Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

The radiator in the ward would click every now and then.

He Yuzhu sat on the wooden chair beside the bed. The chair legs wobbled, and he had to brace himself with his feet to keep it steady. The old leader lay on the hospital bed, his face even thinner than three days ago. His cheekbones protruded, his eye sockets were sunken, and several patches of dead skin were sticking up to his lips, some already peeling off, others still clinging to them.

Several medicine bottles, white and green, were on the bedside table, along with half a glass of cold water. A piece of undissolved medicine was submerged in the water, sinking to the bottom of the glass.

Outside the window stood a withered tree, its bare branches swaying in the wind, tapping against the glass. It was getting dark, and the lights inside were off, casting a dim, grayish glow.

He Yuzhu reached out and touched his old leader's forehead. It was hot, but not the kind of hot that comes from a fever; it was a weak, sweaty heat.

The old leader opened his eyes, saw it was him, and his lips twitched.

"You're here?"

The sound was so rough, like sandpaper rubbing against wood, that it was hard to hear and you had to guess.

He Yuzhu nodded.

"How are you feeling?"

The old leader didn't answer, but stared at him for a few seconds.

"How's things going on your end?"

He Yuzhu was taken aback. Asking about work at a time like this?

"good."

The old leader nodded and closed his eyes. After a long while, he spoke again.

"He won't die."

He reached out and patted He Yuzhu's hand. The hand was so thin it was just skin and bones, with veins bulging out. The pat didn't feel very forceful, but He Yuzhu felt it was heavy.

He Yuzhu stood up and walked to the window.

The streetlights downstairs had just come on, illuminating a figure. The person was dressed in dark clothing, standing under the lamppost, head bowed, their face obscured.

He stared at the figure for a few seconds.

The man turned and left, disappearing into the alley.

He took a deep breath and brought up the system interface.

Turn to the medical section.

[Cell Repair Agent (Disguised Version)]

[Function: Repairs damaged cells and accelerates tissue regeneration]

[Appearance: Colorless and odorless liquid, can be disguised as ordinary tea leaves]

[Points consumed: 100,000]

My finger hovers over the redemption button.

500,000 points. Not much.

But this isn't about points.

That warning was still swirling in my mind—"Exposure is annihilation."

He turned around and looked at the person on the bed.

Cheekbones, eye sockets, chapped lips.

He remembered that year at Chosin Reservoir. While lying in the snow waiting for the bugle call to charge, the comrade next to him had the same face. Gaunt and emaciated, with sunken eyes and cracked lips. The man said something before he died, but he couldn't remember what it said, only that face.

That comrade never came back.

He climbed out of the snow all by himself.

He Yuzhu turned around and clicked "redeem".

He held a small, transparent bottle, slightly thicker than a finger. He put it in his pocket, turned, and walked back to the bedside.

There was an empty tea canister on the bedside table. He opened it and poured the colorless liquid from the bottle into it, not a drop left.

Then I poured a cup of hot water from the thermos, put the tea leaves in, and started brewing.

The tea color slowly seeped out, turning into a pale yellow.

He stood by the bed, holding a cup.

"Boss, have some water."

The old leader opened his eyes.

He Yuzhu handed the cup over.

"Please try this local tea from my hometown."

The old leader took the cup, took a sip, and smacked his lips.

"good."

He slowly finished the cup of tea and handed it back to him.

He Yuzhu took it and put it back on the bedside table.

The old leader lay down and closed his eyes.

Before long, her breathing became steady, and she fell asleep.

He Yuzhu sat on the edge of the bed, without moving.

The radiator clicked again.

Ten minutes later, the old leader's expression changed. The grayish substance faded from his face, and a little color returned to his cheekbones.

Twenty minutes later, the dead skin on my lips wasn't so dry anymore; some of it was peeling off, but the skin underneath was soft.

Thirty minutes later, the old leader turned over and muttered something under his breath.

He Yuzhu leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

It became.

But he didn't relax.

When the nurse came in, she was carrying a tray. She walked to the bedside, picked up the patient's medical record, and then stopped.

She glanced at the old leader's face, then at the records on the bedside table, and then at He Yuzhu.

"This isn't right."

She flipped through the records, making a rustling sound.

"My blood pressure is 20 degrees higher than yesterday, my heart rate is stable, and my body temperature has dropped..."

She looked up and stared at He Yuzhu.

"What did you give him to drink just now?"

He Yuzhu stood up.

"Local tea brought from my hometown."

"Local tea?"

The nurse's gaze changed. From doubt to scrutiny, and then from scrutiny to something else.

"Do you still have any tea?"

He Yuzhu shook his head.

"Just that little bit."

The nurse didn't ask any more questions, but her gaze lingered on his face for a long time. She lowered her head to continue taking his blood pressure, and after finishing, she glanced at him again.

The door wasn't closed properly. Through the crack in the door, He Yuzhu saw her talking to another nurse in the corridor, glancing this way as she spoke.

He sat on the edge of the bed, without moving.

After a long time, there was no movement in the corridor.

He stood up, walked to the door, and glanced outside.

It was empty, with only the smell of disinfectant.

Three days later, the former leader was discharged from the hospital.

He Yuzhu went to pick him up. The two came out of the hospital gate; the sun was shining brightly, warming them. The old leader stood at the door, took a deep breath, and said nothing.

He turned around and looked at He Yuzhu.

"I'll remember that tea."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

The old leader patted him on the shoulder and left.

When I got back to the office, it was already dark.

As soon as He Yuzhu sat down, he saw the letters on the table. The envelopes were made of kraft paper and had no signature, only his name.

He opened the first envelope. A single sheet of paper, a single line of text.

Thank you. I'll remember it.

The second letter.

"Heroes emerge from among the young."

The third letter.

I will express my gratitude in person when I have the opportunity.

The fourth letter.

"Do a good job."

The fifth letter.

His hand paused for a moment. The envelopes were made of the same kraft paper, but the glue at the seal wasn't applied neatly, and a small piece was curled up at the edge.

He opened it and pulled out the paper inside.

There is only one line of text.

He recognized the handwriting.

It's not the kind of recognition you have when you know someone, it's the kind of recognition that's etched into your mind. The strokes are straight and precise, each one so forceful it tears the paper.

"I understand about the Battle of Chosin Reservoir. Thank you."

He Yuzhu stared at the line of words, motionless.

Changjin Lake.

Snow. Bugle call. My comrade beside me.

He looked down at the scar on his hand. It was a shrapnel wound, left from the Battle of Chosin Reservoir that year.

The gloves were still on his hands.

He put the letters away and placed them at the bottom of the drawer. He paused for a moment as he closed the drawer.

The moon is very bright outside the window.

A streetlamp downstairs cast a shadow of a person standing under the lamppost, head bowed.

He stared at the figure for a few seconds.

The man turned and left, disappearing into the alley.