The video call rang for a good several dozen seconds before it was finally answered.
On the screen, Su Zhi was lying sideways, her phone propped against the pillow as if she lacked the strength to hold it steady. The hospital room’s lighting cast a cold white glow across her face, making her already pale complexion look even worse. Her condition was terrible.
Ming Can’s initially cheerful voice stalled the moment she saw the image clearly, afraid that Su Zhi might notice.
She lifted the packaged food container bag in her hand, shook it slightly in front of the screen, and spoke in a sweet voice. “Sister, look, I packed the crucian carp and tofu soup from right outside the school gate.”
Su Zhi acknowledged it faintly and asked, “How did the interview go?”
Hearing about the interview, Ming Can couldn’t help wanting to share. The joy on her face surfaced once again, with her brows and the corners of her eyes radiating a subtle glow.
“It went pretty well, Sister.” The shop was a bit noisy. Ming Can exchanged a parting look with the proprietress, took her phone, and walked out the door, speaking as she moved. “When the interviewer from Zhongkong asked me at the beginning if I had any medical information-related projects, I was about to panic to death. Later on, I thought of some details from when Sister helped me revise my resume yesterday, so I copied the cat to draw the tiger. I said that although I hadn’t participated in medical-related projects, I had observed some usage scenarios related to medical systems while working as a caregiver. Seeing that she didn’t look very repulsed, I kept going. As I talked, she actually seemed to grow interested, asking me a lot of insightful questions and even quizzing me on algorithms. I answered every single one of them. The interviewer told me that neither my educational background nor my resume was the prettiest, but the fact that I could observe system workflow issues while in a caregiver position and still have the mindfulness to record data was an awareness different from many fresh graduates. Later, I saw her put my resume into a separate pile from the others. Sister, do you think this means I have a really good chance of passing?”
She rattled off a bunch of things in one breath. Only after finishing did she realize she might have been overly excited, biting her lower lip self-consciously before offering a quick excuse. “Hehe, but there are so many people competing with me. The final result still has to go through layers of screening. The interviewer told me to go back and wait for a notification, which will take about three to five days.”
Su Zhi listened quietly on the other end of the screen, the fatigue between her brows seeming to fade just a bit.
“Mm,” her voice was somewhat hoarse, but her tone was softer than before. “Being able to talk about these things shows that she’s interested in you.”
Ming Can’s eyes brightened. “Really?”
“Mm. If she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t give you time to say this much.”
Ming Can’s eyes brightened even further, but she soon noticed that Su Zhi’s voice didn’t sound quite right. Leaning closer to the screen to look, she discovered that the sides of Su Zhi’s temples, further away, were oozing sweat, and the light in her eyes was being forced together by sheer willpower.
“Sister, are you not feeling well?” she asked.
“No.” Su Zhi shook her head, trying to hide that bit of helplessness back into the background.
Ming Can saw it, but she didn’t press further.
“Sister, then I’ll hang up with you first. I’ve reached the subway entrance and will be right back.”
Without waiting for Su Zhi’s response, she cleanly and decisively hung up the video call. The school was some distance away from the subway station. Usually reluctant to spend a single dime, she hurriedly checked the traffic conditions and then decisively hailed a taxi to the hospital.
The fifty-minute subway journey was compressed into half an hour. Jogging all the way to the hospital room, Ming Can paused at the door to catch her breath twice, making sure her breathing was steady before pushing the door open.
“Sister, I’m back.”
The hospital room window was open, and the heat from outside drifted in, neutralizing the coolness of the air conditioning. Su Zhi was maintaining the same posture from the video call, lying sideways with her phone resting by the pillow. Hearing the sound, her eyelids lifted, struggling to focus on the door.
Ming Can walked over in two or three strides, placed the bag containing the crucian carp and tofu soup on the bedside table, and reached out to touch Su Zhi’s forehead. It wasn’t hot, but there was a layer of fine, cold sweat that felt very cool to the touch.
“Is your stomach still feeling really uncomfortable? Should I go find Sister Gong Que to come take a look?”
Ming Can made to stand up after speaking, but her wrist was gently encircled by Su Zhi. Her fingers were very cold, and there was a thin layer of sweat in her palm as well.
Their gazes drew close, and the hesitation in the depths of Su Zhi’s eyes became even clearer. She parted her lips, and after a few seconds, she said, “Help me change.”
Ming Can was momentarily stunned. After processing it, she nodded gently. “Okay.”
Su Zhi’s hand loosened, and her weary eyes closed, hiding the emotions at the bottom of her eyes away into the darkness.
Ming Can moved quickly, turning to go into the bathroom to fetch a basin of warm water, along with clean hospital clothes and nursing pads to clean up.
“Sister, I’m starting.” She still gave the other person time to react first, then bent down to lift the thin quilt covering Su Zhi.
Su Zhi didn’t open her eyes, but her eyelashes trembled lightly.
The moment the quilt was lifted, a faint scent of ammonia mixed with the hospital’s signature disinfectant drifted out. It wasn’t heavy, but it was present.
Ming Can didn’t speak. Her fingers rested on the edge of the pants, gently pulling them down. The instant the fabric was removed, her movements paused.
Beneath the incontinence pants, Su Zhi’s buttocks and upper thighs were soaked white, the skin developing a layer of fine, crinkled folds. The inner sides exhibited an abnormal redness, stretching from the groin all the way to her intimate areas. In some places, fine rashes had even formed, pinhead-sized, densely embedded in the swollen, red skin.
Ming Can’s eye sockets ached, and her throat felt as though something was blocking it.
She remembered what Jiang Yang had said earlier: Su Zhi had a mild germ phobia. She couldn’t bear to imagine how a person with a mild germ phobia managed to soak herself in such moisture for an entire afternoon.
Gong Que had been here, but she hadn’t asked her for help. The nurses had been here too, yet she hadn’t asked them for help either. She would rather bear all the pain and suffering alone than open her mouth to trouble others, and rather than expose her wretchedness to anyone else.
That was the kind of person she was, proud and strong-willed.
Ming Can suddenly felt a twinge of heartache, mingled with a bit of regret.
“I’m sorry,” she bit her lower lip and said softly.
Su Zhi’s body was bare to the air and a bit chilly. She didn’t open her eyes. Instead, after a good dozen seconds or so, she said calmly, “During your leave, accountability is not required.”
At that instant, Ming Can couldn’t hold it back. Tears rolled out of her eye sockets, dropping onto Su Zhi’s leg skin, warm and scalding.
She sniffled and muttered with a stuffy voice, “If I had known, I wouldn’t have gone to the rest of the interviews.”
The fingertips Su Zhi had buried in the bedsheet tightened slightly as she urged, “Hurry up, I’m cold.”
Ming Can hastily brushed the back of her hand across her eyes to suppress the tears, then wrung out a hot towel to help wipe her down.
“Mm,” her voice still carried a nasal twinge, but her movements were steady. When the towel covered her waist and abdomen, Su Zhi’s muscles tightened abruptly, her fingers gripping the bedsheet until her knuckles turned white.
Ming Can didn’t stop, only lightening her pressure a bit, wiping away the dampness from the chafed skin inch by inch. When the towel was lifted, a pale yellow stain was soaked onto it, the mark left by urine penetrating the skin. Lowering her gaze, she dropped the towel into the water and wrung it out a second time. The splashing sound of water covered up the sound of her breathing.
During the cleansing process, Ming Can adjusted her emotions. Once everything was ready, she gradually recovered her usual bright and cheerful demeanor.
She purposely dabbed two fingers into her perfume and lightly touched them behind Su Zhi’s ears. “All done, Sister. Now you’re a fragrant Director Su!”
The hand Su Zhi had clenched into the bedsheet slowly relaxed, and so did her tense nerves. She relaxed her breathing, slowly experiencing the refreshing cleanliness of her body after being washed. It felt so good.
Ming Can smiled, starlight flickering in her pupils. “Fragrant Director Su, shall we eat?”
The crucian carp and tofu soup she brought back had cooled down a bit, so Ming Can took the food container to reheat it in the microwave. When she returned, Su Zhi had already closed her eyes and fallen asleep.
However, since the other person hadn’t eaten anything all day, Ming Can couldn’t rest easy, so she forcefully dragged her out of her dreamscape.
“Sister,” she walked over and lightly tapped Su Zhi’s shoulder. Su Zhi failed to wake up, so Ming Can leaned down and pressed her palm against her cheek. “Sister, the crucian carp and tofu soup is ready.”
Su Zhi slowly opened her eyes. Her pupils seemed to float up from the bottom of a deep body of water, taking a long time to find their focus.
Ming Can’s face was right up close, the warm light washing over her from behind and outlining a soft, fuzzy halo around her young face. Her palm was still pressed against Su Zhi’s cheek at just the right temperature, neither cold nor hot, resting against her gently.
Su Zhi parted her lips, wanting to say she had no appetite, but then she remembered the child waving her shopping bag excitedly on the screen during their video call earlier, and how she had gone out of her way to detour and pack the crucian carp and tofu soup. She couldn’t refuse, nor could she turn a blind eye to that kindness.
She raised her arm slightly, signaling Ming Can to help her up.
Ming Can quickly propped the pillow up vertically behind her waist and adjusted the edge of the quilt to cover her legs.
“Sister, the tofu soup is a bit hard to scoop up. Lean back against the bed and I’ll feed you.”
Su Zhi’s gaze landed on her face, hesitating for a few seconds before giving a tacit nod of approval.
Ming Can sat down by the bedside holding the food container. The tofu soup was at the right temperature. The savory flavor of the crucian carp and the tenderness of the tofu blended together into a milky-white soup base, with steam rising upward and carving out a small slice of warmth in the surrounding chilly air.
She scooped half a spoonful of soup and small pieces of tofu, blew on them gently, and brought them to Su Zhi’s lips.
“Sister, taste this.”
Su Zhi parted her lips and used the tip of her tongue to roll the food into her mouth, holding it as her cheeks tensed tightly, as if gathering some kind of strength. After a few seconds, her Adam’s apple moved slightly, then stopped.
It seemed she was having trouble swallowing again.
That mouthful of soup and tofu was stuck right at the back of her throat, neither going down nor coming up.
Ming Can noticed. Her spoon hung suspended in mid-air without moving, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on Su Zhi’s throat, watching the tendons in her neck tighten and relax twice over. In the end, she still failed to complete that swallowing motion.
Su Zhi was somewhat stubborn. Unable to swallow, she tried hard over and over again. In the end, she shook her head several times, her swan-like neck contracting and flexing, stubbornly forcing that mouthful of food down into her esophagus while tears of physiological reaction clung to her eyelashes.
Ming Can felt a pang of heartache, wiped her with a tissue, and stopped feeding her.
After resting for a moment, Su Zhi actively parted her lips and took the food into her mouth, repeating the process. She struggled until her temples were covered in sweat. By the fourth bite, what had been forcibly swallowed earlier sprayed right back out, leaving her chest and collar stained with traces of fish soup.
Ming Can promptly set down the food container in her hand, supported Su Zhi’s shoulder with one hand, and reached for the tissue box at the head of the bed with the other.
Su Zhi was still vomiting. Her stomach felt as though it were being wrung by an invisible hand, spasming again and again, pushing everything inside outward. Before she even had a chance to catch her breath after the first heave, a second one surged upward, and a foul odor permeated the air mixed with the fishy smell of stomach acid.
Her spine arched into a curve, and her shoulder blades poked out like two thin blades as her entire body trembled.
Ming Can supported her forehead with one hand and used tissues to catch the vomit with the other. The tissues were soaked through in no time, and the acid leaked through the tissues onto Ming Can’s hands, sticky and freezing.
She didn’t care in the least. Her whole heart was focused entirely on Su Zhi.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. This fish soup was probably too greasy, next time we’ll switch to something lighter.”
Su Zhi’s stomach was still churning. By the last few heaves, there was nothing left to throw up except for acidic water. Yellow-green liquid streamed down the corners of her mouth, stretching into thin threads and dripping onto the already contaminated quilt. The burning pain of stomach acid scorching her esophagus made her whole face wrinkle, and a low, suppressed sob escaped from her throat.
Ming Can patted her back to soothe her, comforting her continuously.
Su Zhi’s entire body felt hollowed out as she leaned exhaustively against Ming Can’s arm, her face deathly pale, her lips devoid of any color, and the stray hairs across her forehead damp with cold sweat, sticking in strands against her brow bones.
Her hand was still gripping Ming Can’s sleeve, exerting a light yet tight grip.
Ming Can rolled the soiled tissues into a ball and tossed them onto the floor, freeing up a hand to touch Su Zhi’s face. That face was frighteningly cold, her temples covered in sweat, and her gaze scattered.
“I’m sorry.”
Su Zhi spoke, squeezing two words out from the back of her throat. There was more breath than vocal cord vibration, and the two words were mumbled and indistinct.
Her vision was unfocused, unable to see Ming Can’s face, so her lips merely moved as she vaguely added, “I made a mess.”
Ming Can froze in place, still clutching that ball of dirty paper.
Su Zhi’s shoulders were trembling slightly, not from the cold, but from the uncontrollable muscular tremors following a bout of vomiting. She wanted to control it, but she couldn’t.
The next second, Ming Can leaned forward, sweeping her and the mess alike into her embrace.
Holding her tightly, she repeated over and over, “Sister, it doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t matter. I’ll help you clean it up.”
She would clean it up for her, no matter how many times it took.