Critically Ill (Part 1)
After that incident, the atmosphere between Shen Zhihe and Gu Hanzhi changed significantly.
In the afternoon, in a coffee shop, Shen Zhihe gently stirred the latte in his cup with a small spoon. The milk foam formed small vortices under his fingertips. He looked up at Gu Hanzhi across from him, and the smile in his eyes spread to his eyebrows. "Next month, I will return the pot of fiddle-leaf fig you mentioned last time. It will look beautiful in the afternoon sun."
Gu Hanzhi, poking the ice ball on the wall of the glass with a straw, curled her lips at the words. "Next month, you might torture me to death—last year, you watered my succulents until the roots rotted, and you still haven't compensated me." Her voice mingled with the chirping of cicadas outside the window, as light as wind chimes. Shen Zhihe was about to open his mouth to retort when the phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated. The word "stepmother" flashed on the screen, causing his smile to fade.
His fingertips paused, and he gestured to Gu Hanzhi, "Answer the call!" As he stood up, he picked up his coat draped over the back of the chair. He reached the corridor at the entrance of the cafe before he swiped the answer button, his tone deliberately suppressing the hint of impatience: "Aunt Xu."
There was silence on the other end of the line for two seconds, followed by suppressed sobs with a heavy tone of tears. Xu Huanxi's voice was trembling, like paper shredded by a strong wind: "Zhihe... Auntie didn't want to disturb you, but... but your father..."
Shen Zhihe's heart sank suddenly, and his knuckles gripping the phone tightened unconsciously.
"He was in a car accident on his way to the company... and now... he's still on the operating table..."
The last few words pierced Shen Zhihe's ears like ice-cold needles. He stood in the porch, the afternoon sun blazing, yet he felt his blood run cold. A buzzing sound filled his head, as if something had exploded. The aroma of coffee, the chirping of cicadas, and Gu Hanzhi's laughter, all that had been clear just moments before, now blurred into a blur of white noise. Only Xu Huanxi's intermittent sobs remained, along with his own suddenly heavier breathing.
He opened his mouth, but found his throat was blocked, unable to utter a single word. How could this happen? Before he left that morning, his father had told him to come home for dinner that night, saying he wanted to try the braised pork recipe Xu Huanxi had just learned. How could he have become an "operating table" in just a few hours?
The breeze from the corridor blew in hot air, but Shen Zhihe felt his fingertips were cold. He looked down at the tips of his shoes, and the sunlit ground suddenly dazzled his eyes.
Shen Zhihe's fingers tightened around the phone, their knuckles turning white. The atmosphere in the cafe was still flowing, and the light in Gu Hanzhi's eyes when she smiled was like broken diamonds, but suddenly, it was all separated by a layer of frosted glass, becoming blurry and distant.
"Which hospital?" He heard his voice trembling, yet remarkably clear—like the crisp sound of ice cracking. "I'll be there right away."
Xu Huanxi's sobs exploded in the receiver, mixed with the chaotic sound of footsteps in the background: "First People's Hospital! The operating room... is right at the door of the emergency room on the second floor! Zhihe, come here quickly..."
He didn't listen any further. As he turned around, the sound of metal clashing startled Gu Hanzhi, who suddenly stood up. "Hanzhi," his throat tightened, his fingertips not even having the strength to hang up the phone, "my dad's in trouble. He's at the First People's Hospital."
The sun slanted in through the French windows, falling right on his pale face, clearly illuminating the dark circles under his eyes. The smile that had just been there when he said he would take Gu Hanzhi to meet his father after graduation had now frozen into panic in his eyes.
Gu Hanzhi's back tensed instantly, and the fingers stirring the coffee spoon froze in mid-air. She looked at Shen Zhihe's knuckles, clenched until they turned white, and his eyes, which had suddenly lost all warmth, and her heart felt like it was being squeezed.
"I'll go with you." She barely waited for her brain to react before grabbing her coat from the back of the chair. When her fingertips touched Shen Zhihe's arm, she realized he was trembling. This man, who usually said "it's okay," seemed to have lost most of his strength to stand up straight.
Shen Zhihe didn't respond, but stumbled toward the door. Gu Hanzhi hurried after him, reaching out to hold his arm. In his coat pocket was the mint candy he'd bought that morning, meant for her, but now it pricked her, making her feel uneasy.
As he pushed open the door, the wind chimes in the cafe jingled. The midday sun was too strong, and Shen Zhihe subconsciously squinted, his eyelashes looking as if covered in crushed ice. Gu Hanzhi led him into the shade of a tree. She heard his Adam's apple roll, and his voice was hoarse as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper. "Before I left this morning, he called me and told me he was going to stew pork ribs tonight. How could this be..."
The taxi pulled up to the curb. As Gu Hanzhi opened the door, she caught a glimpse of Shen Zhihe's phone screen, still lit. It was an unread message from Xu Huanxi. His fingertips trembled as he reached for the screen, repeatedly hitting the wrong button. Gu Hanzhi took the phone and gave him the address. Turning back, she saw him staring out the window at the passing trees, his jawline strained like a string about to snap.
"It'll be alright," she whispered, reaching out to place her hand over the back of his hand that was clutching the seam of his pants. His hand was cold, as if it had just been pulled out of icy water. Shen Zhihe then turned his head to look at her, and a glimmer of light finally appeared in his panic, like a drowning man grabbing a piece of driftwood.
The sycamore leaves outside the car window were wilting in the sun. Gu Hanzhi looked at his pale profile and suddenly remembered the glint in his eyes when he said yesterday, "My dad must like you." The sunlight fell on his face in the same way then, but the temperature was warm.
When the taxi braked suddenly in front of the emergency room of the First Municipal Hospital, Shen Zhihe almost fell out of the car. Gu Hanzhi paid the fare and ran after him. As soon as she turned the corner of the corridor, she saw Xu Huanxi standing at the door of the emergency room with red eyes and a few tears on the cuffs of her white coat.
"Zhihe!" Xu Huanxi's voice trembled. She reached out to pull him, but he avoided her - his eyes were fixed on the red light on the door of the emergency room. The scarlet light was like a red-hot iron, burning his fingertips until they were numb.
"How long have you been in there?" Shen Zhihe's voice seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth. Gu Hanzhi held his arm and could feel that all the muscles in his body were tense.
"It's been forty minutes, and the doctor just came out and said they're still trying to stop the bleeding..." Xu Huanxi was interrupted by the sound of the emergency room door opening before she could finish her words. A doctor in a green coat walked out, removing his mask. Shen Zhihe practically rushed over to him, "I'm a family member! How's my dad?"
The doctor frowned and wiped the sweat from his forehead: "We are still observing. The intracranial hemorrhage point has not been stabilized." As soon as he finished speaking, the red light came on again and the door was closed again, blocking out all the sounds from inside.
Gu Hanzhi said nothing, simply resting his head gently on her shoulder. The hallway smelled strongly of disinfectant, mingling with the fragrance of locust flowers wafting in from the window, making it particularly obtrusive. She saw Shen Zhihe's fingers digging into the cracks between the tiles, leaving red marks on his fingertips. He used to say his father's hands were rough, the result of years of working with wrenches, but every time he stewed spareribs, he always remembered to remove the ginger, which he disliked.
Xu Huanxi handed over a bottle of water. Gu Hanzhi took it, unscrewed it, and held it to Shen Zhihe's mouth. He took two sips, and his Adam's apple moved. Xu Huanxi suddenly grabbed Shen Zhihe's wrist: "If..."
"There are no ifs." Xu Huanxi interrupted her, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes with her fingertips, "He's still waiting to see me bring my girlfriend home."
A little light streamed through the window at the end of the corridor, casting a shadow on the red light of the emergency room. Shen Zhihe stared at that glimmer, suddenly remembering the same warm light as when his father, carrying him on his shoulders, walked him around under the old locust tree as a child. He closed his eyes and gripped Gu Hanzhi's hand even tighter—it was the only warmth he could grasp at this moment.
The clock in the corridor ticked, each tick like a knock on his tense nerves. Shen Zhihe leaned against the wall, his eyes never leaving the emergency room door. The red light blurred into a blur in his eyes, as if it was sucking him in.
Gu Hanzhi quietly retreated to the corridor and handed Xu Huanxi a pack of tissues. Xu Huanxi's fingers trembled as she clutched the tissue, her voice low, "He went to the company this morning to check on the situation, and suddenly a truck rushed towards him. When I answered the phone, he was still able to speak, and he told me not to tell Zhihe because he was afraid he would worry."
Gu Hanzhi's heart sank. She remembered Shen Zhihe's words, "Stew the spareribs tonight," and her throat suddenly tightened—it turned out to be some kind of reminder, a half-concealed worry.
"He'll definitely make it." Gu Hanzhi patted Xu Huanxi on the back and turned to see Shen Zhihe staring at the sign for the emergency room, his fingers unconsciously stroking his phone case. He had bought it for his father last Father's Day. It had an old photo printed on it: a young father Shen holding his toddler son, a smile showing his gums.
After an unknown amount of time, the elevator at the end of the corridor dinged. Shen Zhihe looked up and saw a nurse pushing a treatment cart towards him. He immediately ran after her. "How's it going in there?" His voice was barely audible, and the nurse, startled by him, quickly said, "They're still trying to save the patient. The doctor asked the family to keep quiet."
He froze in place, watching the ambulance van disappear behind the emergency room door before slowly retreating. Gu Hanzhi handed him a piece of chocolate—a constant stash she kept in her bag, originally for fear of hypoglycemia. The sound of tinfoil being torn apart was especially clear in the quiet hallway. He took a bite, but didn't taste anything, only a bitter sensation in his throat.
"My dad always says that he doesn't have any special abilities in this life, and he just wants to see me stay healthy." Shen Zhihe's voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of disturbing something. "He asked me yesterday if I liked sweet or salty food, and said he wanted to learn a few of your favorite dishes."
Gu Hanzhi's eyes warmed. She remembered what Shen Zhihe had said: her father was a quiet man, but he had replaced the old sofa in the house with a new one before he came; and when he casually mentioned that he liked strawberries, he had someone bring a basket from the suburbs the next day.
At this moment, the red light in the emergency room suddenly went out.
Shen Zhihe practically bounced up, not even noticing his knee hit the wall. The moment the door opened, a doctor in a green coat walked out. As he took off his mask, a look of relief finally appeared on his face. "He's stable for now. The bleeding has stopped. Next, we'll see how he recovers after the surgery."
Shen Zhihe stood still, as if he hadn't heard clearly. It wasn't until Gu Hanzhi pushed his arm that he suddenly rushed over and grabbed the doctor's wrist: "Can...can you go in and take a look?"
"Not yet. He needs to be sent to the ICU for observation." The doctor patted the back of his hand. "Young man, your father is very strong-willed. He was still faintly conscious during the rescue just now, and he kept muttering, 'Don't let my son worry.'"
Shen Zhihe finally couldn't hold back his tears, and they fell on the back of his hand, burning like the sunlight in the coffee shop just now. He turned around and saw Gu Hanzhi standing not far away, her eyes also shining. Seeing him looking over, she nodded at him, as if to say, "See, I told you it would be okay."
The breeze from the corridor blew in through the window, carrying a hint of disinfectant, though it didn't seem as pungent anymore. Shen Zhihe wiped his face, walked over to Gu Hanzhi, and gently held her hand. This time, his fingertips no longer trembled, but instead held a slight warmth.
"When he gets better," he sniffed, his voice still a little hoarse, "let's bring him some strawberries together."
Gu Hanzhi smiled and nodded, seeing that the panic in his eyes had finally dissipated a little, like ice melting in early spring, revealing a warm undertone underneath.
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