sovbooks Chapter 229 Confucius Temple
Chapter 229 Confucius Temple
When Zhang Xuejuan pushed open the door, she was carrying two insulated bags, one red and one blue, both bulging.
She placed the insulated bag on the bedside table, unzipped it, and took out the lunchboxes one by one.
Pork rib soup, braised pork, stir-fried vegetables, and rice filled half the table.
Xiao Yunqing looked up from the exam paper, her eyes lighting up.
"Aunt Zhang, what delicious food did you make today?"
Zhang Xuejuan opened the lid, and steam rose up, filling the ward with the aroma of pork rib soup.
Xiao Yunqing sniffed, quickly closed the test paper, stuffed the pen into the pencil case, and stood up to wash her hands.
When he came back, he had a pair of chopsticks in his hand. He sat down on the edge of the bed, picked up a piece of pork rib, put it in his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and then squinted his eyes.
"tasty."
She picked up another piece, her cheeks bulging.
Zhang Xuejuan sat beside her, watching her eat, smiling. She took out a tissue from her pocket and reached out to wipe the soup off her lips.
"Eat slowly, no one's going to take it from you."
Xiao Yunqing smiled sheepishly, took the tissue to wipe herself, and then continued eating.
Song Huan leaned against the pillow, looking at the rice in her bowl, but she didn't have much of an appetite.
I picked up a piece of green vegetable with my chopsticks, chewed it twice, and swallowed it.
He picked up another bite with his chopsticks and then put them down.
Zhang Xuejuan looked at him.
"Why aren't you eating?"
Song Huan shook her head.
I'm not hungry.
Zhang Xuejuan picked up the bowl and handed it to him.
"Eat some more, this is the soup your mom made early this morning."
Song Huan took it, drank a sip of soup, and then put it down.
Before Zhang Xuejuan could say anything more, Xiao Yunqing reached out from the side and took the bowl of rice away.
She picked up a piece of braised pork and held it to Song Huan's lips.
Open your mouth.
"What?"
Song Huan was stunned for a moment, and Xiao Yunqing glared at him.
"Open your mouth!"
He opened his mouth and ate the meat.
She picked up another piece of pork rib and handed it to me.
"Open your mouth again!"
He ate it again.
She took another bite of vegetables, and he ate them.
She fed him a bite, he ate a bite, and the bowl of rice was quickly emptied.
Xiao Yunqing nodded in satisfaction, placed the empty bowl on the table, picked up her chopsticks, and continued eating.
"Aunt Zhang's cooking is so delicious, why aren't you eating?"
Zhang Xuejuan sat beside him, looking at Xiao Yunqing's serious face, and liked him more and more.
Xiao Yunqing picked up the soup bowl and placed it next to Song Huan.
"Have some more soup."
Song Huan obediently picked up the bowl, took two sips, and then put it down.
The midday sun shone through the window, casting a bright, dazzling light on the white sheets.
Xiao Yunqing wrote on the paper for a while, then started yawning. He would write one character, then yawn again.
Song Huan looked at her and said, "Go to sleep if you're tired."
Xiao Yunqing rubbed her eyes, put down her pen, stood up, walked to the empty hospital bed next to her, took off her shoes, lay down, and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
After a short while, his breathing became even.
Zhang Xuejuan drew the curtains halfway, then pulled open the curtain between the two of them, separating them between the two beds.
The curtains were blue, thin, and translucent.
She sat down beside Song Huan's bed and lowered her voice.
"Little Cloud is busy all day long, and it breaks my heart to see her like this."
Song Huan turned her head and glanced at the curtain.
Through the blue cloth, a blurry shadow could be seen, curled up and motionless.
"She comes every day, morning and night, more punctual than the nurses. I tell her to rest, but she won't listen."
Zhang Xuejuan pulled the blanket up to cover Song Huan's shoulders. "This girl is really good to you."
Song Huan didn't say anything.
The sunlight streaming through the window shone on the curtains, a soft, blue hue.
From behind the curtain came the sound of Xiao Yunqing turning over, the blankets rustling, then silence returned.
With 51 days left until the college entrance examination, Song Huan was finally able to be discharged from the hospital.
Xiao Yunqing ran around, handling procedures, settling accounts, and getting medicine, running from the first floor to the third floor and back again, her ponytail swinging behind her.
Song Huan sat by the hospital bed, her left hand still in a sling around her neck. She had changed into a clean set of clothes that Xiao Yunqing had brought from her home.
She ran back, panting, with a stack of papers in her hand.
"You can go now!"
Song Huan stood up and reached out to support his arm.
"No need to help me, my leg is really not lame."
Xiao Yunqing didn't let go, but helped him out of the ward, into the elevator, down to the first floor, through the lobby, and through the glass door.
The sunlight streaming in from outside made him squint.
He took a deep breath; the air smelled of grass, car exhaust, and roadside breakfast stalls.
After nearly two months in the hospital, the outside world seems unchanged, yet it also seems completely different.
The two stood at the hospital entrance, and Song Huan raised her hand to hail a taxi.
Xiao Yunqing tugged at his sleeve, "There's a Confucius Temple nearby, I've heard it's very efficacious, I want to go check it out."
Song Huan looked at her.
Her eyes were bright and expectant.
"What do you want to ask for?"
Xiao Yunqing turned her face away and looked across the street, "Please bless us to get into good universities."
My thoughts drifted over from her, gently, like the wind blowing through the leaves.
May he get into a good university.
May we both get into the same university.
Song Huan lowered her hand. "Let's go then."
The Confucius Temple is located on an old street with bluestone slabs and old-style brick walls on both sides, with vines climbing on the walls.
The temple is small, with two old trees at the entrance, their trunks so thick that it takes two people to encircle them.
Several sticks of incense were inserted into the incense burner, and wisps of smoke drifted upwards.
Xiao Yunqing walked in, stood in front of the main hall, faced the statue of Confucius inside, put his hands together, and closed his eyes.
She made a vow for a long time, her lips moving slightly, as if she were reciting something.
Song Huan stood beside her, watching her.
Sunlight streamed down from the eaves and shone on her face.
She opened her eyes, turned to look at him, and asked, "Why didn't you make a wish?"
Song Huan gave a wry smile, raised her right hand, and shook her left hand, which was hanging around her neck.
"I only have one right hand, how can you allow that?"
Xiao Yunqing thought for a moment, "Close your eyes, raise your hands, and sincerity will bring results."
Song Huan looked at her.
"what?"
"Just lift it up."
Song Huan sighed and raised his right hand, like a monk.
He closed his eyes.
I waited for a while.
He felt something touch his right hand.
It's warm and soft.
He opened his eyes.
Xiao Yunqing stood beside him, her left hand on his right, palm to palm, fingers interlocked.
She also had her eyes closed, her mouth moving slightly as if she were reciting something.
Her eyelashes were long and trembling slightly.
The sunlight shone on her face and on their hands, which were pressed together.
Song Huan looked at her hands; they were a size smaller than his, with slender fingers and neatly trimmed nails.
He didn't move.
She didn't move.
A gust of wind blew by, dispersing the smoke from the incense burner.
She opened her eyes, withdrew her hand, turned her face away, and looked at the statue of Confucius in the hall.
"It's agreed."
The sound was very soft.
Song Huan put her hand down and habitually put it in her pocket.
"What did you wish for?"
Xiao Yunqing didn't look at him. "It won't work if I say it."
She turned and walked out quickly, her ponytail swinging behind her.
Song Huan followed behind, her right hand still in her pocket.
Her warmth still lingered in my palm.
He had already heard her wish.
[We must be together forever, forever...together.]