The footsteps in the corridor gradually faded away. Tang's mother hurriedly rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, her fingertips rubbing across her hot eyelids, forcibly suppressing the tears that were welling up.
She lowered her head, the strands of hair on her forehead hanging down to cover half of her face, and walked quickly to the bathroom at the end of the corridor. The soles of her shoes made a light "tapping" sound on the non-slip floor tiles, and she seemed particularly hasty in the empty corridor.
The bathroom was filled with a faint smell of disinfectant mixed with the lemon fragrance of hand soap. The tiled walls were spotlessly clean, reflecting the blurry figure of a woman.
The washbasin is made of off-white artificial stone, with a pump-type hand soap on the countertop and snow-white tissue paper rolls in the tissue box next to it.
Tang's mother walked to the faucet, reached out and turned on the switch, and warm water gushed out, bringing with it the stable warmth unique to the constant temperature system.
She stared at the knob for a moment, then used her fingertips to adjust the water temperature to the far left. The cold water instantly replaced the warm water, bringing with it the unique coolness of late autumn, and splashed into the porcelain washbasin.
He scooped up a few handfuls of cold water and splashed it on his face again and again.
The cold water droplets instantly soaked the loose hair on her forehead, flowed down her cheeks, slid across her chin, and dripped onto her collar.
Although Caizhou is not very cold at this time of year, the cold water poured on her face still made her shiver.
This physical chill was far less than the chill in the heart - it was a kind of despair that came from knowing that something was impossible but still doing it. It was like ice water flooding over the chest, making it hard to breathe.
Tang's mother raised her head and let the cold water flow down her neck.
The woman in the mirror was pale, with red eyes and fine lines at the corners of her eyes that were particularly noticeable due to her excitement. Her hair, which she usually took good care of, was now messy and stuck to her cheeks, making her look as disheveled as a bird caught in a rainstorm.
In fact, she had always known that the doctor had mentioned it implicitly long ago that the minor nerve damage in her legs was too severe and that she would be lucky to regain some sensation. To want to stand up again was basically a luxury, no, it was impossible.
The money invested over the years is like stones thrown into a bottomless pit, without even a trace of response.
But Tang's mother and father still gritted their teeth and persisted, as if they were in a state of sober depravity - deliberately forgetting those cold diagnoses, ignoring the dwindling numbers in their bank cards, and only grasping the subtle tremors of their muscles during each training session, taking them as a straw of hope.
Yes, as long as there is a little hope.
But now, even this kind of decadence can no longer be maintained.
If I want to continue treatment, I have to sell the house.
That old house carries all the memories of two generations: the hard-earned money that my parents-in-law exchanged for their health in the early years, the small walls covered with stickers, the figure of her husband staying up late to fix the water pipes, and the smell of her busy life in the kitchen.
Selling it is like pulling it out by the roots.
Moreover, even if the house is sold, it basically cannot bring about a miracle, and my daughter is still confined to a wheelchair.
So is it worth the money?
Can such a thing be measured by value?
Life is so hard.
A hemp rope breaks at its thinnest part, and misfortune strikes upon the unfortunate.
Tang's mother leaned on the cold sink, her fingertips tightly gripping the edge of the sink, her knuckles turning white.
Another thought suddenly popped up in my mind - it would be better to have conservative treatment and save money.
My husband and I work hard to make money, and leave Xiaoxiao a house and some retirement money in a few years, and then find an honest and kind son-in-law who can take care of her whole life.
But as soon as this thought came to my mind, my heart suddenly tightened - what if I met the wrong person?
What if the man is only after money and bullies the weak Xiaoxiao after marriage?
My daughter is so gentle and kind, she will always speak up when she is wronged.
The uncertainty that comes is a tangled mess. The more you think about it, the tighter it becomes, and it makes your heart ache.
And now is not the time to discuss with my husband. He is still sleeping at this time because he has been working all night and is very tired.
Let's go there tonight and discuss it in detail.
The cold water was still running. Tang's mother took a deep breath and reached out to turn off the faucet.
The bathroom suddenly became quiet, with only the sound of slightly heavy breathing remaining.
She looked at her haggard self in the mirror, slowly raised her hand, and gently patted her cheek with her fingertips soaked in cold water, trying to wake herself up a little.
Then he bit his lower lip tightly until he tasted a faint taste of blood, then he forced himself to raise the corners of his mouth and tried to squeeze out a relatively acceptable expression.
I absolutely cannot let Xiaoxiao see me in this miserable state.
My daughter worked so hard today and said "come on" so expectantly. We can't let those negative emotions affect her.
Persevere, persevere, and keep persevering.
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