Chapter 41
"Autism? Doesn't loneliness happen to everyone? How can it be considered a disease?"
On the first weekend of June, Tong Yufei came to the hospital to visit her grandmother as usual. During the visit, Doctor Zhu invited her into the clinic. This conversation had nothing to do with Mrs. Mo's condition. The old lady had recovered well and would be discharged in two days. What Doctor Zhu wanted to talk about was the condition of her brother Ye Yimo.
As luck would have it, Dr. Zhu was the doctor Tong Zhaoyang had recommended to her. Due to his busy schedule and the unique nature of Ye Yimo's condition, he hadn't been able to schedule an appointment. After the first day of her exams, she rushed to the hospital to meet Dr. Zhu for a last-minute appointment. They discussed her brother's condition in detail and obtained some sedatives. This was also the reason she hadn't told Mo Daoyan that he wouldn't be picking her up that day, leading to their chance encounter at the hospital.
A few days ago, she brought her brother to the hospital for a face-to-face consultation. Doctor Zhu suddenly realized why she had to go to such great lengths to make an appointment through Tong Zhaoyang instead of her lover Mo Daoyan. When he saw that Ye Yi Mo held her hand tightly throughout the whole process, needed her to comfort him at all times, and even occasionally needed her to accompany him to the toilet, he completely understood her concerns. If such a situation was seen by her in-laws, they would inevitably have some thoughts. As for Ye Yi Mo's condition, Doctor Zhu did not reveal even a word to the Mo family or even his old friend Xu Ying.
After a joint consultation with colleagues, Dr. Zhu confirmed that Ye Yi Mo suffered from autism. In the past few years, this disease was almost blank in domestic research and was still classified as schizophrenia or intellectual disability. Although it has entered the exploratory stage, relevant knowledge is still limited. It was not until last year that the diagnosis of "childhood autism" was made, and all existing therapies are only for pediatric patients. Faced with adult cases like Ye Yi Mo, doctors are helpless and have no good prescription.
Because of this, Dr. Zhu gave Ye Yimo a high evaluation of his current performance. He was able to communicate simply, was good at carving, had basic self-care skills, and was non-aggressive. He had surpassed all the autistic patients he had come into contact with. He even specifically asked Tong Yufei how she cultivated these habits in her brother. Tong Yufei softly recounted the painstaking efforts her adoptive parents had put into her brother's life, how they had painstakingly taught him to read and write, recite ancient poems, and sing nursery rhymes. She was influenced by their behavior and would follow suit, even having her brother carefully write his name in every notebook he kept.
The midday sun shone through the blinds, casting a golden glow into the room. The persistence accumulated over the years came out of her mouth and flowed gently in the quiet air of the clinic. She didn't know how long she talked or how she left the hospital. She only knew that she walked for a long time, and the sound of her footsteps kept echoing hollowly in her ears. Doctor Zhu's words were flooding her mind.
"You should stick to your current companionship methods, communicate more with your brother, and give him hand-to-mouth training..."
"His brain tumor is not the root cause of his illness. It is completely curable. I will perform the surgery."
"Even if the brain tumor is removed, his intelligence will not be restored. These are two different diseases."
It turned out that the hope she had carefully cherished all these years, hoping that her brother would recover and that the two of them could live a normal life, was nothing but bubbles floating in the sunlight, which could disappear at any time. The brain tumor was not the culprit, it would not take her brother's life, but it would never give her a complete brother.
How ridiculous! Should she smile because her brother is alive, or cry because he will be trapped in the disease forever?
The midsummer sun was pale, and the heat waves rising from the asphalt road made people dizzy. She raised her hands to cover her face, but only felt her fingers were wet. Her steps suddenly stopped, and the blurred spots of light in her vision gradually gathered into fierce car shadows. The sound of horns pierced her eardrums, but her body seemed to be nailed to the middle of the road, and her legs could no longer lift them.
At the critical moment, a force pulled her away, and Tong Zhaoyang slapped her shoulder heavily: "Doctor Zhu told me everything, Yufei, are you listening to me?"
She spoke woodenly and incoherently.
"They didn't say that before. They just said my brother was lonely and that he would be fine once the brain tumor was completely removed. Now they say it's incurable. I want to take him to a few more hospitals. Experts can't always be trusted. They actually said loneliness is a disease. If my mom knew, she would definitely scold them."
"The night my mother died, she seemed to have a premonition of what was going to happen, so she sent my brother and me to stay with relatives. In the end, she was the only one who was burned to death... She had repeatedly told me to take good care of my brother. Do you think I did? He had enough to eat and clothes to wear, and the girls on the street called him handsome brother. How could he be good? But the doctor said he couldn't recover and would have to live in a glass case forever..."
"You said people would get bored if locked in a closet for half an hour. How would they survive if they lived in a closet for their entire lives? How can there be a disease called autism? There are people in the world who are not lonely, so why is my brother the only one with a disease?"
"I don't want my brother to live alone in the hood."
She suddenly laughed, her eyes dry and painful.
"Brother Zhaoyang, I don't know what to do."
Tong Zhaoyang's nose was choked with tears: "Yufei, people can shed tears."
She twitched the corners of her mouth: "I can't cry."
Tong Zhaoyang suddenly pressed her into his arms, his rough palm pressing down on the back of her head: "The hardest days are over, let's find a solution together, okay? Yufei, you're not alone, you don't need to face this alone..."
A few dozen meters away, a car made a semicircle and turned back. The window slowly rolled down. Chen Jueyao tilted her head, a strand of curly hair drifting to her rosy lips. Her orchid finger hooked the edge of her sunglasses, and her gaze swept over the two people hugging in front of her: "Mo Daoyan's doom has come."
Chen Ruchao, who was in the passenger seat, leaned over and rolled up the window. "Mind your own business, and don't try to stir up trouble like others."
"It's a waste not to watch the excitement. Are you really not complaining at all? Even if it's not her fault, people are all made of flesh and blood."
"You still have the heart to watch others have fun? Your parents are waiting for you to report your achievements at home."
Chen Jueyao stepped on the accelerator hard, and the car rushed out as fast as her chaotic thoughts. She didn't know who was meddling in her affairs and sent the letter of accusation directly to her parents. She didn't send it to the school or the dance troupe, but chose the recipient she feared the most. The letter revealed her affair with Cao You in every detail, and even exaggerated many unfounded details. It was extremely vicious.
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After Tong Yufei stepped into the house, she went straight to the utility room, took out a handy claw hammer from the toolbox, returned to the room and smashed the lock that was locked to the Walkman. The moment the hammer hit the copper lock, the sound of metal collision burst out in the silent night, smashing her remaining self-esteem.
There was a date circled in red on the calendar. It was the day when the written test results would be announced. It was the 24th of this month. After checking the answers herself, she was confident that she would be in the top three. However, this was only the starting point of a long journey. The interview would include an English written test and an oral assessment. The political review and the external file check were just formalities due to her employment status at the newspaper. But before the final curtain came down, any negligence would make the opportunity slip through her fingers. She had experienced this before, so she could not be careless and had to be fully prepared.
After locking the door, she threw the hammer onto the table. It made a dull thud as it landed on the table. Mo Daoyan's words resurfaced in her ears: "To endure hardship when you have the means is hypocritical."
Yes, what was a Walkman worth? Was she truly noble to starve to death while clinging to her ridiculous self-esteem? And where was her dignity? Hadn't she torn it away from her at the very beginning of her marriage? If she wanted to be a journalist, to write impactful reports, to have a house, to get her brother out of the gloomy tube-shaped building, to live freely in the sunshine, she had to accept every offer.
It is a great blessing to have someone give you alms.
She grabbed her notebook, bit off the pen cap, and added another line after "Exam Preparation Plan." The pen tip scratched the page fiercely, and the ink seeped through the paper: "English Listening, Speaking, Reading, Writing..."
In an English interview, the self-introduction is the highlight. She carefully polished a Chinese manuscript and translated it into English sentence by sentence. Although she had studied English for a few years in school and her reading and writing skills were pretty good, her spoken English was still a little lacking. For this reason, she specially bought pronunciation tapes and matching headphones. After work, she no longer squeezed on the bus, but walked home listening to the tapes all the way. At home, in addition to meeting basic living needs and doing some necessary needlework, she used all her time to recite the words and manuscript over and over again until every syllable was familiar to her.
On the 15th of this month, Mrs. Mo was discharged from the hospital and returned home. She specially prepared two Tencel short-sleeved shirts that she had sewn by herself, and joined everyone in welcoming her grandmother back to the old house, one for her grandmother and one for her mother-in-law. She also quietly found an opportunity to be alone with Meng Ruqing and told her about the interview. Meng Ruqing promised her that as long as she met all the requirements, she would not let anyone snatch her opportunity away, and asked her to have no distractions and prepare for the re-examination with peace of mind.
She went to the kitchen to help Aunt Lin. A table full of steaming hot meals was soon placed on the eight-immortal table. During the meal, Old Mrs. Mo, with the understanding of surviving a disaster, chatted and laughed with her filial sons and grandchildren. She served the children dishes and added soup at the right time. There was a smile on her eyes and eyebrows. Naturally, she did not forget to hold her great-grandson, and asked her about the progress of her pregnancy preparations in public.
This time, without waiting for her to answer, Meng Ruqing gently pressed Mo Daoyan's shoulder and said to Mrs. Mo, "Daoyan complained to me a few days ago that he worked too much overtime and his heart was not feeling well. He also needed to recuperate for a while."
The old lady immediately forgot about her great-grandson, who she was worried about, and kept asking about Mo Daoyan's physical condition. After confirming that he was fine, she started to criticize Chen Huaili for being a black-hearted businessman who treated people like beasts of burden.
It was almost ten o'clock when she returned home after the banquet. She hurriedly took a shower and changed her clothes. After blowing her hair half dry, she bent over the desk and recited English.
Mo Daoyan leaned against the sofa in the living room, flipping through the Scientific American magazine he subscribed to through the post office. When she recited it a second time, he put down the magazine and walked to the door. His voice came through the door: "There are several grammatical errors in your manuscript, and some words have unclear consonants. Can't you correct them? It's unpleasant to listen to."
Tong Yufei was completely bewildered. He'd pointed out the mistake, but his remarks were extremely general. She'd secretly laughed at his unreasonableness. If she'd been able to "correct" it, how could he have misheard it? She opened the door and looked at him standing in the doorframe. The light from the recessed lamp had a yellow edge on his black suit, making him look like an old, out-of-focus photograph, and he was the elegant scholar in the photo.
A multilingual, overseas-educated PhD student, a ready-made English teacher, would surely give her a perfect score if she could get his guidance. But he stood at the doorway, showing no interest in answering further questions. So she tried to ask, "Can you explain it in more detail, or would you be willing to teach me?"
"I can't guarantee the time."
"Come in and teach whenever it's convenient for you."
Tong Yufei brought in an armchair, brewed some coffee, and sliced an apple into thin slices, arranging them in the shape of lotus petals on a plate before inviting him to the desk. Mo Daoyan circled and outlined the manuscript, marking errors line by line and explaining them: this sentence had an incorrect subject-verb inversion, that sentence needed word order adjusted, and there were two tense errors...
"Why do you want to be a journalist?" Mo Daoyan looked at her with lowered eyelashes as she revised her sentence. "I'm asking on behalf of the examiner."
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