Fire fighting

When Yan Qing died, only.

According to his wishes, he donated a pair of corneas after his death.

A six-year-old child who was blinded by a high fever regained his sight.

The funeral was held in the back garden of Wencheng's old house. Such a living person, who loves to laugh, run and jump, was cremated to ashes, imprisoned in a small box, and buried in the earth pit dug long ago.

Along with it, there were also sunflower seeds put in by Yan Qing before his death.

There are several large characters engraved on the back of the tombstone, which are the epitaph prepared by Yan Qing.

——Life is good, come again next time.

He was so optimistic before, even if he hadn't tasted a little bit of sweetness, he would never mention bitterness.

In the lower right corner of this line, there is another naughty sentence.

"Finally I can go to Van Gogh to learn how to paint."

Just looking at these words, one can imagine Yan Qing's voice.

There were very few guests, only a few familiar people from the fire station, no more than ten in total.

There were also neighbors nearby who came to watch the excitement, using the passing of the owner of the house as a topic of conversation and sharing news with passers-by.

"Have you heard? The little boy that his parents didn't want was gone last night."

"Oh, you are so pitiful, how good-looking you are, it's time to go to college, why did you leave at such a young age?"

The only person crying was Wen Yi. She cried so much that she couldn't stand up, and she almost collapsed on the ground while supporting Jiang Ce.

"Yan Qing is my patient, he is my patient, I clearly promised to see him, but I didn't take good care of him..."

Some people present sighed and regretted, but none of them got out of control.

Xiang Rong stood in front of the tomb without saying a word.

Everyone wanted to comfort him, but he was indifferent, with no expression on his face, neither crying nor smiling, and he didn't respond to anyone talking.

No one knew what he was thinking, he was like a dummy, blinking once in a long time.

The end point of emotion is not uncontrollable hysteria, nor is it the screaming of the liver and spleen.

It is silence, the silence of ashen ashes.

The funeral ended in a hurry in the morning, and no one seemed to care about the funeral, except Wen Yi and Jiang Ce.

Except Xiang Rong.

Wen Yi cried for a long time, and slowly regained her strength. She helped Jiang Ce, came to Xiang Rong, and blew her nose.

"Xiang Rong, do you know? In fact, I persuaded Yan Qing at the time that I wanted him to undergo an amputation operation so that he could live longer, but the reason he gave me was that he wanted to leave intact."

She looked at Xiang Rong's indifferent face, and said in a hoarse voice, "Yan Qing didn't think so at all, otherwise he wouldn't donate his cornea. Once when you were on duty at the fire station, I called to ask about his condition." , He told me that if he amputated his limbs, he would not be able to paint for you, and he also said that he wanted to hug you more, but without his right arm, he would not be able to hug you again.”

Xiang Rong was as indifferent as before, but this time, he closed his eyes.

The cool wind weeps blood, and none of the flowers in a radius of several miles are in full bloom.

Wen Yi knew that his heart was like a knife, and said softly: "Don't be too sad, Yan Qing can live to this day, you should feel lucky for him, the pain of bone cancer is not something ordinary people can bear, but Yan Qing survived several rounds Just before he was discharged from the hospital, the hospital gave him a critical illness notice. I don't know why, he is in such pain, but he is still so attached to the world and refuses to let go."

The wind made Wen Yi cough twice, she squeezed her sore throat from crying, got up and walked into the house, passing Xiang Rong just in time.

"I realized later that it was your appearance that gave Yan Qing hope," Wen Yi said while walking, "He was pronounced dead in April by the doctor, and after meeting you, he lasted until June."

As soon as the words were finished, the door was gently closed. Jiang Ce patted Xiang Rong on the back, sighed, and followed Wen Yi into the room.

In the garden, Xiang Rong stood in place, slowly opened his sour eyes, and the world was blurred.

The scene in front of me became clear again as the two lines of tears fell.

He stood for a long time, everyone left, and he was still standing.

There is no photo of the tombstone, but Xiang Rong remembers everything. The depth of the pupils, the smile on the corner of the mouth, and the tenderness of the palms when the fingers are interlocked seem to be engraved in Xiang Rong's heart.

Yan Qing appeared when he was at his lowest, and disappeared when he was at his hottest.

There are very few relics of Yan Qing, nothing more than this 30-square-meter house, Xiang Rong cleaned the house again by himself.

The hot pot on the table, the pills by the bed, everything remains the same.

It seems that the owner of the house just went out temporarily to buy sweet-scented osmanthus cakes and will be back soon.

In addition to the house, there is also the courtyard.

Xiang Rong cleaned the steps, specially removing the weeds beside the tombstone.

After cleaning, it looks brand new.

He searched everywhere, not wanting to miss any blind spots. Yan Qing loved to be clean when he was alive, and he had to walk cleanly when he walked.

The mailbox outside the iron gate has not been wiped down.

It was dark and windy that night, in order to get Yan Qing's forgiveness, he specially put the cat and dog dolls on the mailbox, hoping to attract Yan Qing's attention.

At this moment, the mailbox stands quietly outside the garden.

Xiang Rong walked over, wiped off the dust with a rag, opened the door, and there was a letter inside.

The envelope is bright red, and it looks festive. The delivery date is today, and it seems that the postman just delivered it not long ago.

When I opened it, I realized that it was not a regular letter, but an admission letter.

The sender is the Academy of Fine Arts of Jiangzhou University, the university that Yan Qing most wants to go to.

"Hello Yan Qing, congratulations on being admitted to our school's art major. Please follow the requirements of the admission notice and report to the school in September with this notice."

In just four sentences, Xiang Rong was stunned.

The hand holding the admission notice trembled slightly, and there was an indescribable sadness in my heart.

It's too late, it's too late.

Xiang Rong raised his head and opened the notice to the sky. The sky was clear and cloudless, not a single star could be seen.

"Yan Qing, did you see it?" His voice was rough and choked up, "Your wish has come true."

He held it for a long time, even though his arms were sore, he didn't let it go.

After taking back the notice, he untied the sunny doll on the beam, picked up the dolls of kitten and puppy on the ground, Xiang Rong put them into the storage box together.

This storage box was to be brought back to the fire station, and Xiang Rong decided to keep these things as a treasure.

He also put some other items, such as the yellow sweater when he first met Yan Qing, and the conch he picked up from the sea.He wanted to bring more, but Yan Qing kept too few things.

Suddenly, he found a notepad in Yan Qing's canvas bag.

Maybe it rained too much when I went back to the south, and the pages of the book were weakened, but it was well preserved and still brand new.

It was the wish book that Xiang Rong gave to Yan Qing, and all wishes were recorded in it.

Xiang Rong kept turning the pages and read all the wishes. Every time he read one, he could think of the corresponding story.

Obviously these experiences are real, but he doesn't feel good in his heart.

I have been to the Shenjiang Bridge, but it was being repaired at that time.

I have also seen sunflowers, but the flower season has not yet arrived, and there are not many flowers in the flower field.

The meteor shower had arrived, but it was just an illusion made with searchlights, and it didn't really come.

But Sunrise was even more the same, he was not able to accompany Yan Qing on his last journey.

Didn't earn enough for college and didn't completely remodel the home...

These wishes seem to have been fulfilled, but it seems that they have not been fulfilled.

Every bit of the past has become a sharp edge. Whenever I think of that beautiful time, that real experience, every eye touch, every tacit smile, every time I think of the person who accidentally smeared the paint on the pear. In the vortex, the child who didn't know it and laughed foolishly, the sharp knife pierced his heart, stabbing repeatedly in the same place, the pain made him feel dazed all over his body.

And at the bottom of the wish book, wrote this sentence:

"Brother Xiang Rong is indeed omnipotent, he will definitely help me fulfill all the wishes in the book!"

omnipotent.

These four words made Xiang Rong's nose sore.

He joked in front of Yan Qing more than once that he was omnipotent, whether he was waiting to watch the shooting star on the top of Yanshan Mountain, or carrying a gas tank on his shoulder in the fire scene, he had boasted like this.

But he was wrong.

He has extinguished the raging fire, crossed the soaring torrent, carried the wounded, and held the children. It is precisely because he has the mission of saving lives that he always thinks that he is omnipotent.

But he had saved so many people, but he couldn't save Yan Qing, the person he wanted to save the most.

His thoughts froze for a moment, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He held back his emotions, only to realize that the last two pages of the wish book had been torn off.

The tear marks were not clean, and there were still scraps of paper stuck in them.

But where did the two missing pages go?

Xiang Rong searched the house, but still couldn't find it, so he had to carefully put the wish book into the storage box first.

Glancing out of the corner of the eye, he saw a figure outside the iron gate.

It was a child, holding the iron gate with both hands, looking at him.

"Beibei?" Xiang Rong walked out of the house, walked through the garden, and came to the iron gate.

"Brother Xiang Rong, you're here too." Beibei's voice was lowered, and he was not familiar with Xiang Rong except for meeting him once at the scene of the fire.

"Do you have something to do?" Xiang Rong's tone was as gentle as possible, for fear of scaring him.

Beibei shook her head: "I'm here to play with brother Yan Qing."

His heart missed half a beat, and Xiang Rong didn't know how to explain it to such a young child.

Seeing his silence, Bei Bei seemed to have expected something: "Brother Yan Qing fell ill again?"

He was a little flustered, and took out a stack of banknotes and steel coins from the left and right pockets of his trousers, took Xiang Rong's hand again, and stuffed the money into it.

The money was scattered, there were one-yuan and fifty-cent coins, and there were also five-yuan and ten-yuan banknotes. Some were whitish and washed, and some were wrinkled. I don’t know how long they had been placed.

Holding the wad of money, Xiang Rong was at a loss.

Beibei pouted and said, "Dad will give me pocket money every week to buy food. These are the food money I saved. I have saved it for several months."

As he spoke, he rubbed his stomach, as if he was hungry for saving money.

"Brother Yan Qing's family conditions are not good. Dad said he has no money for medical treatment, so I saved the money for meals. Brother Xiang Rong, please take it in and give it to Brother Yan Qing. Don't say it's mine, or Brother Yan Qing Definitely not."

Xiang Rong looked at Beibei's innocent face, and his eyes became foggy again.

Obviously the money in his hand is not a lot, but it is as heavy as a stone.

He knelt down, returned the money to Beibei, and hugged him gently.

"I don't need it anymore, Brother Yan Qing doesn't need it anymore."

The voice trembled wildly, sounding fragile.

Beibei was held tighter and tighter by him, and shrank into Xiang Rong's arms. He didn't understand what this meant.

But he looked into the house in a blink of an eye, and there was a stone tablet that was out of place in the grass-covered garden.

Seeing this, and thinking of Xiang Rong's reaction, he gradually understood.

Xiang Rong could suppress his emotions, but Beibei couldn't.

Tears poured down silently, and the mouth and nose were full of soreness.

He sobbed, raised his hands, and hugged Xiang Rong as well. As his mouth opened wide, his crying became louder.

"I don't want money, I want brother Yan Qing..."

Xiang Rong hugged Beibei who was crying bitterly, but couldn't hold back his tears.

Beibei cried so much that she was tearful, and only repeated this sentence in her mouth.

"I want brother Yan Qing, I want brother Yan Qing..."

Time passed by in a panic, and the day passed in a groggy state.

When preparing to leave, the sun was already approaching the western mountain. Xiang Rong picked up the storage box, stood in the courtyard, and looked around the small house for the last time.

The furnishings in the house remain unchanged and will not change in the future.

Before locking the door, he stopped by the tombstone again, on which Yan Qing's name was engraved.

"Yan Qing, I'm going back to the fire station. I'll see you another day, okay?"

Except for the wind, there was no response.

"I will help you realize the wish on the notepad. If you have anything to say, please entrust it to me."

A laurel leaf fell on the collar, and Xiang Rong pinched it between his fingers. The scent of cinnamon lingered in his nose, and he bent down and put it on the ground.

"Do you want to eat sweet-scented osmanthus cake? I will continue to make it for you and bring it over next time."

Summer should have been hot flashes, but in the evening my heart felt cold.

Suddenly, a wind blows.

Xiang Rong closed his eyes subconsciously, and when he opened them again, the tomb was covered with osmanthus leaves.

Sunflowers bloom in July and osmanthus flowers in August.

But Yan Qing died in June.

Xiang Rong knelt down on one knee, picked up the leaves with his hands, and suddenly another gust of wind blew the bay leaves towards the tombstone.

Picking up like this, you can't finish it at all.

"Yan Qing, are you back?"

The wind is naughty, and the laurel leaves are naughty.

Xiang Rong's silent heart suddenly became clear: "You don't want me to leave either, do you?"

After speaking, the wind stopped.

The laurel leaves no longer fall.

"Don't worry, I will visit you often."

Emotions surged again, he couldn't bear to look at the stele anymore, and reached out to touch the hanging osmanthus branches, no matter how strong the wind was, the lingering fragrance would not dissipate.

"Yan Qing, God sees that you have suffered enough, and has called you to enjoy the blessings. You have to take care of yourself over there, eat more, and grow some meat, so that your nutrition can keep up."

The branches slipped from the fingertips without any hesitation.

"Be obedient, Yan Qing..."

The setting sun shines on Wencheng's old house, creating a vague warmth.

Xiang Rong couldn't remember how many times this was the first time he shed tears.

Once the iron gate was locked, the yard was sealed off.

Xiang Rong stood on the street and did not leave for a long time.

Looking at the yard, I seemed to see the child again in a trance. He was sitting in the house, holding a paintbrush and smiling.

Time to go back.

Xiang Rong lowered his head, turned and left.

In the garden covered with laurel leaves, a sunflower sprouted out of the ground.