The oil was smoking, seemingly already very hot. Wen Qi picked up the bowl of egg mixture and poured it into the wok. With a sizzle, the egg mixture hit the oil, and droplets splattered outward, landing on his hand. Flustered, he stumbled back several steps, then stretched out his arm from a distance to stir with the spatula.
Good thing his arms were long, or he wouldn’t have been able to reach the wok at all.
But as he stirred, the burnt smell in the wok grew stronger and stronger. Thick smoke billowed up, and what should have been golden fried eggs turned charred black.
At a moment like this, Wen Qi had no idea what to do, so he just dumped the washed bok choy into the wok as well.
The greens went in, gradually releasing their moisture as they stir-fried, and finally the wok stopped billowing smoke—though the smell wasn’t exactly pleasant.
Even though he didn’t cook, he had bought all the necessary seasonings. He added salt to the wok, then thought he should probably put in some soy sauce too. He grabbed the bottle and poured, accidentally adding too much. The already burnt vegetables turned even darker.
After busying himself for over an hour, the dish finally came out of the wok. On the porcelain white plate sat a lump of black, unrecognizable matter. Wen Qi stared at it for a moment, then decisively dumped it into the trash can and made himself a bowl of instant noodles instead.
Downstairs at Li Suian’s place, she was at that moment holding a bowl of rice and eating with gusto. In front of her was a dish of spicy and sour fish.
She had cooked the fish Da Hu had brought back today—cleaned it, deep-fried it in the wok, then simmered a spicy and sour broth with scallions, ginger, garlic, and pickled bamboo shoots, and returned the fish to the pot for a slow braise.
The golden, crispy fried fish had been returned to the pot to soak up all the broth, tender and falling apart, perfectly infused with flavor. It went wonderfully with rice—Li Suian could easily eat three big bowls.
…
The next day, after breakfast, Li Suian was heading to the fields to work. She loaded six large baskets of manure fertilizer into her three-wheeler, grabbed her hoe and sickle, and set off.
Da Hu was already in sync with her. Seeing her finish loading the cart, he knew it was time to go and hopped into the passenger seat on his own, sitting up straight and proper.
It was already past eleven. When Li Suian passed by Wen Qi’s gate, she saw him lying in the yard sunbathing as usual, still covered with that thin blanket, face and head wrapped up.
She gave a quick honk as a greeting, but no one responded. She didn’t mind—she had already gotten a rough sense of this neighbor’s aloof personality.
The three-wheeler continued on. Along the way, she passed villagers also driving their three-wheelers to the fields, and they honked at each other in greeting. It was their special way of saying hello among those who owned vehicles.
At the fields, Li Suian dumped the baskets of manure fertilizer into piles on the ground, to be used as fertilizer when spring planting came around.
After finishing with the manure, she took her hoe and sickle to clear weeds. Nothing had been planted in the fields since last autumn’s harvest, so quite a lot of weeds had grown. She cut them down, tied them into bundles, and loaded them up to take back for the cattle to eat.
As soon as they reached the fields, Da Hu ran off to play on his own. The rat holes scattered across the fields were enough to keep him digging all day, and when he got tired, he’d find a shady spot to nap. Li Suian couldn’t help but feel a little envious of his carefree life.
The weeds were full of beggar’s ticks. Walking through them even once left your clothes covered in their seeds, and Li Suian hated that plant the most.
She kept clearing until around four in the afternoon, when the three-wheeler was loaded full of grass. Li Suian was ready to call it a day and head home.
Da Hu had run off somewhere to play. She shouted a couple of times at the top of her lungs, and almost immediately, rustling sounds came from the woods at the edge of the field. In no time, Da Hu came bounding out of the forest, a stick clamped in his mouth. Li Suian knew this was his trophy for the day.
The stick was perfectly straight and smooth. Online, they said no man could resist the allure of a perfectly straight stick—apparently, dogs were no different.
She tossed Dog Brother’s stick into the cargo bed. Da Hu gave it several confirming looks, and only after he was sure his stick wouldn’t go anywhere did he hop into the vehicle with peace of mind.
Back home, as she passed by Wen Qi’s doorstep, Li Suian glanced inside as usual. The man was still lying on the chair, fast asleep, in the exact same position she’d seen him in that morning.
She honked the horn twice, hoping to rouse the man inside. This guy was probably frail—always lacking energy and spirit. She worried he might quietly kick the bucket without anyone noticing.
After all, theirs were the only two households in the area. If he were to die, she’d be pretty spooked passing by his place every day.
No one responded to the honking. She called out a couple of times, but still no answer. She had no choice but to park the three-wheeler by the roadside and walk in.
She patted the man’s body—no reaction. Noticing one of his slender, long-fingered hands sticking out from under the blanket, she inexplicably reached out and touched it.
That touch gave her a fright—it was cold!
Li Suian’s eyes went wide with shock. Surely nothing had happened to him!
She pulled the blanket off his head, revealing a face that was exquisitely handsome, yet pale and utterly bloodless.
Oh no, oh no, this guy might actually be dead!
She’d seen dead people before—when her great-uncle’s wife passed away, she’d seen her. The complexion was about the same as Wen Qi’s now, except Wen Qi was even paler.
Li Suian extended one little finger, trembling slightly, and brought it to the tip of his nose. Only after feeling a faint breath did she let out a sigh of relief.
Good, good, he’s still breathing.
She noticed a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. Maybe he’d passed out from pain somewhere in his body.
She initially wanted to call 120, but they were too far from the city. An ambulance would take over an hour to arrive, and another hour to reach the hospital. If it were an acute condition, he’d be gone before ever making it there.
After mulling it over, she decided to take him to the health center in town first.
Their village only had two pharmacies and a medical cooperative, but the doctors’ skill level was what it was—they could only treat colds and flu. The town health center was comparatively more reliable.
She first drove the three-wheeler home, didn’t even stop for a sip of water, then hurried over to one of her uncles’ houses to borrow a vehicle and ask for help.
Her three-wheeler’s battery probably wouldn’t make it to town. Her uncle had a gas-powered three-wheeler that was faster than hers, and besides, she couldn’t lift Wen Qi into the cargo bed by herself.
Uncle Li Zhijun was a warm-hearted man. After hearing the whole story, he rushed over to Wen Qi’s house with her without a moment’s delay.
They first lined the cargo bed with two quilts, then Li Suian and Li Zhijun worked together to lift Wen Qi onto the bed. Fortunately, Wen Qi was very thin and not heavy at all—otherwise, the two of them would have had a real struggle on their hands.
With the man loaded into the vehicle, Li Suian sped off toward town, driving as fast as she could, terrified that any delay on her part might cost the patient his treatment.
Wen Qi’s stomach felt as if it were being scorched by fire, with waves of sharp, cramping pain. His body was weak, his head spun, and he couldn’t even open his eyes, but he could still hear sounds.
It seemed there was a young girl chattering away beside his ear, and then the voice of a strange man followed. Shortly after, he was carried to a strange place—stuffy, with a smell of gasoline, and it seemed to be swaying slightly, with a buzzing sound in his ears.
He desperately wanted to wake up, but his body had a mind of its own, and his heavy eyelids simply wouldn’t lift. Amidst all the noise, he passed out again, though this time there was a bit more reassurance in his heart, even if he didn’t know where that sense of ease came from.