When The Snow Falls In Autumn Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Respiratory Medicine Department, third floor, inpatient department, City No. 1 Hospital.The air is always filled with a lingering complex smell of disinfectant, medicine and aging bodies.The corridor lights are pale, illuminating the smooth but slightly old floor tiles, and occasionally muffled conversations and the buzzing of the pager can be heard from the nurse’s station.Most of the ward doors are ajar, and intermittent coughing, the faint sound of TV programs, or the low murmurs of family members can be heard inside.

Ye Qiulan sat on the folding nursing chair beside his father’s hospital bed, his back straight, but he couldn’t hide the fatigue in his eyes.My father fell asleep, his face was ashen, there was an oxygen tube in his nose, and his chest rose and fell slightly with his slightly difficult breathing.Mother leaned on another chair, dozing off little by little, holding a ball of crumpled tissue in her hand.

It’s already the third day.My father’s condition has basically stabilized and his lung infection is under control, but the weakness and asthma caused by the chronic disease are still heart-wrenching to watch.Various examinations, payment, taking medicines, communicating with doctors… are trivial and tiring.Ye Qiulan barely closed his eyes, his nerves were like a string stretched to the limit and might break at any time.

The sky outside the window was gloomy, as if it was going to rain again.The air conditioner was on in the ward and the temperature was suitable, but she felt a little cold and subconsciously hugged her arms tightly.I still have the thin coat I wore when I went home, and I have no time or thought to go back and get thicker clothes these days.

The phone vibrated in my pocket.She pulled it out and saw that it was a message from Ling Xueqing. It was very brief: “How is the situation?”

In the past three days, Ling Xueqing would send such a message every day. The time was variable, sometimes in the morning and sometimes in the evening.The content will always only contain these four words, or something like “Are you feeling better?”, with no extra greetings or emoticons.Ye Qiulan responded briefly every time: “It’s stable.” “Still observing.” “It’s better.”

Like a routine confirmation.But for some reason, seeing this news every day, the tight string in Ye Qiulan’s heart would loosen a little.Even if it’s just the tiniest trace.It seemed to remind her that outside of the world filled with the smell of medicine and anxiety, there was a clear coordinate that belonged to her original life.Although that coordinate itself also carries distance and silence.

She lowered her head and typed the reply: “I feel better today. The doctor said I will observe it for another two days.” Send.

Almost the next second after the message showed “delivered”, the phone vibrated again.This time it’s not text, it’s a picture.

Ye Qiulan clicked.

The picture was taken of a corner of the long oak table where they often sit in the library.The thin afternoon sunlight shines through the west window, casting mottled light and shadow on the table.On the table, there is a thick annotated copy of “Hedong Collection” spread out, and next to it is a black water-based pen with the pen cap uncovered.On the edge of the book, pressed a small bag of individually wrapped… ginger candies?The packaging is light yellow with simple words printed on it, which is difficult to see clearly.

Under the picture, there is a line of words: “Teacher Zhao gave it to ward off the cold. I left it for you.”

He didn’t ask “Do you need it?”, nor did he say “I’ll bring it to you.” He just stated a fact: the candy is there and it’s for you.

Ye Qiulan stared at the picture blankly.Sunshine, old books, pens, and a small bag of cheap ginger candies.The picture is calm, ordinary, even a little dull.But this too ordinary picture and that line of plain description were like a tiny pebble, thrown into the lake of her heart that had been almost numb with fatigue and worry for days, causing a circle of tiny but extremely clear ripples.

She seemed to be able to see Ling Xueqing sitting in front of the familiar table, her thin profile outlined in the thin afternoon light.She might have just finished a period of reading or writing, remembered something, took out her phone, took a photo of this corner, and then wrote that line.The movements are probably still emotionless and smooth.

But, she remembered.I remember that I left in a hurry and didn’t bring thick clothes. I remember the constant air-conditioning in the hospital. I remember… I might need something warm.Even if it’s just a bag of regular ginger candies.

The sourness came up without warning and became stuck in the throat, making the eyes even hotter than the exhaustion of the past few days.Why is it always like this?Ling Xueqing could always use this most casual and restrained way to touch the softest and most vulnerable place in her heart.When she is in the most confusion and needs the most support, give her some real and silent thoughts.

She looked at the small bag of ginger candies on the screen of her mobile phone, and gently rubbed her fingertips on the cold screen, as if she could touch the insignificant but tangible warmth through the screen.Then, she typed slowly: “Thank you. Are you…feeling better?” She remembered that Ling Xueqing was clearly running a fever on the day he sent it to her.

This time, the reply didn’t come so quickly.After about two or three minutes, the phone vibrated again.

“Okay.” There were only two words.

Ye Qiulan looked at those two words and pursed his lips.She knew that Ling Xueqing was most likely not completely “healed”, and maybe he just didn’t want her to be distracted.Just like she would just say “stable” in her reply, without mentioning her father’s still uncomfortable cough at night and the tears her mother secretly wiped away behind her back.

They are all using their own ways to maintain a superficial calm and protect each other, or they just don’t want to add more heavy weight to the already complicated relationship.

In the ward, my father moved and let out a vague murmur.The mother woke up immediately and leaned over to take a look.Ye Qiulan also put away his mobile phone and leaned over.

“What’s wrong, Dad? Do you want some water?”

My father shook his head drowsily and fell asleep again.The mother breathed a sigh of relief, sat back on the chair, rubbed her red eyes, and gave Ye Qiulan a forced smile: “It’s okay, I was sleepy. Do you… want to go to the cafeteria downstairs to eat something? I’ve been here for three days and haven’t even had a proper meal.”

Ye Qiulan really had no appetite, but looking at his mother’s haggard face, he still nodded.”Okay, I’ll buy some porridge and bring it up, and you can eat some too.”

She picked up the meal card and change on the bedside table and walked out of the ward quietly.The air in the corridor seemed more stuffy than in the ward.She walked to the elevator and pressed the down button.

The elevator door opened slowly, and there was no one inside.She walked in, leaned against the cold car wall, and watched the floor numbers jump one by one.Fatigue swept over her like a tide, making her a little dizzy.She closed her eyes, but the picture of the long oak table and the small bag of light yellow ginger candy appeared in her mind involuntarily.

“Ding——” The elevator reached the first floor.

She opened her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked out of the elevator.The lobby on the first floor of the inpatient department was full of people coming and going, noisy and chaotic, and full of anxious, worried or numb faces.The smell of disinfectant became stronger in the air.

She walked through the hall and towards the staff cafeteria.When passing a row of vending machines, she paused.The vending machine displays a variety of drinks, snacks, and… rows of coffee and hot drinks.Her eyes fell on the icon of a hot ginger tea, and the packaging was also light yellow.

By some strange coincidence, she took out her phone, scanned the code, and bought a can.The can rolled out and was held in the hand. It was heavy, and the warmth was transmitted through the metal can wall to the palm, bringing a strange and solid warmth.

She held the jar of hot ginger tea and did not open it immediately.Feeling the little bit of warmth on my fingertips, the sour tide in my heart seemed to quietly recede, leaving behind a wet but no longer cold beach.

Went to the cafeteria window and bought porridge and side dishes for two people.Carrying a simple plastic bag, she walked back.Walk through the noisy lobby again and head to the elevator.

While waiting for the elevator, she leaned against the wall and finally pulled the tab of the can of hot ginger tea.There was a soft sound of “chi”, and the warm breath with the smell of ginger hit your nostrils.She took a sip and the liquid was scalding hot with a spicy sweetness. It went down her throat and instantly dispelled the coldness and emptiness accumulated in her internal organs.

It’s not very tasty, too sweet, and the ginger flavor is a bit strong.But the real heat warmed her cold fingers slightly, and also relaxed her tense nerves for a moment.

She thought of the bag of ginger candies in Ling Xueqing’s picture.Don’t know what it tastes like.Probably…it’s also this kind of sweetness that’s a bit harsh.

The elevator is here.She walked in, holding the can of hot ginger tea that was still mostly half full, and looked at her blurry shadow reflected on the car wall – her face was pale, her eyes were blue, and her hair was a little messy.

But the fingertips holding the can were warm.

Back in the ward, my mother had fallen asleep leaning on the chair again.She gently placed the porridge and side dishes on the bedside table, then sat back in her escort chair and slowly drank the rest of the ginger tea.

The sky outside the window suddenly revealed a faint, gray light, and the clouds seemed to be thinner.The rain finally stopped falling.

The phone lay quietly in my pocket, not vibrating again.

My father was sleeping deeply, and his breathing was calmer than before.Mother’s tired sleeping face also relaxed slightly.

The ward was extremely quiet, except for the occasional, regular ticking sound from the instruments.

Ye Qiulan gently placed the empty can at his feet, pulled a thin blanket from the chair next to him, covered his mother, and carefully tucked his father’s quilt.Then, she sat upright again, her eyes falling on the little bit of light outside the window that struggled to break free from the clouds.

The warm touch of the can and the spicy and sweet smell of ginger still seemed to remain in my hand.On the wet beach in my heart, something is quietly taking root in that insignificant warmth, sending out extremely tiny, almost inaudible, stubborn buds.