One Night, One day, One year, One lifetime

Chapter 7

I am someone cowardly and afraid of death. This was something I freely admitted. I had always been timid – even during preschool, when the other children snatched my things, though I was indignant, I did not dare to protest. When they made a racket during nap time and then made me their scapegoat, still, I remained silent, accepting my fate to be their sacrificial lamb.

Meeting Gao Fei, then pursuing him, was the only time I had been courageous in my life. I was courageous to the extent of being unscrupulous, abandoning all sense of rationality and propriety.

After I married Gao Fei, I counted with my fingers each day I spent with him.

That I refused treatment did not mean that I was unafraid of death. On the contrary, I was extremely fearful. I was afraid of the consequences if treatment failed, or if things took a turn for the worse on the operating table, or when my hair started to fall in clumps during chemotherapy and I became hideous to look at.

I did not dare to gamble. I was afraid to use the last of my days with Gao Fei as the gambling chip.

But at this moment, I wished with the whole of my heart that I would die now. At least, my death would force Gao Fei to remember that there had once a person who had traded her life for his. A debt that was owed using another person’s life was something that he would never be able to forget for the rest of his life.

But my consciousness was extremely stubborn, and my body, obstinate.

So, sometimes, the instincts of our body were laughable.

When I opened my eyes, it was afternoon, and the sun shone brightly in the skies. I did not know what day it was, and as I glanced out of the window, I could see a few sparrows dancing merrily on the window sill. I shifted, trying to take a closer look, but and sharp stabs of pain moved up my spine. The nurses who were preparing to conduct some tests on me soon discovered me and quickly summoned for the doctor.

The doctor entered, Gao Fei following closely behind him.

‘You are very fortunate, but at the same time, very unlucky.’

I nodded. To survive a traffic accident was a miracle for a person already diagnosed with a terminal illness like myself. Except, what was misfortunate was that the remaining days of my lifespan, already so fleeting, was going to be shortened even further.

The doctor conducted some examinations on me and recorded his observations within a booklet.

He asked, ‘Do you have a principal doctor?’

I nodded. But my doctor was not really considered a principal doctor, for I only went there to collect my medication.

‘Leave me their contact details later.’ As the doctor said these words, he glanced at Gao Fei. ‘Your husband does not have their contact information. We will be contacting your principal doctor.’

The doctor and the nurse left. Within the hospital room, only Gao Fei and I remained.

I did not know how many days it had been since I had fallen unconscious, but Gao Fei was still wearing the clothes he had worn on Qingming Festival. They were crumpled, his sleeves creased.

He stared at me, faint traces of blood visible within his eyes.

I wanted to say something, but I did not know what to say, and how to say them. A thousand different forms of helplessness overwhelmed me, so I remained silent.

When the nurse came to change my medicine, I told her I was hungry, and that I wanted to eat some red date porridge, and the porridge had to be thick. I deliberately mentioned that I was a picky eater.