Chapter 6
Chapter 6
The police arrived quickly. Before Grandma’s soup was even finished, they had already heard the whole story from me.
Both officers were named Lin. One was older, referred to as Officer Lin, and the other was younger, called Officer Lin.
Officer Lin couldn’t help but comment, “It seems college students still don’t have a strong enough awareness of fraud. This scam is just too typical-the fake fellow townsman, the fake traditional doctor, the good-cop-bad-cop routine, and then vanishing as soon as they get the money… Didn’t it ever occur to you that if he were really such a Divine Doctor, he wouldn’t have the time to keep coming to your door to treat you?”
Officer Lin shot him a glare, and the younger man fell silent.
I tilted my head back, struggling to hold back my tears. “Yes, I’m such a useless person. I suspected it at first, but then I actually started to believe them.”
I didn’t want to think about how much of that “belief” was just me brainwashing myself over and over because we were so desperate for a way out.
All I knew was that the last thirty-seven thousand yuan had been taken by them. If I wanted to be hospitalized or continue with chemo and radiation, I had no money left.
Officer Lin said, “Don’t cry, girl. You can’t blame yourself for this. You just wanted to survive, and you were willing to try any method that might save a life. There are thieves who plot for a thousand years, but no one can be on guard for a thousand years.”
Officer Lin (Junior) seemed to realize his mistake and offered a delayed comfort. “Don’t worry, miss. Mobile numbers are registered with real names now. Based on what you said, they went in and out of the hospital several times, so the surveillance cameras must have caught them. Don’t be afraid; we will definitely get this life-saving money back for you.”
Life-saving money.
It really was life-saving money.
A loud *clatter* sounded. I looked toward the noise and saw Grandma crouching down to clean up the shattered soup tureen. She was muttering as if making an excuse, “Too hot, it was just too hot.”
I didn’t know how much she had overheard or what she was thinking, but she seemed to have lost her soul. She reached for the porcelain shards with her bare hands, and because her grip faltered, a shard sliced a gash into her finger.
She didn’t notice at all, continuing to keep her head down to pick up the scattered ingredients.
Officer Lin (Junior) hurriedly grabbed her wrist. “Ma’am, stop that. You’ve cut your hand.”
Grandma didn’t listen. Trembling, she used a tissue to wipe the floor, talking to herself, “I’m old. I can’t even do a small thing like this right. I’m truly useless.”
As she wiped, she suddenly burst into tears. “I’m so useless. I was the one who practically handed the money over to let them cheat us. I gave it to them. Qianqian, Grandma is the one who ruined you…”
Before the nurse could stop me, I had already thrown off the covers and climbed out of bed.
It was strange. I was clearly a late-stage cancer patient who looked like I could stop breathing at any moment, yet in that instant, I managed to pull the old woman up.
She hugged me tightly. Her white hair was thin, and her age spots were jarring to the eye.
I realized then that I had grown so tall-tall enough to easily wrap my arms around her thin, frail shoulders.
“You didn’t ruin me, Grandma. It’s those two scammers who are the ones hurting people. Don’t cry. I’m still waiting for you to make me soup. Make me a bowl of radish soup, okay?”
When I had first fainted, it was a neighbor who had driven me to the hospital in his cargo van.
Consequently, the whole village knew I had cancer. They had pooled together two hundred, three hundred yuan at a time to help with my medical bills.
When that neighbor came over with a stack of worn, red banknotes, Grandma nearly wailed in grief.
I said, “Take it back. I have no way to pay it back, and I don’t want to seek treatment anymore.”
He said, “You don’t need to pay this back, but you must get treated. You’re the first person from our village to get into Z University. We’re all waiting for you to get better and come home to teach the younger kids your study methods.”
Those words felt familiar.
Doctor Gong’s silk banner, the neighbor’s request for study methods-one after another, they were all just different ways of encouraging me to keep living.
I smiled, but my eyes were too shallow to hold back the tears that brimmed over.
I returned to the Affiliated Hospital, and it was Doctor Gong who admitted me again.
He said with a stern face, “I was counting on you to deliver that banner to me all healthy and energetic. How did you end up like this?”
I replied, “I’m sorry. The scammers were too good at acting. I gave them all my money. I only realized it was a scam when I was at death’s door.”
He raised an eyebrow and spat several times as if to ward off bad luck. “Pah, pah, pah! Don’t you dare say that word in my ward. Now that you’re back, you’d better live well, you hear me?”
His phone rang again. As he hurried off, he turned back to drop one last sentence: “I’ve applied for a special fund for you. It covers 70% of the cost for the specialty drugs, so tell your Grandma not to worry about the money.”
The white coat vanished out the door. I pressed my palm against my forehead, finding this scene far too familiar-and far too… heart-wrenching.
Not long after he left, a group of people crowded into the doorway.
It was my close friends.
I had been hospitalized for so long that the osmanthus flowers had all fallen, and snow was beginning to drift from the sky.
The metalworking internship had ended long ago. The iron rods had practically been ground into needles, and yet I still hadn’t returned to school.
My friends sensed something was wrong and bombarded me with messages on my phone.
Of course, their way of asking was as eccentric as ever: “You didn’t fall for the doctor who took out your appendix and decide to live in the hospital to chase him, did you?”
For the first time in a long while, I let out a laugh and typed back: “Yeah, and I caught him. I’m in the hospital right now nursing the pregnancy.”
Pure nonsense.
So, when they stood by my hospital bed with red-rimmed eyes, cursing me for being a heartless jerk, I couldn’t even talk back.
I could only coax them: “I’m the patient here, and patients aren’t allowed to cry. If you keep crying, I won’t be able to hold it in either.”
They slowly accepted the reality of my illness, and then they had the sudden, wild idea of cutting off their long hair to make a wig for me.
I said, “With the little bit of hair you guys have, you could barely make me a set of bangs.”
Predictably, I was met with a flurry of playful punches to the chest.
Only this time, they were very restrained, landing softly on the cotton quilt-too gentle to even kill an ant.
They found out about the money I’d lost to the scammer, and every one of them was so furious they looked ready to uproot a willow tree with their bare hands.
“Do you have a photo? I’ll go stake him out at Lingyin Temple!”
“This kind of scammer must be a regular. How utterly wicked!”
In the end, they even cooked up a harebrained scheme to go to the temple in disguise for a sting operation.
With the help of my analgesic pump, I laughed until I’d had my fill, then started shooing them away. “Go on back. Study hard. When I get back to school, I’m still going to copy your notes.”
One by one, they came over to hug me. Just moments ago, they had been aggressively rolling up their sleeves, ready to fight the scammer to the death. Why did their voices suddenly break with tears?
“You have to get better, okay?”
I will. Of course I will.
After my friends left, the ward returned to silence.
My phone suddenly buzzed with several text messages in a row, all from the bank.
“Your account *9632 received a transfer of 8,000 RMB at the Hangzhou Branch on XX/XX/20XX.”
“Your account *9632 received a transfer of 5,000 RMB at the Hangzhou Branch on XX/XX/20XX.”
“Your account *9632 received a transfer of 5,000 RMB at the Hangzhou Branch on XX/XX/20XX.”
I knew the names of the senders well; they were the very people I had just watched walk toward the elevator.
The smile hadn’t even faded from my lips before tears suddenly spilled over, pitter-pattering onto my phone screen.
Messages were flashing in our small group chat: “We just got our scholarships. This is an advance on our wedding gifts for you. If you dare return the money, we won’t show up when you actually get married.”
I wiped the screen dry, typing through my tears: “No way, I won’t take it. When I get married, you not only have to hand me the gift money in person, but you also have to be my bridesmaids.”
Please, God, give me a chance to buy my friends a round of drinks.
Please, God, give me a chance to give my bridesmaids their big red envelopes.
Please… I really, really want to live.