near
The lingering chill of winter persisted into February, until a subtle, almost imperceptible softness began to seep into the March winds.
In the downtown office building, the heating was still on full blast, keeping out the biting spring chill outside. Xiao Jue was nestled in his large office chair, working on his divorce case.
My phone vibrated; it was a routine report from a caregiver at the rehabilitation hospital: [Mr. Xiao, Qingran's mood was stable today. She ate a small bowl of porridge and vegetable puree for lunch, took a two-hour nap, and looked at picture books for a while after waking up. The physical therapist came and did forty minutes of rehabilitation training; her cooperation was so-so, and she resisted the stretching somewhat.]
A photo was attached. In the photo, Qingran, wearing a light blue hospital gown and a pink bunny sweatshirt over it, sat on a mat in the recovery room. The physical therapist was gently supporting her ankles and performing passive stretches. She frowned slightly and pursed her lips, looking somewhat unwilling, but she didn't cry or make a fuss.
Xiao Jue stared at the photo for a long time, his fingertips gently tracing the edge of the screen, as if he could touch that faint warmth through the cold glass. He longed to leave all of this behind, drive to the hospital, hold her legs which might be a little sore from the treatment, and gently comfort her, or simply sit beside her, saying nothing, and feel that little bit of quiet companionship.
But he couldn't. The crucial moment in the case was in the next few days, and he couldn't afford to be distracted.
He glanced at the calendar; Qi Shuo was supposed to go today. He knew Qi Shuo had been going to the hospital more frequently lately, sometimes even more often than him.
The caregiver mentioned to him privately that the "tall gentleman who doesn't talk much" often comes by. Sometimes he stands outside the door for a while and looks through the glass. Sometimes, after getting permission, he goes in and sits quietly for a while, doing nothing but keeping him company.
From initially ignoring him, to occasionally glancing at him, and recently, it seems... she's become less averse to his presence.
He is a lawyer, Qingran's only legal guardian and support. He must be strong and stable enough to hold up this sky that could collapse at any moment. Personal emotions must be put aside.
Xiao Jue calmed himself down and continued working on the case at hand.
Meanwhile, at the suburban rehabilitation hospital.
The afternoon sun was just right, lazily spreading across the seventh-floor corridor.
The door to room 703 was ajar. The caregiver had just finished feeding Qingran water and helped her sit up against the cushions while tidying up the small table. "Qingran, be good. Auntie is going to wash the towel and will be right back. You can read a book by yourself for a while, okay?" the caregiver said gently, pointing to a brightly colored children's picture book on the bedside table.
Qingran didn't speak, but blinked her overly clear eyes, her gaze falling on the picture book, yet seemingly unfocused. She held the plush rabbit in her arms, her fingers unconsciously tugging at its long ears.
The caregiver smiled, picked up the basin of water, and tiptoed out, leaving a crack in the door.
The corridor was quiet. Occasionally, there was the sound of a nurse pushing a treatment cart, or the faint sound of a television in the distance.
Qi Shuo appeared at this moment. He was wearing a simple gray hooded sweatshirt and black trousers, his figure was upright but he exuded a deliberate restraint.
As usual, he quietly walked to the door of ward 703 and stopped.
He didn't push the door open immediately, nor did he even approach the crack. He simply stood a step away from the door, slightly turned to the side, and quietly peered into the room through the narrow gap.
From this angle, you can see a corner of the hospital bed by the window, and a small figure wearing a pink sweatshirt on the bed.
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft halo around her. Her head was bowed, her chestnut hair falling softly beside her cheeks, obscuring her expression. Only her slender, white fingers could be seen, gently stroking the fur of the rabbit in her arms. The movements were slow, with a childlike, aimless focus.
Qi Shuo stood there, motionless, like a silent statue. His breathing was so light it was almost inaudible.
This was a habit he had recently developed. When Xiao Jue was too busy to come, but he happened to have some free time, he would come here. He wouldn't go in, wouldn't disturb her, but just look at her from a safe distance. It was as if simply confirming her presence, confirming that she was at peace and her breathing was even, was enough.
This brief, stolen gaze became the only faint but real ray of light in his bleak life, slightly illuminating the darkness called "absence" and "incompetence" that constantly gnawed at him.
As long as she's still here, as long as she breathes so peacefully, even if she never recognizes him, even if she lives forever in this carefully constructed transparent dome that isolates her from all painful memories... that's fine too.
At least, she's still alive. As long as she's alive, there's a faint, sliver of hope.
Time ticked by. The clock at the end of the corridor ticked softly and rhythmically. Qi Shuo didn't know how long he'd been standing there; his legs were a little numb, but he didn't want to move. Until a faint sound came from inside the ward.
Qingran seemed a little tired from sitting, so she shifted slightly and adjusted her posture. The rabbit plush toy in her arms accidentally slipped and fell to the edge of the bed, about to hit the floor.
She subconsciously reached out to grab it, her body leaning slightly forward, and her gaze naturally followed the direction the doll had slid down, glancing towards the doorway.
Then, without warning, her gaze met the silent gaze from outside the door.
Through the narrow crack in the door, their eyes met in mid-air.
Qi Shuo's heart clenched, almost stopping. He hadn't expected her to look at him so suddenly, and caught off guard, he didn't even have time to look away.
He walked straight into those clear eyes, reflecting the afternoon sunlight, filled with a mixture of bewilderment and curiosity.
It wasn't fear, it wasn't rejection, it didn't even have much emotion. It was just a simple, childlike gaze. She looked at him, tilted her head, as if wondering why this strange older brother wearing a mask wouldn't come in.
A few seconds felt like an eternity.
Then, he saw Qingran's lips move very lightly and very slowly. No sound came out, but the shape of her lips…
Qi Shuo's pupils suddenly contracted. He stared intently at the shape of her lips, his blood seemingly rushing to his head and then freezing into ice in the next second.
What is she saying?
Just as he was trying to regulate his breathing and suppress those chaotic thoughts, a very faint, slightly uncertain, soft and sweet voice drifted out clearly through the crack in the door that was not closed tightly and entered his ears.
"elder brother?"
The voice was soft, like a feather brushing against the heart, carrying the ambiguity and tentativeness unique to children. But in this quiet afternoon corridor, it was as clear as thunder.
Qi Shuo trembled violently, jerking his head up to look at the door in disbelief. Had he misheard? Or was it another hallucination?
"Come in……"
The voice rang out again, slightly clearer than before, but still very soft, with obvious hesitation and unfamiliarity. It was as if these two simple syllables were also foreign to her, requiring great effort to organize.
"Brother...brother...come...in?"
This time, Qi Shuo heard it clearly. Every word was like a heavy hammer, slamming into his eardrums, making him dizzy and his soul tremble.
It was Qingran's voice. She was speaking. She was speaking to him. She was calling him… "Brother"? And she was even telling him… "Come in"?
A tremendous shock, ecstasy, panic, disbelief... a tsunami of emotions swept over him, instantly engulfing him.
He stood frozen in place, unable to move, his eyes wide open, staring intently at the crack in the door, as if trying to see through it the expression on the little figure inside.
Was she serious? Or was it just unconscious babbling? Did she mistake him for Xiao Jue? Or... was she really calling him?
Time seemed to freeze again. The corridor was eerily quiet; he could hear the rush of his blood, the frantic pounding of his heart in his chest. From inside the door, there was no more sound, as if those two soft calls from before were merely vivid hallucinations born of his intense longing.
No, it wasn't a hallucination. He heard it. He heard it clearly.
Should we go in, or not?
Going in might frighten her, might shatter this hard-won peace, and might ruin all our efforts.
Should he not go in? If she really is calling him, if he misses this opportunity... will he regret it for the rest of his life?
Two thoughts were battling fiercely in his mind, almost tearing him apart.
Cold sweat instantly soaked his back. He clenched his teeth, his mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood. In the end, the longing for that call overwhelmed all fear and reason.
Even if there's only a one in ten thousand chance, even if the next second is hell, he will seize this glimmer of hope.
He reached out, his fingertips trembling slightly, and gently pushed open the half-closed door.
A soft creak echoed clearly in the quiet hospital room.
The warm afternoon sun streamed through the glass windows, filling most of the room. Qingran remained seated on the bed, leaning against the soft pillows, clutching her rabbit doll. She seemed to hear the door open, and slowly, somewhat sluggishly, turned her head to look towards the doorway.
Her gaze met Qi Shuo's once again.
This time, there was no obstruction from the door, no blurring of distance. Qi Shuo could clearly see his somewhat stiff, somewhat flustered figure reflected in those clear, large eyes. There was no fear, no rejection, and no surprise.
There was only a calm, slightly curious gaze, as if looking at something...not very familiar, but not entirely unfamiliar...
Qi Shuo stood at the door, not daring to take another step inside. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found his throat so dry that he couldn't make a sound.
He could only stand there, like a bewildered fool who had trespassed into someone else's territory, waiting for her "verdict".
Qingran stared at him for a few seconds, her long eyelashes fluttering. Then, her gaze fell on his fingers, which hung at his sides, slightly curled up in nervousness. She stared for a long time, making Qi Shuo almost want to run away.
Just as Qi Shuo was about to succumb to the silent scrutiny, Qing Ran suddenly moved. Slowly and somewhat clumsily, she released her grip on the rabbit and then stretched out her small, pale hand toward him.
Her palm was outstretched, her fingertips slightly curled—an invitation, or rather, a gesture gesturing for him to "come over." It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a rush of blood to Qi Shuo's head.
He stared intently at the small hand reaching out to him, his mind blank.
Go in? Go past? Grab it? What should he do?
All the precautions Xiao Jue had given him were now in complete disarray.
He was like a rusty robot, his command system completely broken down. He could only rely on instinct to move into the ward very slowly, step by step, until he reached the bedside and stopped a foot away from her arm.
He dared not get too close, for fear that his presence or his very breath would disturb her.
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