The heroine of the healing department is very rigid [Pride and Prejudice]

Mary somewhat resembles Catherine.They both loathe the lady rule, they both love freedom, and they're both stubborn.

But this similarity is not enough to make Heathcliff look at Mary differently. In fact, these similarities are not discovered until he has known Mary for a year.He could no longer tell whether Mary resembled Catherine or Catherine resembled Mary.

Or, they have no similarities at all, but he wished to find Catherine's shadow in other women.

He thought he was looking for Catherine's shadow from Mary, but now he couldn't remember what Catherine should look like.

What was Catherine Earnshaw really like?He doesn't remember.After leaving Wuthering Heights for too long, many engraved hatreds began to blur.

Heathcliff held a pocket watch with a small portrait of Catherine on it, closed his eyes, but his mind was full of Mary's black hair and brown eyes.

"Mary."

"Mary Bennet."

Heathcliff took out from his clothes the "Bible" that Mary had given him.It can be seen that this "Bible" is quite old. Although the owner still cherishes it, probably because of carelessness, the corners of a few pages have been slightly rolled up.Heathcliff smoothed the corners one by one with his fingers, and then under the moonlight, he read word by word the "Bible" that he had never read before, and did not want to read.

"I came into the world as a light, but whoever believes in me will not abide in darkness."

"Do not live in darkness." Heathcliff inadvertently repeated the sentence in the "Bible", with a dazed expression.

The moonlight cast coldly on the trenches, making the gray-black land pale.It's hard to tell what kind of smell is in the air. Blood, embers, soil, and tender grass after the rain are mixed together, forming a strange, cold and fresh, but people don't like it.The battlefield has been cleaned up, and the bodies of the sacrificed soldiers are buried forever in the ground, turning into the nourishment of plants and trees a hundred years later.But their blood was still left on the battlefield, and the hard ground became soft because of the moisture of the blood. In a corner invisible to the naked eye, a plant was growing vigorously.

This "Bible" has been with Mary since she learned to read and write. On the first day she got it, she couldn't wait to write her name on the title page to swear her sovereignty: Mary Cynthia Bennet.

At that time, she could barely write her own name, and every letter was crooked and different in size, which was uglier than a dog crawling.When she grew up, Mary wanted to tear up this page of black history more than once if she wasn't worried about offending God.

Heathcliff stroked the crooked name on the title page, his eyes were darker than today's night, he laughed, the dirt on his face was a little loose due to the movement of facial muscles, and the medal hanging on his chest jingled.

"Cynthia," he had never known that Mary's middle name was Cynthia.

Cynthia, goddess of the moon.

Free, beautiful and pure Cynthia.

"Don't live in darkness." Heathcliff rested his head on the sack in the trench, repeated the sentence in the "Bible", and then showed a mocking and sad smile.

The night was getting deeper, dark clouds were overwhelming, the moonlight was getting weaker, and the writing on the "Bible" became blurred.

He is doomed to coexist with darkness, and even God cannot save his soul in hell.He's the one to be torn to shreds by the hounds. ②

Whether it is Heathcliff or Mammon, he belongs to hell, and the light is destined to miss him.

He closed his eyes, but he saw Mary again in his mind. She was wearing a maroon cotton and linen dress, riding a white pony, holding a long, slender, black riding whip in her hand.She ran across the pasture, stopped again, looked back at him, and held out a hand.The sunlight casts dappled shadows on the lawn through the branches and leaves.

Heathcliff plucked up his courage and walked towards Mary, approaching slowly, the sun dragged his shadow very long, he stretched out his hand tentatively, but found that his hand was stained with blood.Mary screamed in horror and started to back away, her face contorted as if seeing a monster.

She was retreating, struggling, and finally fell into a hell.He saw her fearful and resentful eyes.

Heathcliff suddenly opened his eyes and sat up. This was the first time he saw Mary in his dream.He didn't like this, but he didn't want to wake up from the dream.A few days ago, he learned from his friend Bentley that Hertford had also been reduced to a battlefield. Mr. Bennet donated the main manor as a temporary hospital.He didn't need to think about it, Mary must have volunteered to nurse the soldiers again.She always does.

To be honest, he was a little annoyed.Mr. Bennet donated the estate, so where does Mary live?Crowded with your family in two wooden houses the size of your thumb?

He was worried.

worry.

For him, it was an emotion that was unusual—or never before.Even the first love Catherine Earnshaw rarely appears.For Catherine, his feelings are actually not very complicated, from love to hate, that's about it.

But Mary is different. The appearance of Mary brought him various emotions that had never appeared before, and turned him from a breathing corpse into a living person.

He began to understand what was surprise, what was curiosity, and what was anxiety.

And, what is missing.

"Bang." A young soldier fell in front of him, making a muffled sound on the ground. He lost too much blood and could not be saved.On the last night of his life, he chose to stay in the trenches, looking at the blurred moon in the sky, and missing his hometown.

Heathcliff closed his eyes for him, showing no trace of sadness.This kind of thing happens every day, he is used to it.Such things as pity and sentimentality should not belong to a soldier.He looked at the dried blood on his hands, and suddenly felt extremely disgusted and bored.

He could pass himself off as a well-mannered gentleman if he wanted to, but he didn't want to.

Bingley once persuaded him to propose to Mary, but he refused without thinking.

Isn't the reason obvious enough?Mary always brings hope, but he brings disaster.

Mary Bennet would marry a well-spoken man with an heir to the family, something like Edgar Linton, maybe a Bentley, it couldn't be him at all—a cunning and sinister bloodthirsty demon.She will have a beautiful and warm life instead of being with the devil.

Mary has always been a person who is not very careful in life, and she is not as sentimental as other girls. When she sees fallen leaves, she feels that time flies.When she saw the fallen leaves, she would only think that it was a good time for autumn hunting, and that the University of London had already started school.But now, all she can think about is how to treat these wounded soldiers.

"Doctor Mary, Doctor Mary!" Charlotte staggered into the ward with blood on her hands, "A new patient must be treated immediately."

Mary handed the medical records to the assistant, and she didn't have time to take a sip of water—she hadn't drank water for a day, so she followed Charlotte to the operating room.The fighting situation in Britain is getting worse and worse. Doctor Wilson and other military doctors are destined not to stay in a place like Hertford for too long. About two months ago, they were ordered to go to a place where the fighting situation was even more severe.

So Hertford was given to Mary and some young doctor's assistants.

This is simply absurd!

Two months ago.

"You guys are clearly giving up Hertford and the soldiers here!" Mary stood in Dr. Wilson's office, her hands were still stained with blood that hadn't been washed off after the operation.

"They are still waiting for you to come to save their lives, but you are leaving!"

"The battlefield in London needs us more." Wilson explained as he packed his things. He was haggard and his voice was hoarse. "Mary, you have to understand that the battlefield is different from other places. Sometimes we have to make choices."

"You said you would not give up on any of your patients." Mary pressed Wilson's hand on the desk, trying to do something feeble.

"That was in normal times, Mary." Wilson sighed and withdrew his hand. Mary's warm palm made him a little nervous. "Now, if we want to win, we must sacrifice."

"So you have to sacrifice the soldiers stationed in Hertford? It's not fair. They are as brave as the soldiers in London, and they are fighting the enemy for their homeland." Mary asked, her voice trembling, and Wilson said every word. I understand it, but it's hard to accept it.

"They have the right to live."

"You are still here, Mary." Wilson put his hands on Mary's shoulders, "I hand over the soldiers here to you. As long as you don't give up on them, they will have the hope of living again, understand?"

"It's impossible." Mary shook her head. "You know, Dr. Wilson, I haven't received a systematic education, nor have I attended a medical school."

"But you are better than many people who went to school, understand?" Wilson slowed down, "Because your class is conducted in practice, you have to believe that you are no worse than anyone. In fact, you are better than anyone else." They're better."

"I can't, Dr. Wilson." Mary shook her head tremblingly, trying not to cry, "I'm alone, no, I can't."

She was scared, even if she didn't want to admit it, she was really scared.Heathcliff and Wilson were right in saying that she had not experienced war and had no idea what war was like.

The endless attacks and blood, the person who greeted you in the morning has only one head left at noon, in addition to pretending to smile and appease the emotionally broken soldiers, Mary began to feel powerless.

"I believe in you, Mary." Wilson wanted to use a handkerchief to help Mary wipe away the tears hanging from her eyelashes, but he immediately realized that this was not in accordance with the rules, so he withdrew his hand.

"The soldiers downstairs need you, you are their hope, understand? You have to be strong, so that the soldiers have hope. They only have you now."

"You can do it, right?"

"..."

"..."

"I can." Mary swallowed back her sobs, took a deep breath, looked up at Dr. Wilson, "I will cure them."

"Is the window screen installed?" Mary took off her apron and came out of the operating room. This is her fifth operation today. "There are a lot of mosquitoes and fleas in Hertford this time of year. We can't let these things Hurt our soldiers again. War always goes hand in hand with malaria and the Black Death."

"Don't worry, everything has been arranged." Elizabeth lovingly mentioned Mary to wipe her sweat, and handed over a glass of warm water, "Mr. Bingley said, London has won another battle, and I believe this will be over soon. Outside things We have to deal with it, you have to rest for a while, you haven't slept for two days."

Mary drank the water in one gulp, her throat hurt even when she drank it due to chronic dry throat.She rubbed her sore forehead, and decided to listen to Elizabeth's advice. After all, if this continues, there is no guarantee that she will make any mistakes in the treatment.

She was so tired that she fell asleep as soon as she lay down.

Too bad it wasn't a good dream.

Mary dreamed that Emily turned into a big black mouse, followed by a group of small black mice, and they crossed the English Channel aggressively, looking like they would never die.

Mary opened her eyes abruptly, wiped the cold sweat off her brow, and found that it was already dark.

With a "click", a black dip pen rolled to the ground. Mary picked it up, carefully wiped off the dust on the pen, stared blankly for a while, and then put the pen back into her clothes.

This is the pen Heathcliff gave her.The nib has been worn out by her and has not been replaced with a new one.The main reason is that this pen is too expensive, and the nib is specially made from London, and she has no place to do it.

A slight meow brought Mary back to her senses.

There are a few free-ranging kittens around Hertford that are used to catch mice.Most of the time they were well-behaved, and occasionally howled in the spring night, but today the sound was particularly miserable, and Mary immediately got up and ran downstairs.

In the yard of Bennet Manor, a soldier on crutches was carrying a newborn black cat, with a sack thrown at his feet.

"What are you doing?" Mary ran over holding her skirt, trying to save the kitten.

"It's just in time, Doctor Mary." The soldier shook the kitten, "Come and help me suffocate this little bastard."