Siheyuan: Sizhu starts blindly and takes a new path

"Eight hundred yuan..." Qin Huairu's voice was as light as a sigh, "Make arrangements... Get a certificate..."

Hearing this number, the old man's hands trembled. He subconsciously touched his pockets - there were still a few coins left, which were left after paying the medical expenses. The ward suddenly became quiet, with only the medicine in the drip bottle dripping drop by drop.

"Uncle..." Qin Huairu looked at him expectantly.

The old man turned his head away, avoiding the burning gaze: "This... is not a small amount..."

The light in Qin Huairu's eyes dimmed little by little. She let go of the old man's sleeve and slowly shrank back into the quilt, as if all her energy and spirit had been drained away.

"Huai Ru..." The old man wanted to say something, but swallowed it back. Eight hundred yuan! Although his monthly salary was more than one hundred yuan, eight months would be enough, but he and his wife had no children and needed to support themselves in their old age. As they got older, they couldn't spend money carelessly.

There were footsteps in the corridor, and Yan Jiecheng pushed the door open, holding a net bag with two aluminum lunch boxes in it: "Uncle, please eat something first... Hey, Sister Qin is awake?"

The old man stood up as if he had been pardoned: "Jie Cheng is here, it's just right, you can talk to Huai Ru, I will go find the doctor to ask about the situation."

After leaving the ward, the old man breathed a sigh of relief. The eight hundred yuan was like a huge stone weighing on his heart. It wasn't that he didn't want to help, it was that he really couldn't afford it!

Through the glass on the door, he saw Qin Huairu forcing a smile to Yan Jiecheng, and that smile was uglier than crying. The old man suddenly remembered that many years ago, when Jia Dongxu had just died, Qin Huairu also forced a smile in front of everyone in the hospital, and then hid in the toilet and cried alone.

At the door of the doctor's office, an old man met Yan Jiefang. The guy was whispering with a young man in a white coat, and when he saw him coming, he immediately stood up and said, "Uncle! How is Sister Qin?"

"I need to rest." The old man looked at Yan Jiefang and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I...I want to ask about the medical expenses." Yan Jiefang's eyes wandered, "Um...Sister Qin's hospital deposit is not enough..."

The uncle's heart sank: "How much more is left?"

"Thirty-seven dollars and sixty cents." The doctor next to him flipped through the account book. "In addition, the examination found that the patient had old tuberculosis lesions in his lungs, and further treatment is required."

The old man's head was buzzing. Money again! He touched the twenty or so yuan left in his pocket and suddenly felt extremely tired.

When they returned to the ward, Qin Huairu had already fallen asleep with tears on her face. Yan Jiecheng whispered, "Sister Qin just ate some porridge and fell asleep again."

The old man nodded and sat down beside the bed. Moonlight shone in from the window and fell on Qin Huairu's sunken cheeks. She didn't sleep well, her brows were furrowed, and she would occasionally tremble.

"Uncle," Yan Jiecheng said hesitantly, "Sister Qin just said...the Banggeng thing..."

"Yeah." The old man rubbed his temple tiredly.

"I...our yard won't..." Yan Jiecheng's voice became even lower, "That won't do...she has too many family matters to deal with."

The uncle looked up in surprise. Yes, the Jia family has so many problems. Is it because they are poor that they have more troubles, or is there something wrong with their family's feng shui? Bah, I can't think about this.

At night, an old man was dozing off in a chair when he was suddenly awakened by a sobbing sound. Qin Huairu had woken up again without knowing when, biting the corner of the quilt and crying silently.

"Huai Ru..."

"Uncle," Qin Huairu said in an unusually calm voice, "What do you think...if I die, can Banggeng come back to attend the funeral?"

The old man shuddered and said, "What nonsense!"

Qin Huairu smiled, and that smile made the old man shudder: "I heard... that if the parents died, the educated youth could come back to take care of the funeral... maybe... they could stay..."

"Are you crazy?" the old man shouted, but he lowered his voice for fear of waking up the person in the next bed. "You are willing to give up your life for a son who doesn't live up to his expectations? What about Xiaodang and Huaihua?"

Qin Huairu's tears welled up again: "But I...I really have no choice..."

The old man opened his mouth but could not say anything to comfort her. Yes, what else can we do? Eight hundred yuan is an astronomical figure for ordinary workers.

"Uncle..." Qin Huairu suddenly stood up, and the IV tube was pulled with a rustling sound. She grasped the corner of the uncle's clothes tightly with her fingers, and lowered her voice very low, "If you are willing to pay this money..."

The old man subconsciously wanted to hide, but she pulled him tighter. The morning light leaked in through the gap in the curtains, shining on Qin Huairu's pale face, and her swollen eyes flashed with a strange light.

"I'll let Banggeng...beat you with a banner and smash a pot!" Qin Huairu almost gritted her teeth to squeeze out these words.

The air in the ward froze instantly. The old man froze in place as if struck by lightning, even his breathing stopped for a few seconds. Beating the banner and breaking the pot - this is a ritual that only sons can do at their father's funeral, and it is the most solemn symbol of blood inheritance.

"You...what nonsense are you talking about..." The old man's voice was unsteady and his hands were obviously shaking.

Qin Huairu seemed to be grasping at the last straw, and she spoke faster and faster: "You have no children... someone will have to take care of your affairs after your death... Banggeng may be a jerk, but he knows how to repay a favor... I will let him wear mourning clothes for you and send you off like a real father..."

The old man's Adam's apple rolled up and down. These words were too heartbreaking. He was 62 years old this year, and he was often awakened by the same nightmare at night - he was lying in a coffin, and there was no one to break the clay pot. The young people in the courtyard called him "the extinct one" behind his back, and he knew it.

"Huai Ru..." The old man's throat was dry, "This is not about money..."

"Eight hundred yuan is nothing to you!" Qin Huairu was so anxious that she was about to cough up blood again. "You have a high salary, and your savings over the years must be enough... I beg you..." She suddenly rolled off the bed and was about to kneel down. "I, Qin Huairu, will work like a cow or a horse to repay you in this life!"

The old man rushed to help her, but the IV stand fell to the ground with a bang. The old lady in the next bed was awakened and grumbled a few words in dissatisfaction.

"Get up! What a shame if someone sees you!" The old man pulled Qin Huairu to the bed. Seeing the bloodstains on the corners of her mouth, he felt sad. What kind of motherly love is this?

Qin Huairu collapsed on the edge of the bed, tears and snot all over her face: "Uncle... you can bear to watch Bang die outside?"

The morning light was getting brighter and brighter, and I could already hear the sound of a nurse pushing a medicine cart in the corridor. An old man stood at the junction of light and shadow, with half of his face hidden in the shadow.

"That kid Banggeng..." the old man said with difficulty, "Is he really obedient?"

Qin Huairu's eyes lit up, and she immediately pointed to the sky and swore: "If he dares to disobey, I will break his legs! You don't know, that child is the most filial..." She was impatiently describing a beautiful picture that did not exist at all, as if Banggeng would be able to kneel down in front of the old man and call him daddy tomorrow.

The old man listened silently, his eyes falling on his rough palms. He had worked in the steel mill for more than 30 years, and every penny he saved smelled of rust and engine oil. Was he really going to exchange it for an empty promise?

"Huai Ru..." The old man finally raised his head, "This matter...is not appropriate."

Qin Huairu's expression froze instantly.

"Banggeng is your child with Dongxu." The uncle's voice became more and more stable. "If you really want to beat me, what would Dongxu think in the underworld? We...can't do this."

"Dongxu has been dead for so many years!" Qin Huairu almost screamed, but she suppressed it. "Uncle, think about the future! Who will burn paper for you at your grave? Who..."

"I have my own plan." The old man interrupted her, his tone surprisingly calm, "As for the money... we'll think of another way."

Qin Huairu collapsed as if her bones were pulled out. She didn't expect that even this last trump card would fail. The old man obviously cared about this the most...

The nurse pushed the door open to change the dressing, breaking the solemn atmosphere in the room. The old man took the opportunity to say goodbye, saying that he was going to the factory to ask for leave. When he walked out of the ward, the sweat on his back had soaked through his shirt.