Xiao Yan Shi

Author: Lao Zhangbin
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-10-01
Features: This is a story about hardship, and also a story about love. Its strength lies in the fact that, though it's about hardship, you don't feel it's unbearable, even to the point where you'd want to experience it yourself; and though it's about love amid hardship, or even love under the threat of death, you don't find it frightening but rather want to taste it, because the love is real and truly beautiful.
Excerpt:
I opened my eyes and looked around, like a three-month-old baby. She turned around. From where she had been standing, near the window, she held a book in her hand. I said, "Oh, it's really you! Comrade An, do you still recognize me?"
"Recognize you? You're not that noisy little boy who always got his sister beaten when he cried?"
"Hmm, you have a good memory. It's been three years already, and you still remember me. That shows—"
"I say, Comrade Liu Xing, let's be serious for a moment, okay? How are you feeling? Does your stomach still hurt? Do you need to use the restroom?"
"Ah, look at how crude she talks. Why not say 'take a number' or 'relieve yourself'? Instead, she has to say 'defecate'! Such vulgar words coming from such a cute mouth—really heartbreaking. She walked over and arbitrarily pulled back my blanket, sticking her hand under my buttocks and fumbling around. 'Good, the diaper isn't wet,' she said, stifling a laugh as she covered me back up. I was completely naked! And I was still wearing a diaper like a child! Who took off my pants, and when? Not even letting me wear underwear? Is this some kind of deliberate humiliation? Her, Nurse An—she didn't just look me up and down, did she? Mom, I have no face to live in this world anymore. I want to cry. I want to just smash my head against the wall.
"You know where you came from?" She sat on the empty bed opposite me, maintaining a distance of about fifty centimeters, and spoke kindly, "You have acute intestinal inflammation, with a fever of forty-one point five degrees! If you'd arrived any later, you could have had a bowel perforation. That would have been the end of you, no time to even scream. It's all thanks to your friend—Book Dian, right? He got you here in time, so that terrible tragedy didn't happen."
"Really? That terrible?" I doubted it but believed her. Of course, she was telling the truth; she wouldn't lie. It seemed she wouldn't. But then again, maybe she would. Sometimes she did, you know, just like other people. Now, what she said about me was clearly true. But there was a dangerous sign—she probably loved Book Dian. She said, "It's all thanks to your friend, Book Dian, right?" Just that line. Why would she say "Book Dian, right?" Was she trying to contact him? Book Dian was a sports star, always proudly displaying two pectoral muscles. It was said that girls liked strong-looking guys, and Book Dian certainly fit the bill. So does this mean that despite getting sick, nearly dying, and not getting any opportunity for myself, I ended up bringing good luck to Book Dian, giving him the kind of romantic fortune he never expected?
She stood up. She came closer to me. She came closer for the IV bottle. The IV was right beside me, with a tube leading to my hand—she was giving me a transfusion! That was just what I'd realized. It seemed I really had passed out. She picked up the book again, smiled, and said, "Sorry, I read the book you brought without asking. You probably wouldn't have read it anyway. Book Dian said you're a poet. He said he is too, that you're both poets. I don't understand poetry, so I just took a look. Hmm, this Lermontov writes really well, quite nicely. Could you show us some of the poems you write? Of course, not now—I mean, if you get the chance later."
Thankfully, she didn't ask about the folded page. She didn't. She must have seen it. The fact that she didn't ask shows she avoided the topic: "Climb onto me." That was understandable. A girl would naturally feel uncomfortable seeing that title. This little girl—maybe I was falling for her. In fact, I'd already fallen for her since three years ago, during the Wangtun exercise. When she bandaged my legs. A girl like her, once you see her, you never forget her for your whole life. But over the three years, I never got sick, so I never had a chance to get close to her. I could only think about her, hoping one day I'd get a serious illness and get admitted to her ward, so she could be my special nurse, giving me a chance to get close to her. Today, my wish came true.
"I can recite a poem for you now if you'd like to hear it?" She just opened her pretty little mouth to say "Okay"—I even heard the "okay" coming out—when someone interrupted. The man bellowed as he walked in, first addressing An. "Anton, you're not off work yet?" The tone suggested he and An were lifelong friends, like they saw each other every day. Especially annoying was the fact that he called her Anton, not Antonine—that was unusual. He was carrying a backpack, bulging with something to eat for me. An smiled back at him, as if she knew him well, saying, "It's not visiting hours, who let you in? It's definitely Little Red." He, my friend Book Dian.