Time Travel: My Comfortable Life After Going to the Countryside

Liu Xiangyang left Zhang Tiejun's house and headed west through the village.

The morning light was already bright, and he encountered several commune members carrying hoes to the fields, who all greeted him warmly. He addressed them respectfully, calling them "Inspector Liu" repeatedly, without stopping.

The door to the clinic was ajar.

He pushed open the door and was immediately hit by a strong smell of medicine mixed with a musty odor. Dr. Han was leaning against the headboard, his face even more ashen than yesterday, his eyelids drooping, only lifting them with difficulty when he heard the noise.

"master."

Liu Xiangyang sat down on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), took out two warm two-layer flatbreads from his pocket, each wrapped with a small piece of pickled vegetable. Without saying much, he broke the flatbreads into small pieces and handed them to Dr. Han.

Dr. Han didn't take it, but glanced at him and asked, "Is something wrong?"

Liu Xiangyang didn't hide anything and repeated what he had just said to Zhang Tiejun: The nomination and selection would be decided by Dr. Han.

After listening, Dr. Han remained silent for a long time.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on his withered hands, highlighting the prominent veins and the skin as dry and cracked as old tree bark. He looked down at the few pieces of bread and suddenly said softly, "Xiangyang, in my life, I've taught three apprentices."

Liu Xiangyang didn't reply, but listened quietly.

"The first one went to fight in the Korean War and died at Shangganling. The second one was starving in 1960 and ran away to Hong Kong, and we never heard from him again." Dr. Han paused, his cloudy eyes falling on Liu Xiangyang's face. "You are the third one."

He didn't say, "You're better than the previous two," nor did he say, "I didn't teach you anything." He just stared at Liu Xiangyang, as if trying to etch that face into his bones.

After a long while, Dr. Han looked away, slowly picked up a piece of cake, and took a bite.

It took me a long time to chew before I swallowed it.

"As for the selection," he said, "you can decide."

Liu Xiangyang's brow twitched slightly: "Master, this is the craft you passed down, it's your turn..."

"My eyesight is failing me." Dr. Han interrupted him, her voice low but weary. "You know better than I do which of those people in the village are suitable and which aren't."

He paused, took another bite of the biscuit, and chewed slowly: "What you ordered, I ordered."

Liu Xiangyang remained silent for a moment, then stopped refusing and said in a low voice, "Then I'll have Uncle Zhang recommend a few more young men to secure their positions first. We'll teach them gradually later, and how well they turn out will depend on their individual talents."

Dr. Han didn't respond; she simply finished the piece of biscuit in her hand.

Liu Xiangyang pushed the pickled vegetables toward him and got up to pour water.

The kettle was empty. He picked it up and shook it, then turned to go to the stove in the outer room to boil water. There were still embers in the stove, so he added two thin pieces of firewood, poked at them with tongs, and the flames slowly rose.

Before the water boiled, Dr. Han's low, hoarse voice came from the inner room:

"Towards the sun."

"Um."

"There's a blue cloth bundle in my cupboard. Take it out."

Liu Xiangyang put down the fire tongs and went back to the inner room. The old cabinet against the wall had a mottled paint finish. He pulled open the bottom shelf and found a blue and white floral cloth wrapped inside, its edges worn white.

He took the bundle out and placed it on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed).

Dr. Han didn't let him open it; she just pressed it with her hand, as if to confirm something.

"This is what I brought from my hometown when I first came to Dongsheng Village." He spoke slowly, as if recalling something. "There are a few old medical books inside, and some... random papers."

He stared at the bundle for a long time.

"Take it when I'm gone," he said. "Keep the useful parts, and burn the useless ones."

Liu Xiangyang looked at the faded blue cloth bundle on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) and replied, "Okay."

The water boiled. He went out, brought the kettle in, poured a bowl of water, and placed it where Dr. Han could reach it.

Dr. Han didn't say anything more, closed his eyes and leaned against the headboard, his breathing shallow and slow.

Liu Xiangyang sat by the kang for a while longer, then wrapped the two untouched cakes again with a cloth and placed them next to Dr. Han's pillow.

"Master, I'll come later."

Dr. Han didn't open his eyes, but his throat moved as if he were making an "hmm" sound.

Liu Xiangyang left the clinic and stood at the door.

The sun was already high in the sky, making one's back feel hot.

He squinted at the sky, paused, and instead of heading home, turned and headed towards the production team.

As Liu Xiangyang walked to the door of the production team office, he heard voices coming from inside.

Zhang Tiejun's pipe clattered loudly on the edge of the table. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a suppressed anger: "...So you mean I should tell Xiangyang that your son is just waiting for his position? Lixin, I can't say that."

Wang Lixin's voice was muffled: "I didn't ask you to say that. I meant that Dr. Han needs to choose a successor, and my son didn't even finish elementary school. He can't read a single word. How is he supposed to treat patients?"

"Your son doesn't want that patrolman position anymore?!" Zhang Tiejun's tone softened. "Then I'll swallow my pride and beg Dr. Han to teach your son!"

"Old Zhang, that's not what I meant." Wang Lixin paused for a moment.

Liu Xiangyang didn't rush inside; he stood at the door and lit a cigarette.

There was silence inside for a few seconds.

Wang Lixin spoke, his voice lower than before: "Old Zhang, I'm not trying to steal anyone's food. You know my family's situation. My eldest son is nineteen this year, and he's been on three or four blind dates. You know what he looks like. The girls all fell through after just one meeting. How would I know when Xiangyang will return to the city..."

He didn't finish speaking, and let out a heavy sigh.

"Since you just mentioned Dr. Han to me, I thought that since he has the status of a sanitation worker, I might as well settle this important matter of marriage."

Liu Xiangyang took a drag of his cigarette, stubbed it out on the sole of his shoe, and knocked on the doorframe.

"Uncle Zhang, Captain Wang."

The two turned their heads at the same time. Zhang Tiejun looked a little awkward, while Wang Lixin quickly turned his face away and rubbed the tip of his nose.

Liu Xiangyang seemed not to have heard anything, stepped into the room, pulled up a stool and sat down: "I've already spoken to my master."

Zhang Tiejun immediately picked up the conversation: "What did Dr. Han say?"

"He agreed." Liu Xiangyang said in a flat tone, "I told him to recommend a few more young people from the village to secure the titles first, and I would teach them later, and he agreed."

Wang Lixin turned his head and looked at Liu Xiangyang with a look of surprise and delight.

Liu Xiangyang didn't look at him, but spoke to Zhang Tiejun: "Uncle Zhang, you and the captain should discuss a few candidates first, and then give me a list. I'll take it to my master for a look, and it'll only be considered acceptable if he approves."

Zhang Tiejun nodded repeatedly: "Okay, okay, I'll discuss it with Lixin right away."

Liu Xiangyang didn't say anything more. He stood up, patted his pants, and said, "I'll go first. I have other things to do."

He walked to the door, and Wang Lixin suddenly spoke up from behind: "Xiang Yang."

Liu Xiangyang stopped and turned his face to the side.

Wang Lixin stood by the table, clutching the worn-out work cap in his hand, his knuckles white. His Adam's apple bobbed, and finally he managed to squeeze out only one sentence: "I'll give you the list tomorrow."

Liu Xiangyang nodded, didn't turn around, and stepped across the threshold.

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