A collection of short stories about Qingshan as snow and yellow

In his life, I have passed him three times.Every time you happen to be there.

Do you find it incredible?Or, do you believe in fate?It's a bit funny for me to say this. After all, fate, after all, has never been willing to get along with me.

The day I saw him for the first time, he was about to turn ten years old.For children, celebrating their birthday in the hospital is certainly not a happy thing, not to mention the busy doctors and nurses, even the parents can't remember what special day it is today, they are already busy just taking care of patients. Exhausted.As for himself, he was still awake less often than he was asleep.

His ward was in the middle of the corridor on the fourth floor, facing a window overlooking the garden in the courtyard.Around the triangular pool, there are organic camellias and fake almond trees that are always in full bloom, and a fog machine covered with a lion's shell is lying among the flowers.The white water vapor spit out from the lion's mouth before dawn will climb up in the early morning and turn into an artificial fog that fills the entire courtyard, covering the restless sunlight.The machines used at that time must have been updated long ago. Some people said that there was a smell of sour dates in the fog at that time.

You said you remember that hospital?Of course, because you were there too.I said you are always there.

You are temporarily in the hospital with an injured left leg caused by an out-of-control parameter during a school simulator exercise.The kind of injury that a century ago might have required three months in bed, now you're almost healed in less than a week.You walked alone on the garden path that day, thinking of reading a book on the bench you used to go to, and then the fog machine broke down; the raw materials that were not completely liquefied were transpiring in the light, and the whole garden was immersed in a white mist like milk.Breathing the high-concentration sedative that makes you trance, you hold on to the railing and try to get back into the building, but what you meet is a hand.

This is your first meeting, although he is not impressed by it.Until a long time later, when you talked about this topic, he still wanted to ask you: So you remember it clearly?Was I taller than you then?

You say yes, but that doesn't mean anything.Your legs are still not in good shape, and you will be a few centimeters taller if you take off the brace and stand upright.

He was wearing a pair of red headphones, and the lights glowed in the fog as he took your hand and walked back.He ran out secretly, but he was unlucky. The nurse who quickly discovered the abnormal situation in the garden ran out and sent the two of you back to the ward.After dinner, you tell your classmate who came to visit you about it, and your classmate says that he's always wanted to poke his head into the fog machine and smell the soothing agent, but never got the chance.

You say it doesn't feel very comfortable, it's best not to try it.

You often don't sleep well in the hospital, which can be serious for your age.You slipped out of the corridor in the middle of the night and saw him lying on the window sill again.You can't remember exactly what he looked like in the fog, but the flickering lights of those headphones let you know it was him.

"Can't you sleep too?" he asked.

You nod."I have an operation tomorrow afternoon and I'm a little nervous," he said.

So you chatted.After the sun sets, the lion no longer spits out white mist, and the garden under the moonlight is completely still, and there is no wind that blows over the inorganic leaves and treetops.He says it's his birthday tomorrow, but no one remembers it, and he doesn't really want to celebrate it, because it's such a miserable birthday in the hospital that he might as well just forget about it.If there's anything sadder than spending your birthday in the hospital, it's spending your birthday in the operating room.

You tell him to wait, and then you run downstairs and buy two boxes of ice cream from the vending machine.After you came back, you thought of it and asked, "Can you eat this food because of your illness?"

He nodded.

"I invite you." You handed him the box of pumpkin flavor, "Happy birthday."

You're sitting in the hallway eating ice cream.You tell him how your leg hurt, and he wants to talk about the reason for his surgery, but the rationale isn't as straightforward as yours ("Accidentally broke the leg.").In the end, all he could say was, "There's something wrong somewhere in my head...they're going to put something in there to keep me from exploding."

You honestly said you didn't understand.He said, "It doesn't matter. What's your name?"

"Yu Wenzhou." You said.

"My name is Huang Shaotian." He pointed to the door behind him, "I live here, come and play with me when you have time."

But you all miscalculated the time.When you came to the ward the next morning, he had already been pushed into the operating room ahead of time, and when he came back, you had already been discharged from the hospital.What you don't know is that I was also at the end of that moonlit corridor, wanting to talk to him about tomorrow.Unfortunately, or fortunately, I missed this opportunity.

Years later, you know exactly what happened in that operation.Doctors implanted artificial micro-blockers into his brain to suppress the excessive growth of type IV hormone and prevent it from continuing to conflict with his nervous system, which cannot withstand high-intensity stimulation.What you don't know is that because he stayed outside for too long at night (there may be ice cream in it), before the morning, his condition deteriorated again, and the doctor decided to perform an operation in advance; On the afternoon when the surgery was supposed to take place, some glitches occurred in the hospital's integrated communication system, which led to several less serious incidents-but if this glitch had occurred during his operation, it almost certainly would have have fatal consequences.

You ask me why I use "almost"... something that didn't happen, you never know how it will end up, right?

The operation was successful and he left the hospital two days later.Two years later, after his older brothers and sisters started working one after another, he moved with his parents to the next big area, and then graduated from the local military academy.As a talented fighter pilot, he did not go to the headquarters with ordinary recruits, but was sent directly to the front camp.You are the captain of the first team there.When he walked nervously and tried not to be so nervous through the underground base passage, walked to your office, and pushed open the door with the blue badge, it was exactly 12 years since you said goodbye under the moonlight at the Children's Hospital .

"Team one, Huang Shaotian!" He shouted to report to you, looking past your face, staring at the empty wall behind you.

You already knew he was coming.When you got the list, you remembered the name, remembered your short but interesting fate, and the red indicator light on the earphones.You ask, "Do you know my name?"

"Your name is Yu Wenzhou, sir," he said.

That operation had some impact on his memory, very weak, and the biggest sequelae may be that he doesn't remember you very much.After all, you have only met twice, and to him, you almost do not exist.

Did you feel regret at that time?A little bit, right?But not many.I think so too.

Soon you won't have time to think about what you happened to see when you were kids, the camp serves as a front line that's always ready to fight the aliens, and even rookies have to jump into the fray as soon as possible.You find him braver and better than you expected, and also unusually daring.After a few years of life and death together, you gradually became more familiar, and he talked more and more.This is not your illusion.

"If only we could get another variable-speed jammer," he said that day at the top of the watchtower overlooking the camp.You sit on benches in a climate-controlled room while poisonous medicinal plants bloom behind you in glass enclosures. "Set it at [-] points, maybe we can reverse this passive situation in the next battle...Of course I know this is not realistic, the priority of the headquarters is greater, but if there is a chance..."

You turn the screen of the workbook to let the bluish light illuminate his profile.He saw "Application Approved" written in scarlet on the form, and the camp's permission letter.

"What!" he cried. "Really?"

You smile and let him grab the workbook.After raising his voice in ecstasy, he quickly lowered his voice again and talked about your previous tactical idea.Your mind drifts away from his words, but still revolves around him; you watch his heartfelt smile, the bright yellow bandage around his shoulder, the ever-changing gestures, the blinking while he goes on and on stop eyes.The natural light from young stars shines through the paper glass, casting shadows with patterns, and the goldfish and aquatic plants composed of light and dark lines are slowly flowing away at your feet.

I was there too, I followed that application you submitted.You are not afraid of risks, and I believe that you are not completely unaware of the consequences of the new battle plan.

I believe that even if there are too many unforgettable moments in your military career that fill your memories, you will never forget any detail of that stormy night.At that time, the turbulence passing over the northern port was actually silent, and it was impossible to catch even the slightest omen with only human ears; however, when it showed colorful streamlines in magnetic imaging , or when the deafening whistling and wailing are announced through the spectrum converter, everyone knows that what is coming is not only a battle, but also a life and death close at hand.

The siege lasted three days and nights.The elegy in the ancient times could also write "Blood stained their roads red", but there are many soldiers who died here, and there was nothing left. The organic matter that made up their bodies was transpiring under the hot light, and flew towards the darkness among the stars. Go, what remains may be a protective shell, a lens, or a strand of hair caught in the dashboard.It doesn't make a difference to me, but you sure don't.

At that time, I walked through the thick smoke under the night to the cabin where you are hiding.The optical shell has been burned for too long, and it has completely turned into a striking gray-black, and a thin layer of water droplets has condensed in the darkness.The temperature control equipment has stopped working, the cabin is alternating hot and cold, and the internal circulation that brings oxygen is also on the verge of collapse.What's worse, just now he used his last bit of energy to manipulate the jammer, which destroyed the balance in his brain. Fingers grabbing your sleeves, collar, or whatever, silently telling you to leave him alone.

what about you?You walk around in the cabin, rummaging through boxes and boxes, without noticing my arrival.

This time I was close to him, but not enough.You finally found what you were looking for, unwrapped his arm, and injected him with undiluted type IV hormone; the drug reaction was rapidly progressing in his body, and the cycle that had been suppressed for many years broke through the time the doctor had added to his brain. Block, leap to a higher balance line.

You sit next to him all night, swabbing his hot forehead and neck with what little cooling you have left.The jammer's operating box is faithfully operating right next to you, and it has won you a battle, and it has claimed many lives.What were you thinking at that time?Have you ever thought of the milky white mist in the patio garden as the radiation counters trickle toward the danger zone?

But you won in the end, you pulled him back from death.By the time the rescue team brought the two of you to first aid after the battle, he had begun to sleep peacefully and soundly.Not long after, you explained the situation in detail with the doctor. The doctor said that your luck, if not good, at least avoided three-quarters of the danger and successfully grasped the only hope.He told you not to do this in the future.

"There should be no next time," you said, "but if I didn't do it then, he would have died."

The doctor said: "If his block is not successfully broken, you can say that you killed him yourself."

"Is there a difference in the final result?"

"It doesn't matter to him..." The doctor sighed, "But your own life is not in danger. If he really died because of this, you will be in trouble later."

"On the contrary, he operated the jammer to save us," you say. "I was just fulfilling my duty as captain."

Before he woke up from the ward, you received a new transfer order, and you only had time to look at him through the glass.Everything seems to be a recurrence of the scene of the year. In your sleep, you said goodbye again silently.What lies between you this time is not only time, but also continuous wars and the lives and deaths of countless people. The few words passed across the long distance only make you more and more strange.Am I right?

Therefore, it didn't take too long for you to find each other again, but it seemed to be much longer than the 12 years you didn't know each other.

You moved after the war, and your new life started off well, but like anyone who has been through blood and fire, some things just can't go back to the way they were before.Your insomnia gets worse and worse, and sometimes you go to the nearby park before dawn and don't go to work at the university until dawn.The grass and trees, flowers and fountains in the park are all real plants and real water.You met him there.

He wears a blackout mask and helps the neighbor's grandfather walk his dog.When he saw you, he pushed the mask over his head, revealing his still bright face.

"Captain," he said, "I got your postcard."

You take a walk along the river with your two dogs, and he tells you about your current residence, the cake shop downstairs, and the shivering constant temperature system in the teahouse selling silk scarves.He said that on the last night of living in the assigned dormitory, the administrator knocked on the door and delivered your handwritten postcard.He also said that since coming to the city, he has also taken frequent walks in the park.

As for the war and the many past events that brought him medals, he didn't mention it, as if he didn't remember it at all.

"When I woke up one morning, I suddenly remembered something that I hadn't thought of before." He gestured, "We met each other in the hospital when we were young, right?"

You say yes.He likes to use gestures to express emphasis when speaking with familiar people, and this habit has not changed at all.

In the early morning of this weekend, you chatted and walked around the fountain six times in total.Strange to say, you have all come to this park often before, but you just met today for the first time.If I had known that you would be here, I would have had a premonition and simply gave up the idea of ​​approaching him.It's a pity that I am not a prophet. I sat by the fountain that day and watched you pass by me, thinking that I made a mistake again this time.

After two years you move into a new house together, you quit your job and start writing a book.During his annual physical, doctors told him he was recovering well and was almost out of danger.

"Have you been sick before?" you ask.

"A small problem," he said. "You haven't checked with me before, so I didn't tell you."

He still told you about it when he got home.The loss of internal balance induced by the post-war syndrome has been bothering him for the past few years, but after reuniting with you, its negative impact has gradually been reduced. "I can't feel it at all," he said.

You say, "This is no small problem."

"It's a disease that can be cured as long as you drink more hot water to keep you happy." He poured a glass of hot water.

"That is to say, you feel very happy when you are with me?"

"Of course," he said triumphantly, "because I'm lucky."

I absolutely agree with this statement.

The above is the whole story of me passing him three times.I believe you are largely responsible for it, even if you don't necessarily intend to, or even know how your actions may lead to the follow-up of your story.

As I said, you never know how it will end up if it doesn't happen.Maybe when he entered the operating room as scheduled that afternoon, the artificial rain would patter on the white flowers in his window.Maybe in that hot and cold cabin, he will see the end of the stars in a peaceful dream.Or, at dusk, he will sort all his things into boxes, attach a thoughtful letter, mail it to relatives and friends including you, and then walk into the medical room.But as fate never compromised with me, he took another path, with you.

Every time in the past, I was too far away from him.But this time is different, I came to you, and I was able to say a few words with you just out of curiosity.Soon you will wake up, forget about our short conversation, and go home with him who is waiting outside the ward.You still have a lot of time, a lot of future, a lot of things to do.

One day we will meet again, at that time, I hope you have no regrets.This is me, as a god of death, my blessing to the wonderful fate between you.

END