the lower half of her face.
Over the years of getting to know each other, she has come to realize that Qian Yan doesn't like owing favors, and that Qian Yan has always been thinking about repaying them.
When she suggested staying at her house, Qian Yan must have gone through a lot of internal struggle. If she were to force Qian Yan to sleep in a bed, Qian Yan might add the cost of the bedding to her mental notebook of all the things she had to repay.
Chen Sizhe, who had become the driver, dutifully took them to the shantytown again.
The scene outside the alley was unchanged, and even inside the alley was still the same as before. There were still rolling glass bottles on the ground, and a few deformed bottle caps that had fallen off. The damp and dirty ground was still the same. Nothing had changed.
We walked all the way to the shack area, where the ground was much lower and the sky seemed much farther away.
The pale light fell down. It was no longer the time when women would be carrying clothes around. Under the tree, some older people were still gathered together to while away the time, but I wondered if they were the same people as before.
Qian Yan gripped the lock fastened to the metal door, staring blankly at it in her hand, the icy touch seemingly unable to rouse her.
A gust of wind blew by, carrying a chill as it brushed against the back of Qian Yan's neck. She finally made a move, taking out her key from her pocket, inserting it into the lock, unlocking the door, and pulling it open.
The room was no different from usual, except that one person was missing.
The stove was spotless, and the pot lay quietly on it. At first glance, no grime was visible to the naked eye; only the tarpaulin walls, discolored by smoke, betrayed the poor maintenance. The long wooden bench and table remained exactly as they had been. They were all still, simply sitting there.
Separated by a standing curtain, one bed's blankets were still disheveled, and the sheets were wrinkled. At the beginning of the day, someone had been lying on that bed; now, that person was in the hospital morgue.
In a daze, I seemed to see that thin child again.
He would run up to her, proudly holding up his award certificate; he would rummage through his bag for chocolates or other snacks, first offering them to her, explaining their origin before handing them to her.
Yes, he's such a sensible child; she'd rather he weren't so sensible.
Qian Yan's legs didn't feel like they were filled with lead; they looked like they were about to be planted in the ground.
Wen Dai and Chen Sizhe followed behind her, unintentionally pulling Qian Yan out of her whirlpool of memories: "Sister Qian Yan, what are you packing? Let us help you carry it."
Wen Dai controlled her gaze, trying not to take in too much of the room.
There are only one person who can make you cry or feel sad; Qian Yan is enough. She doesn't deserve it.
Once her thoughts were brought back to normal, Qian Yan moved her feet, but for some reason, there were no tears in her eyes.
Have you cried it all out? Are you completely dry from crying?
“It’s stuffy inside, so you can wait outside. It’s okay, I can manage by myself.” Qian Yan’s voice was hoarse and nasal. She didn’t turn around, but Wen Dai could tell she was upset.
Some emotions don't show on your face; there may be no tears on your face, but they are inside your body.
Obeying Qian Yan's order to leave, Wen Dai and Chen Sizhe left together.
The air outside was indeed much fresher than inside, and the cool breeze brought the breath of spring. It should have been a time of renewal for all things, yet someone had left.
With her arms crossed over her chest, Wen Dai looked up at the sky, her toes unconsciously tapping the ground, kicking up sand.
Even though the sun was hidden, ultraviolet rays were still present, stinging the face and eyes.
Not only were her face exposed to ultraviolet rays, but also to Chen Sizhe's gaze. The man had one hand in his pocket, his face slightly turned towards her, his lowered gaze fixed on her cheeks, his eyes giving a thin impression, unable to reveal any deep emotions.
He asked, "What are you thinking about?"
She replied, "I'm thinking about leaving."
Tilting her neck back, her neck didn't ache, but her head started spinning. Wen Dai turned around and raised her hand to massage her temples.
She whispered, "Actually, everyone knows that others will leave one day. It's no use staying by their side all the time. Even if you spend your whole life together, the end result will still be separation. I think you're right. If I had told Sister Qian Yan that Qian Tong would die before she turned eighteen from the very beginning, they might have had an even harder time."
Even knowing the other person will leave, I hope it can be later, much later. I even consider leaving after I have left first.
As Wen Dai gradually sank into a slump, Chen Sizhe frowned and interrupted her thoughts: "The most important thing in life is not the ending. Everyone's ending is death. Focus on the process, focus on the people who walk with you on the same path, and focus on the world you see."
Qian Yan didn't spend too long packing her luggage. The two large bags were bulging, so much so that the surface of the bags was uneven and undulating.
Chen Sizhe escorted them downstairs, and then, as a gentleman, helped Qian Yan carry her bag upstairs before leaving.
The sofa in the house was quite nice, and the sofa bed was soft and bouncy. Qian Yan put the pillows and blankets on it, her movements were a little awkward, and Wen Dai noticed her trembling hands.
"Sister Qian Yan, it's alright, just treat this place as your own home." Wen Dai curled her lips upward, the smile in her peach blossom eyes was forced, and her clenched fists were digging into her palms with her fingernails.
“It’s perfect. I usually live alone at home, it feels so empty. Now that you’re here, it feels more alive.”
As Wen Dai uttered these words, her mind raced—what else could it be? Words like popularity and vibrancy wouldn't do; they would remind Qian Yan of Qian Tong's departure. Even loneliness was unacceptable. Qian Tong left this world alone; would he be lonely? And how lonely would he be?
Qian Yan didn't even need Wen Dai's guidance on where to put her clothes and other miscellaneous items. She simply matched the clothes in her bag with the hangers in the bag, carried them to the balcony, and left the rest in her bag.
After finishing putting things away, she remained silent and spontaneously helped Wen Dai tidy up the house.
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