Autobiography of a paranoid patient

(85)

The dean repeatedly apologized to me.

My mother used the label of the clothes to mark me. The light-colored short-sleeved dress on her was a newly bought dress. The hanging label was made of plastic.

"This time it was our negligence." The dean hurriedly asked the doctor to check the wound for me.

I wasn't thinking about it, and my answer was a little absent-minded, which might have made the dean feel that I was angry and talked more.

"We will strengthen management in the future. You can talk about any compensation you want this time."

The doctor skillfully wrapped up the wound for me.

He wrapped the wound very small and pasted a piece of mesh gauze.

Only then did I speak up and said, "It's okay."

The dean couldn't figure out what I meant for a while.

"I'm going first." I said.

Seeing that I was really leaving, the dean stood up to see me off.

He walked with me for a while, and I said no.

(86)

It is strange that I am still standing in the corridor, but I feel that someone is waiting for me outside the corridor.

I felt the man's gaze, looked up, and looked through the darkness of the entire corridor to the light outside in the garden.

(87)

I don't know when Feng Yue arrived, but it looks like it's been some time.

He asked me if I wanted a drink, and when I unscrewed the cap of the water bottle and handed it to me, I smelled cigarettes on his fingertips.

He stood leaning against the car door, waited for me to swallow two or three mouthfuls, then took it and threw it back into the seat, even locking the car.

"My house, do you want to go and have a look?" Holding the key, he pointed to a small building not far away, with a casual attitude as if it was not a very private place, but a public garden, tired of passing by Anyone can go in and sit down.

I looked at him hesitantly and was spotted by him.

His eyes shifted to my newly injured hand, I flinched, put my hand behind my back, and said, "Go."

(88)

The garden in front of the house is already a bit dilapidated, and it seems that no one has taken care of it all year round.

Feng Yue walked in front of me, looked at me, and said to me: "I haven't been back for a long time."

He opened the door, and the house was still tidy and clean, as if someone had always lived there.

I put my palms on the sofa.

Looking out through the sliding glass door from here, it is the large garden outside.

"It must have been beautiful here before?" I asked.

"It's very beautiful. My mother likes to grow flowers. I was only here when I was a child. When I grew up, my mother took me abroad. I have been studying abroad since then." Feng Yue stood beside me, with gentle eyes .

I think it must be a memorable time.

Those dilapidated flowers and plants seem to be growing again, and I saw some combinations of flowers that I like very much.

Feng Yue pulled my wrist, and rubbed my thumb lightly on the gauze for a while.

"Does it hurt?" He looked at my wound.

"You know mine, it doesn't hurt." I said.

Feng Yue took it for a while, and I followed him upstairs.

The hand has not let go, at first he circled my wrist, and then our two hands clasped together, he kneaded and pressed my fingers.

I didn't stop until I reached the top floor, and I watched him take out a very small and old brass key and open a wooden door.

Outside the door is a small balcony, which can barely accommodate two men, but it is still a bit crowded.

He simply took me by the hand, asked me to stand in front of him, circled me from behind, and asked, "What did you see?"

Suddenly there was a small wind, which made my hair fly in a mess.

"When did you know me?" I asked him.

I felt a gust of wind in my chest too.This gust of wind blew all the way to my heart, and my blood was all gathered together, and it was about to swell and shatter.

He moved closer to me and wiped the area around my eyes with his index finger.

His kisses fell on my cheeks slowly, one after another, pity and caring.

"I don't know how old you were at that time, it doesn't look very big," Feng Yue said, "You have always been a crying bag."