stjorthotic Chapter 12 The Back View
Chapter 12 The Back View
Chen Zheng recognized the voice; it was Zhao Xiaojun from Teacher Zhao's family.
Zhao Xiaojun is Zhao Deming's son. He is only nine years old this year and has always lived with his mother in the city.
It was summer vacation, and his mother sent him to the village to stay with Teacher Zhao for a few days.
This child grew up in the city; he's fair-skinned and clean-cut, unlike those mud-covered monkeys in the village.
She speaks softly and politely, always addressing people as "uncle" or "auntie."
It was already getting dark, so why did this child come all by himself?
Chen Zheng stood up and walked to the courtyard gate.
Zhao Xiaojun stood there, panting, his face flushed, and his forehead covered in sweat.
He was wearing a white shirt, which was now covered in mud, and he had a scraped knee that was bleeding.
"Xiaojun? What's wrong? Tell me slowly."
Zhao Xiaojun took a few breaths, tears welling in his eyes, his lips trembling:
"Brother Zheng, my dad... my dad has fainted! He's by the lake! I can't wake him up! Brother Zheng, please go check on him!"
Chen Zheng's expression changed.
Zhao Deming has always been in poor health.
He developed health problems during his early years when he was sent to the countryside; he had stomach and liver issues and had to take medication regularly.
He lives alone in the village, with no one to take care of him.
In his previous life, Zhao Deming died of liver cancer.
It was too late when they found out; just like his mother, he passed away after a few months.
On the day he left, many villagers went to see him off, and they all cried.
Zhao Xiaojun's mother rushed back from the city, knelt in front of the coffin, and cried her heart out.
If I had known this would happen, I shouldn't have left him alone in the village.
Chen Zheng remembered that Chen Feng had mentioned that in the days before Zhao Deming left, he managed to go to school for his last class, even though he was already physically weak.
The lesson was about "The Back View" by Zhu Ziqing.
He stood on the podium, thin and frail, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible.
But he still finished teaching the entire lesson.
In his last sentence, he said:
"Students, you must study hard, leave this village, and go see the outside world."
After saying that, he smiled, turned around, and left.
That was the last time the students saw him.
At that time, Chen Feng was sitting in the middle of the classroom, watching him walk out of the classroom.
His back was thin, he was hunched over, and he walked very slowly.
Later, Chen Feng told A Zheng that he would never forget that scene for the rest of his life.
"Let's go! Lead the way!" Chen Zheng grabbed a bamboo pole from behind the door and said to Chen Rong.
"Rongzi, go and call Jianguo. Tell him to take me on the boat to the lakeside! Hurry!"
Chen Rong responded and ran off, losing one of his shoes in the process, before returning to pick it up.
Chen Zheng followed Zhao Xiaojun and ran towards the lake.
Zhao Xiaojun ran incredibly fast, his legs spinning like windmills, shouting back as he ran:
"Brother Zheng, hurry up! My dad's over at Repulse Bay!"
He said he went fishing, but he hadn't come back by dark, so I went to look for him and found him collapsed by the lake!
"Brother Zheng, my dad, is he... is he dead?"
Zhao Xiaojun's voice changed, and tears streamed down his face.
"No way! Don't think like that! Run!"
The two ran to Repulse Bay and saw Zhao Deming lying under a willow tree in the distance.
There was a fishing rod propped up next to it, with the fishing line hanging in the water and the float not moving.
Zhao Deming lay on his side, his face ashen, his lips purple, his glasses askew, and one of the lenses broken.
His chest rose and fell very slowly, only moving once every few minutes.
The breathing sounded heavy, like there was phlegm in the throat.
"Dad! Dad!" Zhao Xiaojun rushed over and shook his shoulders, making his head shake.
Zhao Deming did not respond.
Chen Zheng squatted down and reached out to check his breathing. He was still breathing, but very weakly.
He touched his forehead again; it felt like a branding iron.
"He has a fever." Chen Zheng frowned.
He turned Zhao Deming over so he was lying flat, took off his broken glasses, and put them aside.
He unbuttoned his collar to make it easier to breathe.
At this moment, Zhang Jianguo arrived in his famous boat.
As soon as we reached the shore, I ran over barefoot without even putting on my shoes.
"What's wrong? What happened to Teacher Zhao?"
"He has a fever and has fainted. We need to get him to the clinic right away."
As Chen Zheng spoke, he helped Zhao Deming up.
Zhao Deming was as thin as a piece of firewood, with little weight.
Her arms were as thin as a child's, and the bones in her wrists were painful to the touch.
"Jianguo, lend a hand and help carry him onto the boat. It's faster by water; rowing to town will take half the time compared to walking."
Zhang Jianguo responded, and the two of them, one on each side, lifted Zhao Deming up.
Zhao Deming's head drooped, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth and onto Chen Zheng's shoulder, wetting the area.
Zhao Xiaojun followed behind, clutching the fishing rod in his hand, tears streaming down his face.
"Xiaojun, stop crying, get on the boat," Chen Zheng said.
Four people boarded the boat.
Zhang Jianguo rowed, while Chen Zheng sat at the stern, supporting Zhao Deming and letting him lean against him.
Zhao Xiaojun squatted at the bow of the boat, holding his fishing rod, his shoulders twitching.
The boat moved swiftly, its oars flying, cutting through the blue waves.
The wind was strong on the lake, blowing Zhao Deming's hair up and revealing a head of white hair.
He's only in his early forties, but most of his hair is already white.
Chen Zheng looked at him, feeling a mix of emotions.
In his past life, he didn't even get to see Zhao Deming one last time before he passed away.
He was working in the city at the time. When he received the news and rushed back, the person had already been buried.
The grave is on a hillside behind the village, a small mound of earth without even a tombstone.
Zhao Xiaojun's mother stood in front of the grave, unable to utter a single word; she simply stood there.
I stood there for the entire afternoon, and didn't leave until it got dark.
When the boat arrived in town, Chen Zheng carried Zhao Deming and ran towards the health center.
Zhao Deming was as light as a child; he felt weightless in my arms, and his ribs pressed against my arm.
Zhang Jianguo led the way, pushing aside the people in the road: "Make way! Make way! A patient! There's a patient!"
Chen Zheng carried Zhao Deming inside.
At the front, Zhang Jianguo kicked open the emergency room door.
The doctor on duty, surnamed Sun, was in his thirties, wearing glasses, and was reading a thick medical book.
He looked up and saw the person in Chen Zheng's arms, and immediately stood up.
"Put it on the bed, what's going on?"
"He had a fever and fainted; he was found by the lake."
Dr. Sun listened to the patient's heart and lungs, checked his eyelids, took his temperature, and frowned.
"It might be pneumonia. Your temperature is 38.7 degrees Celsius. You need to be hospitalized. You need to pay a deposit of ten dollars first."
Chen Zheng was stunned.
He touched his pockets; they were empty.
I was in such a hurry when I left that I only grabbed a bamboo pole and my wallet, and didn't bring anything else.
Zhang Jianguo stood shirtless to the side.
He was only wearing a pair of soaking wet shorts, and he had no idea where his shoes were.
Needless to say, Chen Rong was just a teenager.
The three people looked at each other in bewilderment.
"Doctor, can you treat me first? I'll bring the money later," Chen Zheng said.
Dr. Sun adjusted his glasses, glanced at him, and asked, "Who are you to him?"
"I am his student. Teacher Zhao works at Lutang Village Primary School. He lives alone, and no one comes to his house."
I left in a hurry and didn't bring any money.
My father is Chen Changhe, the third son in his family. He's a fisherman. You can ask around in Lutang Village; he's not the kind of person who defaults on debts.
Dr. Sun hesitated for a moment: "Rules are rules..."
"Doctor, please!"
At this moment, Zhao Xiaojun rushed over and hugged Dr. Sun's leg.
"Please save my dad, I beg you, I'll go back and get the money, I have money, I have..."
As he spoke, tears began to fall again.
The little hand reached into the pocket and pulled out a handful of crumpled bills.
There are still a few coins.
Splash!
It was scattered all over the ground.
The largest bills were two two-mao notes, and the rest were one-cent, two-cent, and five-cent notes.
Chen Zheng squatted down and picked up the money from the ground one bill at a time.
One cent, two cents, five cents, one cent...
I counted it; it was one dollar and sixty-three cents.
Zhao Xiaojun clutched the handful of small bills, his hands trembling violently.
He looked at Chen Zheng, his eyes red:
"Brother Zheng, is that enough? If not, I have more. I'll go back and get more; I still have some in my piggy bank..."
Chen Zheng felt a pang of sadness.
The nine-year-old child, clutching a dollar and sixty-three cents, thought he could save his father's life.
He stuffed the money back into Zhao Xiaojun's pocket and patted his head: "That's enough, Xiaojun has enough money."
"Zheng will pay the rest. He brought money, but he forgot it on the boat. He'll go get it in a bit."
Zhao Xiaojun looked at him in disbelief: "Really?"
"Really. When has Brother Zheng ever lied to you?"
Zhao Xiaojun then loosened his grip on the money, but still clung tightly to Zhao Deming, refusing to leave his side for even a moment.
Dr. Sun sighed, took a hospitalization form from the drawer, filled it out quickly, and handed it over:
"Get admitted to the hospital first; we'll talk about the deposit tomorrow. Which of you is a family member?"
Zhao Xiaojun quickly raised his hand: "Yes! I'm his son!"
Dr. Sun looked down at the tiny child who barely reached his waist, and his gaze behind his glasses softened.
"Okay, then sign here."
Zhao Xiaojun took the pen and carefully wrote his name on the table.
The three characters were crooked and twisted, with the last character, "军" (jun), having a very long vertical stroke that extended beyond the grid.
Dr. Sun glanced at it, said nothing, put the form away, and turned to arrange the bed.
Zhao Deming was wheeled into the observation room and put on an IV drip.
Glucose saline solution, 500 ml glass bottle, rubber stopper.
The needle was inserted into a vein on the back of the hand, secured with adhesive tape, and the medicine dripped down drop by drop.
Chen Zheng moved a chair and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Zhao Xiaojun climbed up and lay down next to his father.
Her small body was curled up in a ball, her eyes fixed on the IV drip, as if afraid of missing a single drop.
"Brother Zheng, will my dad be alright?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
"No. The doctor said it's pneumonia, and a few days of injections will do the trick."
"real?"
"Really. You get some sleep, I'll keep an eye on things."
Zhao Xiaojun shook his head, refusing to close his eyes.
But the child couldn't hold on any longer; after a while, his eyelids started to droop, little by little.
He suddenly lifted himself up again, repeating this several times, until finally he couldn't hold on any longer.
He tilted his head to the side and fell asleep leaning on his dad's arm.
Her hands were still clutching the corner of the blanket, gripping it tightly.
Chen Zheng took off his coat and covered him with it.
His coat was a blue cloth jacket, made by his mother in the spring.
At this moment, Zhang Jianguo pushed open the door and came in, shirtless, with one pant leg higher than the other.
The mud on his feet was still wet, and his hair was a mess, like a bird's nest.
"Ah Zheng, the money's here."
He handed over a stack of bills, some in whole bills, some in smaller denominations, and a handful of small bills.
Chen Zheng was taken aback: "Where did you get the money?"
"Given to me by my mother."
I told her about Teacher Zhao, and she took out some money from her savings and asked me to bring it over first.
Zhang Jianguo scratched his head.
"My mother said that Teacher Zhao is a good person. Back when I was in school, my family was so poor that we couldn't even afford to eat."
Teacher Zhao paid my tuition for several semesters; I must repay that kindness.
Chen Zheng took the money, counted it, and found it to be thirty-five yuan and sixty cents.
"That's enough. We'll go pay the deposit later."
That's enough.
Zhang Jianguo pulled up a chair and sat down, then looked at the bed.
Zhao Xiaojun was curled up there, a small ball, his coat covering his body, revealing half of his face, with drool at the corner of his mouth.
"This child, he must be terrified?" Zhang Jianguo asked in a low voice.
"Yeah. He ran to the lake to look for his dad, but couldn't wake him up, so he came back to me."
A nine-year-old child like that would still be nestled in their parents' arms in the city.
Zhang Jianguo sighed:
"Teacher Zhao is the same. He lives alone in the village, and if something happens to him, no one will know."
His wife, too, how could she bear to leave him all alone?
"Everyone has their own difficulties," Chen Zheng said, then went to pay the deposit.
Then the two of them just sat there, keeping watch.
Outside the window, the town was quiet at night.
Occasionally, a tractor would chug by, its sound rolling across the street before fading into the distance.
After an unknown amount of time, Zhao Deming moved slightly.
He frowned and his lips moved a few times.
Chen Zheng leaned closer and heard him calling, "Xiao Jun... Xiao Jun..."
"Teacher Zhao, Xiaojun is here, asleep. It's alright, don't worry."
Zhao Deming seemed to have heard it; his brows slowly relaxed, and his breathing became more even.
Zhang Jianguo, who was watching from the side, suddenly said:
"Ah Zheng, why are there so many unfortunate people in this world?"
Chen Zheng did not answer.
He recalled the day Zhao Deming passed away in his previous life, when Zhao Xiaojun knelt in front of the mourning hall without uttering a single tear.
They just knelt there, for a whole day.
His mother tried to pull him up, but he refused and just knelt there, completely still.
There was an old prayer cushion under his knees, which was worn through from kneeling.
Later, his mother told people that Xiaojun went home that night and cried in bed all night.
The next day, my eyes were swollen like peaches.
"How many days will Teacher Zhao need to stay in the hospital?" Zhang Jianguo asked.
"The doctor said it depends on the situation, but it will take at least a week."
"A week? That'll cost the medical bills..."
Zhang Jianguo scratched his head. "I'll go back and talk to my mother again to see if we can raise some more money."
"No need, I'll figure something out."
Chen Zheng said, "We can still catch crabs and fish. A week is enough."
Zhang Jianguo looked at him, seemed about to say something, but then swallowed his words.
As dawn approached, Zhao Deming's fever subsided somewhat.
Her face regained some color and wasn't as frighteningly pale as before.
My breathing became steady, and the phlegm in my throat seemed to have dissolved, no longer making a gurgling sound.
Chen Zheng stood up and stretched his limbs.
I sat all night, and my back aches, my neck is cracking.
"Jianguo, you stay here and guard this place. I'm going back for a bit."
"Grab some things, and see if there's anything else that needs tidying up at Teacher Zhao's house."
"Okay, you go ahead. I'll stay here."
Chen Zheng left the health center just as dawn was breaking.
The street was filled with the smell of coal stoves and the aroma of breakfast stalls.
An old man was sweeping the street with a large broom by the roadside.
Splash! Splash!
Dust flew everywhere.
He walked quickly along the street toward the lake.
When I got to the entrance of town, I saw a bicycle parked by the roadside, a big old-fashioned bicycle.
A canvas bag was tied to the frame, and the bicycle bell had been removed, leaving only a bare base.
He was thinking about how to pay for the medical bills when he heard someone shout behind him:
"Hey—wait a minute—"