Late July.
Under Zuo Jianqing's arrangement, Jiang Que was transferred to the psychiatric hospital where he worked.
After an initial period of in-depth diagnosis and several expert consultations, Zuo Jianqing finally gained a comprehensive understanding of his condition and developed a detailed treatment plan accordingly.
Although the treatment schedule in this plan is tight, with corresponding treatment tasks almost every day, it does not restrict Jiang Que's range of movement. In fact, for convenience, the treatment time arranged in the plan is concentrated in the morning. In this way, if Jiang Que does not want to be hospitalized, he can choose to recuperate at home. He only needs to come to the hospital every morning to complete the treatment schedule, and take the corresponding medicines on time and in the right dosage after returning home.
But Jiang Que did not choose this way.
Not only did he not request to be discharged from the hospital, he also took the initiative to apply to be transferred from the original open ward without restrictions to a separate closed monitoring ward, which was almost equivalent to completely giving up the right to move freely.
Zuo Jianqing didn't interfere with his choice, but on the day Jiang Que was transferred to the closed ward, looking at the restraints on either side of the special bed and the 24-hour surveillance camera on the ceiling, he still reminded him helplessly, "You know your condition isn't that serious. You don't need to be so vigilant, right?"
"I know."
Jiang Que answered frankly. He sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed out a wrinkle on the newly changed sheets. "I just feel more at ease this way."
Hearing him say this, Zuo Jianqing didn't try to persuade him any further. He just nodded, reached out and pulled the storage basket on the bedside table, and pushed it back to Jiang Que: "The others are fine, but you should keep these."
The basket contained Jiang Que's mobile phone, computer, charger, pen and other items, all of which were voluntarily handed over by Jiang Que in strict accordance with the closed ward management regulations.
Zuo Jianqing said, "You probably know why we're not allowed to use these here, but your situation is different. There's no need to hand them over. Just keep them for yourself."
There are many items that are prohibited from being brought into the closed ward, the most important of which are sharp objects and communication equipment.
The former is to prevent patients with violent or self-harming tendencies from harming themselves or others, while the latter is to prevent some patients with serious illnesses and complete loss of judgment from frequently calling the police, seeking help, or using payment software for false reasons to cause property losses, causing unnecessary trouble to the hospital and their families.
But Jiang Que's situation was not included. Firstly, he was not forced to be hospitalized, but voluntarily accepted closed treatment. Secondly, he did not have any violent tendencies, so these items were not dangerous items to him.
Jiang Que glanced at the things in the basket and didn't seem to care much: "It doesn't matter, I won't be able to use them anyway."
He said this without any reluctance. Ever since he was transferred to this hospital, he put all his communication equipment at the bottom of the box, actively cut off contact with the outside world, and created a completely closed treatment environment.
Zuo Jianqing chuckled at this: "Why not? Haven't you finished your new book yet? After completing your treatment in the morning, you can spend the afternoon and evening as you please – writing, watching a play, or going for a walk. You have to remember that you're only here to receive treatment, not to be imprisoned."
Jiang Que looked at him quietly for a moment, seemed to hesitate, and finally said: "You don't have to give me special treatment, just treat me as an ordinary patient."
Zuo Jianqing sighed helplessly, took out the items from the basket one by one and placed them on the bedside table. He said, "Where's the special treatment? This is the treatment for mild cases. If your case is really serious enough to require discipline, I will tie you up with my own hands without mercy."
As he spoke, he hooked the now empty basket in his hand, turned around and instructed, "Rest well today. We'll start formal treatment tomorrow. Don't worry too much. Your problem is a small matter here, not even a difficult case."
Jiang Que didn't know how much comfort there was in his words, but he still chuckled and said sincerely, "Thank you."
After Zuo Jianqing closed the door and left, Jiang Que ignored the pile of things on the bedside table. He just stood up from the bed, walked to the window with a protective net, and looked down at the floor below.
The window of this ward faces the large garden behind the inpatient department. In midsummer, lush vegetation covers the entire garden with greenery. Gentle paths wind up and down among the layers of greenery. Benches for people to rest are dotted under the shade of the lush trees, making the patients and medical staff walking in the garden look very relaxed and leisurely.
Although Zuo Jianqing said that he did not receive any special treatment, Jiang Que actually knew that he had put special thought into the arrangement of this ward alone.
This ward is located in the corner of the top floor of the inpatient building, far away from the area where critically ill patients are located. There is no uncontrolled noise or shouting at all. In addition, the vast and tranquil scenery can be seen from the window. It is so quiet that it seems like a convalescent home. It can unconsciously put people in a relaxed and safe state, and they may even forget that they are patients.
This was completely different from what Jiang Que had originally imagined.
He originally thought that the place he was going to stay would be a dark and depressing place, and that he would be surrounded by crazy and uncontrollable patients, and the entire treatment process would not be easy.
However, he did not expect that the current environment was not as bad as he had imagined, and staying here did not seem as difficult as he had expected.
Jiang Que stood by the window and looked out for a while. When he turned his gaze away from the downstairs, he saw a flash of light in his reflection on the glass.
That's the reflection of sunlight on the metal.
It came from his collarbone.
Jiang Que raised his hand to his collar and gently pinched the small silver bell in the reflection.
He hadn't seen Song Yecheng for a long time.
Song Yecheng promised not to come to see him, so he never showed up again after he was transferred to another hospital.
It's impossible to say I don't miss you.
After all, this was the first time in such a long time that they had been apart. During these days in the hospital, he would think of him almost involuntarily from time to time, wondering where he would be and what he would be doing.
Although he missed her, he did not regret his decision to refuse the meeting.
Because he knew that only in this way, only when he was sure that Song Yecheng was far away from him and out of an absolutely safe range, could he calm down his ever-hanging heart and stay here without any worries to treat his illness with peace of mind.
When he first woke up in that private hospital, he actually had the idea of leaving Songye City completely.
Because at that time he recalled everything that happened between him and Song Yecheng from the first time they met to the time they met again, and he felt that he had only brought trouble to Song Yecheng from the beginning to the end.
He is a burden, a drag, a patient who is not even a normal person.
He should go as far away as possible, preferably disappear completely, so that Song Yecheng can return to his original trajectory and no longer be burdened or trapped by him.
However, that night, Song Yecheng caught up with him and found him.
At the door of the police station, in that dim carriage, when he heard Song Yecheng say with red eyes, "Do you know that I am also afraid, afraid that I will never find you again", he suddenly realized how cruel he was.
What is farther away is better, and what disappears completely.
Those self-righteous "it's for your own good" and those actions of abandoning him on their own initiative turned out to be the cruelest knives stabbing Song Yecheng.
At that moment, all the self-loathing, self-deprecation, and desire to escape in his heart were completely shattered, leaving only a single thought -
He just wanted to do his best to get better, stay with this person, hug this person, and make up for him with the rest of his life.
That is his bright moon and stars.
It was the light that shone into his endless darkness.
Even if he is selfish or greedy, even if he is so thin and ragged, he wants to give everything to that beam of light, hold it in the palm of his hand, and never let it go to waste.
only……
How long it would take for his illness to be cured, or even whether it could be cured at all, was not something he could decide based on his belief.
So he told Song Yecheng: I will go to get treatment, but you can't accompany me.
He thought that if he could finally get what he wanted, that would be the best outcome, but if not... if the worst outcome had to happen, then this long separation could serve as a prelude to a slow infiltration, allowing Song Yecheng to slowly get used to the days without him, and perhaps in the end, it would not be so difficult for him to accept it.
In front of the ward window.
Jiang Que held the small silver bell in his hand, pursed his lips and took a deep breath, then closed his eyes and gently suppressed the possibility that he was most unwilling to accept in his heart.
No, it won't.
I shouldn't think of the worst.
Zuo Jianqing said that the mentality when treating an illness is very important. He should not be habitually pessimistic like before, but should learn to be more positive.
Thinking of this, he opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the glass. He tried hard to curl the corners of his lips. Against the backdrop of the green garden and sunshine, he forced out a faint smile as if to comfort himself.
at the same time.
In the doctor's office downstairs.
Zuo Jianqing stood beside the desk that originally belonged to him, with his hands in the pockets of his white coat, allowing someone to occupy the desk and chair that originally belonged to him, staring quietly at the ward surveillance images on his computer screen.
After holding it in for a long time, he finally couldn't help but remind her, "Have you seen enough?"
Song Yecheng then withdrew his gaze from the screen and looked up suspiciously, "Is the surveillance camera stuck? Why is he standing there in a daze?"
Zuo Jianqing narrowed his eyes speechlessly and swiped his arm rudely with the back of his hand: "Move aside, move aside, move aside."
Song Yecheng stood up and gave him his seat, then went around and pulled a chair over. Zuo Jianqing finally sat back in his seat and then complained, "You're really something. You come here every day like this, aren't you afraid of being photographed?"
Although Song Yecheng promised Jiang Que not to meet him, he only did not "meet" him. Since Jiang Que was transferred to this hospital, he would go to the hospital almost every day, which made Zuo Jianqing want to install a time clock for him.
Song Yecheng said indifferently: "Just keep filming. I said I was too immersed in the filming and couldn't get out of it. Why don't you allow me to come to the hospital for treatment?"
Zuo Jianqing was also convinced and said with a smile: "Alright, but what's the point of you coming? He won't see you anyway, so why are you playing the role of a husband-waiting rock here?"
This was exactly what Song Yecheng was worried about. He leaned back slightly on his chair, breathed a sigh of relief and said, "The Husband-Waiting Rock is fine. When I miss him, at least I can see him through the surveillance camera. But what if he misses me?"
If these words were spoken by someone else, Zuo Jianqing would definitely roll his eyes and laugh at the other person for being sentimental. However, when he thought about the situation between him and Jiang Que, he couldn't bring himself to utter such a sarcastic remark.
Not only was he unable to mock, he even began to feel troubled. He sighed, "Did you see that too? I've returned his phone and computer, but I'm afraid he doesn't plan to use them for a while. He's so desperate to be cured right now that he's being very hard on himself. It's obvious he's determined to block out all distractions and focus on his treatment."
Song Yecheng nodded: "I know."
It was precisely because he knew this that he could understand all of Jiang Que's decisions and did not disturb him without permission.
Zuo Jianqing thought for a moment and said soothingly, "Don't be too anxious. I'll find a chance to talk to him after his treatment stabilizes. It's not a good thing to be too closed off."
Song Yecheng nodded again.
After thinking for a moment, he said, "It's okay, I'll think of another way."
On Jiangque's side.
After the treatment began step by step, the peaceful days passed one by one in the unnoticed alternation of morning and evening.
Although Zuo Jianqing is Jiang Que's attending physician, not all treatment projects are led by him.
Jiang Que would see different doctors every morning in different types of clinics to complete specific treatment arrangements according to the treatment plan.
When he returns to his ward in the afternoon, he will do some auxiliary psychological adjustment training according to the doctor's instructions. In his spare time, he will read books borrowed from the reading room, write some manuscripts with paper and pen, or stand by the window to look at the people and scenery in the garden.
But he just watched.
During the one month since he was hospitalized, he has not been to the garden downstairs even once.
As for the mobile phone and computer that Zuo Jianqing returned to him, he has not taken them out since he put them back in his suitcase.
Since the closed ward is equipped with 24-hour surveillance, his daily activities can actually be clearly monitored by the attending physician.
So after a few weeks of observation and confirmation of his slightly autistic habits, at the end of the treatment that morning, Zuo Jianqing couldn't help but remind him again -
"You don't need to deliberately disconnect from the outside world, nor do you need to isolate yourself too much. Appropriate information exchange and taking a walk outside can help you relax."
Jiang Que understood and agreed, but after returning to his ward, he still failed to make changes immediately.
The mobile phone and computer that he had not used for a long time were like a door to the outside world. He closed this door in the beginning in order to block out all interference from the outside world so that he could concentrate on treating his illness without being affected.
However, it’s okay to be locked up for a few days.
Now, after being closed for a long time, the lack of information due to the loss of connection has turned the door into Schrödinger's box and Pandora's box. The unknowns hidden inside make him more and more uncertain. He is worried about what he will see once he opens it, and he is also worried that there is actually nothing there.
But he also knew that what Zuo Jianqing said was right.
If you want to cure your illness and become a normal person, you cannot just hide in a closed comfort zone and maintain that illusory distance from the world.
Jiang Que stood by the window and hesitated for a while. He couldn't make up his mind whether to reopen the door, but he felt that Zuo Jianqing's other suggestion should be tried first.
——Go out for a walk.
This seems to be easier to do.
Thinking of this, he turned and walked to the suitcase, took out a mask, and then finally at the end of August when the cicadas' chirping gradually faded, he stepped out of the hospital building for the first time and walked into the back garden downstairs that he had been watching for a long time.
The garden in late summer is still green, with unknown flowers dotted on the lawn. The sun shines on the treetops, covering the gently winding paths that lead to the exits of the surrounding inpatient buildings.
Jiang Que stepped onto the path and walked slowly among the shadows of the trees. Occasionally, he passed by patients resting on the benches under the trees, and also brushed past some people in hospital gowns accompanied by nurses.
Most of those who can stroll alone in the garden are patients with mild symptoms. Their words and deeds are basically the same as those of ordinary people. Those with slightly more serious conditions occasionally go out for a walk, but they are accompanied and supervised by nurses and rarely make any exaggerated or weird behaviors.
After walking aimlessly for a while, Jiang Que felt that he had received enough sunlight and wanted to find a shady place to rest for a while.
He looked around and hesitated for a moment between a bench under a secluded tree in the distance and a pavilion where a few people were gathered on the other side. Finally, adhering to the idea of "don't isolate yourself too much", he walked towards the pavilion that seemed to be more lively.
Two middle-aged patients were playing chess at the stone table in the pavilion, with three or four onlookers gathered nearby. Two young nurses were sitting at the fence nearby, seemingly accompanying their patients. They were chatting in low voices while waiting for the game to end.
Jiang Que walked slowly into the pavilion and stopped quietly beside several onlookers. Only the person nearby noticed his approach, turned his head slightly to take a look, then quickly retracted his gaze and looked back at the chessboard.
The two men were playing chess, which Jiang Que was not proficient in, but he had come just to "join in the fun", so the basic rules he had learned before were enough for him to watch the game.
The two people playing chess didn't seem to be talkative. They were basically just thinking and didn't say much. The people around them didn't talk much to each other, either because they didn't know each other or because they remembered to watch the game in silence.
As a result, the only sounds in the pavilion were the occasional "clack" of chess pieces falling onto the board and the quiet whispers of the young nurse chatting nearby.
Their voices were not loud, and Jiang Que hadn't deliberately listened. However, after chatting for a while, the two of them started talking about something. One of the nurses took out her phone and fiddled with it. Then, a dozen seconds later, an extremely familiar male voice came from her phone -
"Well, I wasn't home this morning."
After only six words, Jiang Que's ears moved suddenly, and he looked towards the phone as if he had misheard.
The voice on the phone paused for a moment, then came out again: "I don't have any plans these two days, so I'm pretty free."
This time, Jiang Que was finally 100% sure that it was Song Yecheng's voice.
Before he could listen any further, the nurse next to him asked curiously, "Why is he live streaming every day lately? I saw it on the trending search yesterday."
"Really?" the nurse holding the phone agreed. "I find it strange too. He never used to livestream, but this month, I don't know what's wrong, he's been livestreaming on Weibo for a while every afternoon, like he's clocking in for work."
Starts this month.
Jiang Que caught these words keenly, and then realized that it was after he was transferred to this hospital.
So during this period of time, Song Yecheng has been broadcasting live every afternoon?
"Does he have a work to promote?" the nurse continued to speculate. "So he's doing some warm-up or something?"
"But he doesn't promote anything," another person laughed. "Every day he broadcasts just as normal. Sometimes he doesn't even say a word, just doing his own thing..."
Jiang Que had no interest in listening to what they said next.
His mind was filled with Song Yecheng's simple two sentences and the knowledge that "he is broadcasting live", which were like magical little claws scratching and hooking him, attracting him to find out what was going on.
After hesitating for a long time, I couldn't resist the impulse after all.
He slowly took two steps back, turned calmly and left the pavilion, walked back to the inpatient department along the path, and went upstairs to his ward.
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