Chapter 2 - A Bowl of Wonton

Zhishu He had trouble sleeping. He got up early in the morning and was practiced in swallowing a handful of colorful pills with the cold boiled water left overnight. In the bathroom, he was standing in front of the mirror, in which the man was pale and lifeless, with dull eyes.

Zhishu He threw cold water onto his face, then pulled out the heavy down jacket at the bottom of the suitcase and wrapped himself in it.

When he was about to go out, his mobile phone rang. He was disappointed again. It was not the man he was waiting for, but the doctor who advised him to receive treatment as soon as possible. Zhishu He answered with his customary gentle smile, “Thank you. I’ll think about it.”

It was early, not even eight o’clock yet. The snow might last all night and nobody knew when it stopped. Zhishu He walked in the snow for half an hour to the wonton stall that he had been absent for a long time.

The vendor was going to wind up the day’s business, but the moment when he saw Zhishu He, he greeted Zhishu with a smile, “Long time no see!”

Zhishu He sat at the table, smiling, “I’ve been lazy and inactive since I moved.”

The vendor’s wife came to add hot water in his cup, and cast a few eyes on Zhishu, feeling a little worried, “You must be too busy! Look at you– how weak you are!”

Zhishu He kept smiling without a word. In fact, he was not busy. His health collapsed just for that there was too much weighing on his mind.

A bowl of wonton. Zhishu He lowered his head, carefully pressing the floating laver into the hot soup with a spoon. The steaming soup soaked his eyes. For more than a decade, the price here had never changed, but by only a bite, he could find that the wonton was smaller with fewer fillings.

So was the love between him and Wenxu Jiang.

Zhishu He had no appetite, but he managed to finish up all the wontons. He did not dare to look up, because he was afraid that the others would find his eyes wet. Zhishu He suddenly remembered the moment when he came to Beijing to make a living with Wenxu Jiang. They were very poor at that time. One day, they two bought a bowl of wontons, but both were reluctant to eat. Wenxu Jiang refused to move the spoon until Zhishu He divided the bowl of wontons into two portions at last. He still remembered clearly, that day, Wenxu Jiang fell all his tears into the bowl and he said, stressing every word, that for this whole life, he would never let Zhishu He down.

But the promise was something that while the speaker was casual, the hearer was attentive.

Zhishu He thought he could endure the torture brought by the illness, but he still vomited heavily in the public toilet.

How could he not be afraid? He was afraid of loneliness, of disappointment, and of walking in the long corridor of the hospital alone. Zhishu He sat opposite the doctor, looking down at the potted orchids of the doctor whose surname was Ai.

The doctor advised him to accept chemotherapy early, the earlier the better.

Zhishu He kept silent, while the doctor did not push. Zhishu He managed to control his emotions after a long silence, and he looked up with a slight smile, “I’m afraid of hardship… I cannot do it by myself.”

“Give me some more medicine and I’ll think about it,” Zhishu He shook his head and smiled weakly. “Doctor Ai, I’ve had fewer nosebleeds lately, but my fever is getting worse. The other day when I was sleeping at home, I dreamt that I became a big stove in a trance, with my heart and lungs fried in the pan. I almost thought that I wouldn’t get through.”

Hearing his words, the doctor suddenly stopped prescribing the medicine. He saw plenty of sad stories of people with terminal illness, so he knew well about their complaint on the unfair life and reluctance to leave the world, but he had never seen such a man like Zhishu He, who was wrapped by loneliness all over.

“You are my patient, and I’ll always be there for your treatment. It’s no big deal. There’s always hope in life, isn’t there?” In fact, Doctor Ai was no older than 30. Most people focused their eyes on his experience and ability only because he had great achievements in medical field. Now he was comforting Zhishu He; the tone was so relaxing that at the moment he was just like a student who was consoling his schoolmate, “It’s all right. You tough it out tonight and we’ll go on hunting birds tomorrow.”

Zhishu He smiled more sincerely, but he still said, “I’ll think about it. Please give me some medicine.”

When Zhishu He was about to leave, Ziyu Ai insisted on giving Zhishu a pot of orchid in the office, which was valuable but fragile, “Don’t go off into wild flights of fancy when you are alone. Just find something to do, and it’s not bad to grow a flower.”

Zhishu He was in a daze and then declined, “Thank you, doctor, but I’m not very good at growing flowers… Besides, orchid is such a delicate flower.”

“It’s not difficult to grow flowers. I hope you decide soon so that I can arrange treatment for you. If you are well, you will take good care of my flower,” the doctor gave a brief and slightly childish smile, and then waved his hand.

Zhishu He did not think so actually. Only those who love flowers could take good care of them, which was just like what he lacked was not casual words of comfort from the others.

But half a loaf was better than none.

So, he accepted the flower, asked for a plastic bag to wrap it and then put it in his coat.

Hospitals were short of wonder drugs prescribed by Ziyu Ai. Zhishu He took it easy, for there was still some medicine in his home. He went back without any medicine. He had been out for so long that his body was breaking down.