"If you are self-conscious, you should know that you can no longer wear prosthetic limbs in the short term." Otoya helped him treat the suppurating wound, bandaged it, packed the first aid kit and stood up.
Fu Lingzhi stared at the monster-like half of his left leg without saying a word, his fists tightening more than a little bit.
Otoya knew what he was thinking. He had always had very high demands on himself, which could be said to be harsh. Suddenly losing his calf, he was in a state of extreme decadence, restlessness and anxiety, both physically and mentally. The light shone in his eyes.
In the thicket of hair, he bent his neck so that the protruding bones were clearly visible.
Otoya quickly averted his eyes and walked into the kitchen. After a while, he brought out a cup of strong tea and placed it in front of him. "It will be better to drink some of this to clear your stomach."
He took it and moved his dry lips, but was speechless in the end. He was happy that she knew what he wanted in just one minute and a half of observation, but also sad that she always did her best for him quietly.
to everything.
She picked up the cotton-padded jacket and trousers he threw in the basket, turned to look at his tight-fitting long-sleeved football shorts, and frowned, "Are you don't have any other clothes? Although it's snowing in Zurich, it's not cold. You're wearing too much.
Already."
He looked at her in response, his eyes were dazed, the glass in his hand was tilted, and his voice was very low, "I came out in a hurry, it's cold in Beijing, I didn't think too much about it."
"Fu Xingzhi said he asked a Chinese doctor here to take care of you."
His body suddenly tensed up. Hearing her mention this, he felt sensitively that there was something behind her words. Anyway, he finally got into the house, so how could he easily leave the two of them again? The only reason is that he is now like a useless person and does not take care of her.
They, in turn, have to take care of themselves.
"That doctor has a lot of things at home, and I don't want to trouble him. Besides, I don't want the old man to know everything about his whereabouts every day."
Yinmi nodded, yes, Fu Xingzhi said that he had been causing trouble at home for several months, escaped and was captured again, and then escaped again. Although he escaped this time, he must have been penniless and as noble as him.
His health has not recovered yet, and he has become so thin. From the day I accidentally bumped into him in the alley until now, where has he been these days?
She was still sad when she looked at him, maybe it was just pity. Even so, she couldn't even say anything about driving him away.
After he drank a few sips of tea, Otoya gave him some appetizing light snacks to fill his stomach. After he finished eating, she got up, turned off the big chandelier in the living room, and walked to the stairs, "
Come here."
Fu Lingzhi froze, and his face couldn't be described as pretty. He didn't want to make her angry, but he really couldn't jump around on one foot in front of her. He had to try his best to cover up every bit of his ugliness and fragility.
Everyone could see it, except her.
Otoya looked at him indifferently, for a long time, and sighed deeply, "There are thirty stairs in total. You can't go up alone in your current condition. I have to go to work tomorrow."
Glancing at the green and black under her eyes, Fu Lingzhi couldn't stand it any longer, and slowly jumped to the stairs. She stretched out her hands, which were as white as jade, exquisite and delicate, and still warm to the touch.
Both of them lowered their heads and stared at the stairs. In this way, no one could see the other, and the thirty steps were quickly completed.
When he got to the room, he lay down, and Otoya walked out and closed the door. Two steps away was his room. She was standing on the corridor covered with camel-colored carpets, her expression unclear in the darkness.
She asked herself why, after so many years, she still got along so well and naturally with him, knowing each other's thoughts. She took care of him with such familiarity, it was like going back to the time when he had been stabbed eighteen times for her many years ago. Difficult days of recovery.
His temper seemed to have improved a lot. Otoya laughed and laughed lightly at himself. Who knows whether he lowered his posture in front of her and deliberately tolerated it or whether he had really changed.
By the way, why does she think so much? Because she used to be a doctor, she can't change the nature of a doctor. Doctors happen to be good at taking care of people. So the conclusion is that she thinks too much.
In the dream, he was huddled in a dark house with two holes on one side. Outside the hole, a pair of eyes stared at him.
His heart was so depressed that Fu Lingzhi took a deep breath and suddenly opened his eyes. The room was bright, with the cream-colored floor-to-ceiling curtains open to a crack, and outside the crack, there was white snow.
He turned around and wanted to get up, and then he realized why he had nightmares after not dreaming for a long time. His eyes were as black and bright as agate, and his eyes flashed. He must have been shocked by his sudden awakening.
"Good morning." Fu Lingzhi tried to be friendly, but he didn't know if there was a smile on his face.
Ru Ru stood by the bed, wearing crocheted doll shoes, fleshy short legs wrapped in thick trousers, a beautiful little cotton-padded jacket, and still two pigtails, looking at him so seriously, observing him.
Fu Lingzhi waited for her to speak, holding on to his body without moving.
"je ne t'aime pas." she said crisply in French without hesitation.
The reason why he knew it was French was because Fu Lingzhi always felt that French was like having countless saliva fighting with each other in the mouth, and it was chatty and thick.
He is not illiterate, but he hates foreign languages. The reason why he understands the meaning of this sentence can be traced back to when he and Ami first met many years ago. She took him to watch the French movie that was a sensation at the time. On the huge poster There was such a sentence. At that time, Ami pointed at this sentence excitedly and kept repeating it to him, forcing him to learn it. He also lied to him that it meant I love you. Later, by chance, he was at a small gathering. Because this sentence made a fool of myself, it left a particularly deep impression on me.
The little girl, who was just as tall as the head of the bed, said to him, "I don't like you."
The strange thing is that he is not angry at all. This is probably the most direct and truest of her thoughts. The little guy is still a little afraid of him, thinking that he does not understand, so he speaks freely in French.
Smart enough.
He squinted his eyes, looking as usual, but feeling a little distressed, "What then?"
"Mommy never talks about you. I asked her many times, and she never got angry when I bothered her. Then she hugged me tightly and never spoke. Your photo is under my bed. I put it You're called poker face, aren't you angry?"
He shook his head, savoring what she said, and raised his eyebrows, "So?"
"So actually I've known you for a long time." A childish voice like glutinous rice filled his increasingly hollow heart in an instant.