"I'll go get you some water!"
The gray-haired grandmother was very happy to see Feng Bingwen in good spirits.
"I need hot water!"
Although somewhat embarrassed, Feng Bingwen remained steadfast in his request.
The Buddha observed a ladle of water and saw forty-eight thousand insects within it. He knew how dirty raw water was, and he didn't want a bunch of worms living in his stomach. He certainly didn't have any pagoda-shaped sugar candies to eat.
"Understood, my young master!"
The old woman knew her grandson was particular, and at first she didn't understand, but after a few years she got used to it. If he liked to drink boiled water, she would let him drink it. The old man's monthly salary was good, and he could afford to spend a little money on firewood.
"grandmother!"
Feng Bingwen knew that his habit of drinking boiled water all the time was too extravagant, but he had no choice because he felt that drinking raw water was too risky.
Drinking untreated water for a long time greatly increases the chance of being parasitized by strange insects, and may even lead to various strange diseases. Once infected, most of the time you can only pray that your body is strong enough to get through it.
Are you still sleepy?
The old woman brought over a bowl of steaming hot water, which had been boiled on the stove long ago.
"I'm still a little sleepy!"
"Drink some water and then go back to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up tomorrow!"
"Um."
Looking at his grandmother's kind and gentle face, Feng Bingwen felt that the fever was not a big problem, but if he remembered correctly, a cold and fever could be life-threatening.
"call--"
Feng Bingwen let out a difficult breath, and then, with his grandmother's help, slowly drank some warm water. Feeling a bit better, he lay down and fell asleep as drowsiness washed over him.
"Wen'er—"
"I'm home!"
"Wen'er—"
"I'm home!"
...In a daze, Feng Bingwen opened his eyes. The sky outside the window was dark; it was already dusk. Turning his head slightly, he could see his grandfather writing something at the desk in the room. In the afterglow of the setting sun, the old man's face inexplicably carried a sense of dignity.
Listening closely, he could faintly hear his grandmother calling him by his nickname outside the window. What puzzled him was that every time his grandmother called out, a voice would respond.
The two voices, one singing and the other harmonizing, gradually faded into the twilight, and the village suddenly became exceptionally peaceful, as if no one was moving about.
"Awake? Are you hungry? Your grandma heated up two white face masks for you, they're keeping them warm in the pot. If you're hungry, I'll get them for you."
Feng Lingjun noticed Feng Bingwen opening his eyes and asked with a smile, clearly in a good mood.
"I'll just eat half."
Although he was very weak, Feng Bingwen had no appetite. However, he knew that after falling ill, he should try his best to eat something to fill his stomach.
"OK."
The old man responded, then got up and went to the stove in the kitchen. He took out half a still-warm steamed bun and handed it to the child on the bed, who was still a little sleepy but not in good condition.
Feng Bingwen was sitting on the bed, munching on half a steamed bun. Just as he was about to finish it, he saw his grandmother holding a large white porcelain bowl, with a warm smile on her face, leading a rather familiar-looking aunt into the room.
"Wen'er is awake? It's alright now. After a good night's sleep, everything will be fine by tomorrow morning."
To Feng Bingwen's astonishment, he watched as his grandmother turned the bowl she was holding upside down on the headboard and then covered it with a pillow—a scene that felt strangely familiar, as if it had appeared in his dreams before.
"What's this?"
Feng Bingwen glanced at the white porcelain bowl that was half-exposed under his pillow and felt relieved. He remembered that if he did this and then took a nap, everything would be fine.
He lay in bed, half-asleep, listening to the adults chatter for a while. The aunt who had come back with his grandmother said goodbye and left. As the night deepened, he drifted off to sleep again, his head resting on the slightly uncomfortable pillow.
Cluck cluck—
At dawn, accompanied by the crowing of a rooster outside the window, Feng Bingwen suddenly opened his eyes. The warm and gentle sunlight had already shone into the room from outside, illuminating the uneven mud floor, which looked quite shabby.
But in reality, his family was already a well-off family that most people in the surrounding area would envy. Ordinary families couldn't afford to provide a child with boiled water every day.
"I'm all better!"
Feng Bingwen got out of bed with a happy smile and stretched his body. He was full of energy at the moment. The dizziness and discomfort of yesterday were gone. He felt refreshed and incredibly comfortable, even more so than before he fell ill.
"That's amazing!"
He had a fever, but he didn't take any medicine. He just lay in bed, drank some boiled water, ate some steamed buns, and then his grandma went outside to call for help. When she came back, she brought him a bowl to sleep on, and when he woke up the next morning, he was perfectly fine. His recovery was so miraculous it was almost unbelievable.
"Brother Wenzi! Brother Wenzi!"
Just as Feng Bingwen was racking his brains trying to figure it out, a noisy commotion came from outside, and several energetic monkeys darted into the house.
"Why didn't you guys come looking for me yesterday?"
Looking at his fellow villagers, Feng Bingwen, who was unusually energetic at the moment, thought of something.
“My mother wouldn’t let me come to see you. She said you were frightened and probably couldn’t get up yesterday because you were so weak.”
A skinny, monkey-like child answered, grinning, his jet-black eyes darting around, looking exceptionally clever.
"You all knew I'd be better today?"
Feng Bingwen felt somewhat surprised.
"You were just scared, weren't you? Your grandma shouted in the village last night, so you'll be fine today."
The few kids who came looking for Feng Bingwen thought it was normal. They weren't well-behaved kids like Brother Wenzi; they had long since darted off to the wasteland behind the village.
"Weren't you scared yesterday?"
"No."
“We had so much fun yesterday, but the adults wouldn’t let us come and visit you.”
"Am I the only one with a fever?"
Feng Bingwen felt it was unfair; why was it that everyone else had gone to play in the wasteland behind the village, but he was the only one who collapsed?
"yes!"
"Why am I the only one who's sick?"
Feng Bingwen felt a little regretful; why did he have to be the only one to encounter such bad luck?
"have no idea!"
A group of children rolling in the mud naturally wouldn't understand such things. All they knew was that if they were sick, they should lie in bed and wait for the adults to treat them.
"I'll go ask someone!"
If everyone else had bad luck, that would be one thing, but he was the only one with a fever, and Feng Bingwen couldn't stand it.
"Second Master!"
Unable to comprehend, Feng Bingwen led a group of followers out of his house and immediately spotted an old man carrying a hoe walking towards the fields outside the village.
Ordinary children react to adults like mice to cats, but Feng Bingwen very generously called out to the old man.
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