chapter 25
Before the sixth round of Chemotherapy, the first snow fell.
I curled up under a wool blanket in the rocking chair. Gu Lin sat beside me, reading a book.
His foot gently pushed the rocker, lulling me to sleep, back and forth.
Groggy, I barely opened my eyes.
In the yard outside the floor-to-ceiling window, six people knelt in a neat row.
I stretched lazily, finally crawled out from under the blanket, and looked at Gu Lin:
“Let’s go to the Cemetery.”
“I want to see my Fengshui Treasure Grave.”
“And visit our parents, learn my way around.”
This would be the last Chemotherapy.
The result this time would determine whether I simply waited for the end in the later stage, or whether I would still have a chance at life.
“That grave let me meet you.”
“I feel like it really is spiritual. I want to go pay my respects.”
“Ask it to transfer some luck from my next life to this one. No need to bless my happiness in the next life.”
“Just bless me to survive this one.”
The slender fingers turning the pages suddenly froze.
Gu Lin lowered his eyes, lips pressed tightly, pausing for a full minute before finally nodding.
When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse: “Okay.”
A soft scarf wrapped around my neck.
Gu Lin put the Bunny Ear Hat he bought at Disney on me.
He wrapped me up tightly and snugly, all fluffy.
Only my eyes were exposed.
Gu Lin couldn’t help but gently tap my forehead with his index finger.
Looking like a ball already, I plopped down on the sofa.
It took a few deep breaths before I could laugh:
“Bullying a patient, where’s your manners, bro!”
“You’re like a kid, I can’t help it.”
Gu Lin pulled a Lollipop from his pocket.
He unwrapped it, gently pulled down my scarf,
and popped the candy into my mouth.
Mm, just enough to cover the metallic taste.
Gu Lin then drew an Oil-based Pen from under the coffee table.
He knelt on one knee in front of me, gently unfolded my palm, and wrote, stroke by stroke, in my hand.
Savoring the sweet taste, I smiled at him, puzzled: “What are you doing? Writing your phone number?”
Gu Lin smiled too, but his eyes turned red:
“Just making a mark. So it’ll be easy to find you if you get lost.”
He put the marker away, and the character “Lin” lay quietly in my palm.
I lowered my eyes and quietly clenched my hand.
Just as I was about to open it, a tear fell through my fingers.
Gu Lin, hands trembling, closed my hand in his palms and lowered his forehead.
He just knelt there, face buried, sobbing uncontrollably.
In the half a year since we met, this was the first time I had ever seen him truly sad:
“Lu Siyuan, please… don’t leave me… I beg you…”