Chapter 156: "Both this world and I are fine"
The smell of disinfectant was spreading.
The dripping sound of the IV bottle was heard, and the figures passing through the corridor looked like wandering souls, blurry in the eyes.
Inside the huge ward, there were voices that were deliberately kept low.
When the door was opened, Su Mingan looked up and saw a stack of papers with unclear handwriting in his blurry vision.
Although he couldn't see the words clearly and everything was blurry, he just knew that this was a notice of critical illness.
In my ear, the community staff who accompanied me whispered:
"…How did it turn out like this? A child was left behind. What should I do…"
Su Mingan raised his hand and wanted to take the paper, but the community worker next to him blocked his hand and signed with the pen tip.
Su Ming'an put down his hand, and the moment his vision touched his palm, the moment he saw that small hand, he suddenly realized that it was a child's hand.
He realized that this was probably another dream - due to his daily practice, he could often wake up from dreams and rarely had difficulty recognizing dreams. As he stared silently at the white wall of the hospital in front of him, he hesitated a little from wanting to wake up.
"Can I see my father?" He turned and said to the community staff, using the word "father" instead of "dad" as most children say.
"Son, your father is in good condition now, he just needs to stay in the hospital for a while." The community worker, whose face was unclear, patted his shoulder gently with his big hand, and spoke in a gentle tone, as if coaxing a child: "He needs to rest now. When he wakes up and has stayed in the hospital enough, you can go see him again, okay?"
"You're lying to me." Su Ming'an said, "You know very well that it's very difficult for him to wake up again."
There was shock on the faces of the community members.
But in Su Mingan's eyes, they were circles of twisted black holes, accompanied by abnormal expressions, which gradually shattered the peaceful scene before his eyes, circle by circle.
"I know it very well," he said. "This is the last time."
The scene before my eyes was shattering and collapsing.
He looked at the gradually distorted picture in front of him, as if he was watching a silent black-and-white silent film, or as if the picture on a TV was gradually covered with snowflakes and then gradually faded into nothingness.
He walked forward, stabilized the picture that was about to collapse, and took a step. He passed through the gradually transparent community staff, passed through the snow-white walls, passed by the silent crowd like ghosts, and dived into the crowd like a swimming fish. He passed by the unclear crowd in white coats, as if racing against time. When he passed through the door of the intensive care unit, he felt relieved, and then saw a white bed.
Here, everything was white. He saw the white quilt spread on the man like snow. Every white bandage was dazzling. The electrocardiogram line was erratic in his eyes. Everything seemed unclear as if there were dark corners.
He saw the man's face, a familiar face, the man's eyelids were closed and his chest rose and fell faintly.
The man seemed to be wrapped in white.
Su Mingan held his hand and stood outside the bed, as if he was standing in the human world. He looked at the angel wrapped in pure white and watched his life fade away bit by bit.
Beside his ears, the water in the dripping bottle made a sound. It was a very slight sound, but in such a quiet environment, it seemed to be magnified countless times. Su Mingan closed his eyes and felt the temperature in his palms, which gradually cooled down.
Finally, he seemed to sense something and opened his eyes.
What met his eyes was a pair of eyes that were extremely similar to his.
"Ming An." The man looked at him, the wrinkles that had already appeared on his eyes trembling: "...You're here."
"Um."
"I lay in the ICU for a long time, and thought about it for a long time..." The man said slowly, "When I rushed to the street corner that day, I didn't think too much, and I even felt honored. But after becoming like this, half paralyzed, and losing consciousness several times, I thought of you."
"Ming'an, Daddy doesn't regret saving people." He held Su Ming'an's hand and slowly rolled his hand into his palm: "But, I'm sorry that Daddy couldn't grow up with you."
"It's okay." Su Ming'an did not withdraw his hand, but moved closer to the man. His tone was gentler than ever before: "I have grown up. A month... no, more than two months ago, I just stepped into the gate of university."
"I'm very happy." The man's voice was weak but steady. He seemed to want to raise his other hand and touch Su Mingan's face, but in the end he had no strength.
Su Mingan stretched out his hands and held the man's hands with both of them, his attitude like a pilgrim.
He put the gauze-wrapped hand against his cheek and let him caress it.
"I'm very happy..." The man's hand moved slightly, and his fingers touched Su Mingan's face and then withdrew, without touching his entire palm, as if he was afraid of disturbing something.
Su Ming'an didn't move, he felt that the dream was collapsing.
Lucid dreams are constructed by people themselves. Once there are great emotional ups and downs, the dream is often difficult to maintain.
He just wanted to stay here for a while before forcing himself to stabilize his dream.
"...Ming'an, you have grown into a very good person." The man said with a smile.
"I didn't become like my mother," Su Ming'an said. "I'm very lucky. Although I have lived an extremely ordinary life all the way, I am more suited to this world than my mother."
"Your mother was just a little too anxious. In fact, I have advised her many times, but she would not listen. She just loves her art too much. I don't ask you to forgive her, Ming'an, but I hope her actions have not left too much of a shadow on you." The man slowly put down his hand, his tone as light as a feather:
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