Chapter 1357: There are 8 words in the world, but only the word love hurts the most

Chapter 1357: There are 8 words in the world, but only the word love hurts the most

The poplar trees are turning green, and Beijing in April is filled with the flourishing spirit of spring.

But the four people in the car did not seem to be in any mood to appreciate it.

The car drove out of Yanjing City and headed east.

The scene outside the car window slowly receded like an old film.

The red brick walls of the state-owned factories, the faded signs of the supply and marketing cooperatives, and the women wearing headscarves and riding 28-inch bicycles, all eventually turned into a barren yellow field.

Li Xiangnan's palms were full of sweat as he held the diagnosis.

Dingxiang didn't say anything, nor did she let them tell their family.

But she couldn't just do this.

After all, Pang Weinong and the Ding family have different identities and relationships.

Wei Nong is still young, and even Li Xiangnan thinks that Ding Xiang was right to do that.

But Dingxiang's family had no idea what the truth was.

\"I'll talk to you later!" Wang Defa turned back from the co-pilot seat.

Li Xiangnan didn't respond. He stared at the wheat fields outside the car window. The wheat seedlings in April were just as tall as ankles, and the tender green ears were shaking in the spring breeze.

This reminded him of the letter Pang Weinong wrote to him: "Brother Xiangnan, the rice in Lijia Village always grows very well, but I heard that wheat is grown around Yanjing. The flour ground from it is fine and refined, and it is especially delicious when made into steamed buns! I have been eating naan since I was a child, and one day I hope I will have the opportunity to eat steamed buns made from wheat in Yanjing!"

It turned out that when the boy wrote to me in the past two years, he had already hinted at it in his words.

But he never thought that the young man who was even a little shy when being with him had already developed feelings for Dingxiang, and that the spark of love was nurtured in the beautiful scenery of Lijia Village.

He remembered that Pang Weinong was the last batch of educated youth from Lijiacun Brigade to return to the city.

I'm afraid this guy could have returned to the city a long time ago, but he didn't want to go ahead of Dingxiang and wanted to stay with her in Lijia Village for a while longer.

Because once both of them left Lijia Village, they could only communicate through letters, and even meeting each other would be a luxury.

"give it to me!"

Lin Chuqiao's voice suddenly came from the side.

Li Xiangnan turned his head and saw that the diagnosis placed on his knees had been taken away by the other party.

"I'm a female comrade. Ding Xiang told me about her family situation, so I'm quite familiar with it! Let me tell you!" Lin Chuqiao solemnly spread the document on her knees with both hands, and emphasized: "Even if Ding Xiang knows... she won't blame me!"

Song Zimo glanced at the back seat in the rearview mirror and sighed silently.

After two hours of bumpy ride on the dirt road, the car finally drove into the convoy that the people had inquired about.

They got off the car at the entrance of the village. The back of Li Xiangnan's dacron shirt was already stained with sweat. He took off his coat and led the three people around in circles, asking and looking for the way, walking on the cow dung road hardened by the sun, and stopped in front of an adobe house.

The fence was crooked, a few patched clothes were hanging in the yard, and the wind chimes hanging under the eaves were actually made from enamel pot lids.

Several people looked at each other.

Father Ding was chopping wood in the yard. When the axe fell, the wood chips stuck to his gray temples.

Hearing the footsteps, the old man straightened up and the hemp rope tied around his waist swayed.

\"Comrade, who are you looking for?\"

His eyes were like the old well behind the house, so deep that one could not see the bottom.

Li Xiangnan's throat twitched twice, and he suddenly remembered Ding Xiang's description of his father: "My father always had a pipe inserted diagonally in his upper left pocket..."

\"Uncle, we are Dingxiang's classmates.\"

Seeing the old man's coat pocket, Li Xiangnan knew that he was Dingxiang's father. He took out a pack of Daqianmen cigarettes from his bag, pushed open the gate and walked in.

"Classmate?" Father Ding was stunned and looked at the three people behind him. As if he realized something, his dark face suddenly turned pale.

I'm afraid that in his mind, his daughter's classmate found his home while his daughter was not there, and subconsciously he didn't think this was a good thing.

Ding's mother came out from behind the house, carrying a hoe covered with fresh mud on her shoulders.

"Please come in and sit down!" Father Ding said, pushing his taciturn wife to the kitchen. "It's noon, go and prepare some food for our daughter's classmates!"

When his wife left and Li Xiangnan and the other three were sitting in the bare main room, Father Ding looked at the kitchen and asked, "Comrade, has something happened to my... my daughter? You... you are here... to tell me, right?"

Li Xiangnan, Wang Defa and Song Zimo looked at each other, and none of them had the courage to look him in the eye.

"Uncle!" Lin Chuqiao stood up and handed over the diagnosis in her hand, "This is Dingxiang's diagnosis. She is sick and is now hospitalized in Nianwei Hospital..."

When she said the four words "Nianwei Hospital", the pipe in Ding's father's hand paused for a moment.

In the refreshing weather of April, beads of sweat the size of beans kept rolling down Ding's father's forehead and cheeks onto his chest and the ground.

He could only recognize a few words, but did not want to trouble others, so he struggled to identify all the information he could understand, trying to figure out his daughter's condition.

"Fatty, Xiao Song, go out and smoke a cigarette!" Li Xiangnan couldn't bear to see this scene and nodded to Lin Chuqiao.

Three cigarettes were burning outside the house, and there were whispered explanations inside the house.

On the way back to Yanjing, Ding's mother kept holding the envelope containing the diagnosis, her knuckles turning blue and white.

Father Ding kept mumbling to himself: "It's my fault. I can't make money, and my family is so poor. How can I afford to let my daughter... "

"Old man, no more words, no more words!" Mother Ding kept crying and pressing his trembling hands on his knees.

The carriage remained silent until dusk.

The smell of hospital disinfectant is so pungent that it fills people's noses.

When Dingxiang woke up from her sleep, her stiff throat was blocked again.

When Ding's mother put the thermos on the bedside table, her hands were shaking so much that she almost knocked it over. "Xiang'er, look what I brought you."

She opened the lid, and the aroma of pickles mixed with the smell of medicine filled the ward.

Dingxiang struggled to get up, and the IV tube left bruises on the back of her hand, which was so thin that it was just skin and bones.

Li Xiangnan leaned against the wall in the corridor and heard Ding's father whisper in the Tongxian dialect: "My daughter, your parents are here."

He felt for the half-pack of Daqianmen cigarettes left in his pocket and went to the end of the corridor to smoke.

Among Li Jianshe, Li Tuanjie, Wang Ergou and Pang Weinong, the people with whom he has the best relationship, it is Weinong who writes to him the most, at least one letter every month. He always asks some strange questions that he cannot answer.

For example, is the ice in Shichahai thicker than that in Tianshan Mountains in winter?

For example, is the water in the Summer Palace really cooler than the Yixiang River in summer?

For example, Liubiju's pickles are the best in Yanjing, but are they really better than Lao Li's pickles? He doesn't believe it.

Li Xiangnan didn't know why his head was full of these questions.

But now...

He understood.

He should have invited that kid to visit Yanjing a long time ago!

"It's like seeing you in person..."

How did Pang Wenong comfort himself from homesickness through those letters over the past few years?

Li Xiangnan really wanted to ask him.

There are eighty thousand words in the world, but only the word love hurts people the most!

When he saw those words, could he really see the woman who was grinning foolishly behind those words?

The clock on the nurses' desk jumped to 19:00, and the night shift nurse began her ward rounds. The window at the end of the corridor reflected the direction of Yixiang in the twilight.

Dingxiang fell into a coma at midnight.

When Li Xiangnan was helping to push the emergency bed, he saw Ding's mother quietly stuff a wrinkled handkerchief under her daughter's pillow - it contained the last few plum candies brought from Tong County.

When the electrocardiogram was as chaotic as a piece of scribbled straw paper, Ding's father was tucking his daughter's quilt with his rough thumb. The old farmer who had been farming for forty years suddenly said: "Xiang'er loves to look at the fruit candies in the glass jars of the supply and marketing cooperative. It turns out that..."

It turns out that these things were her only comfort during her difficult years in Lijia Village Brigade!

After three days of continuous rescue, Li Xiangnan finally came out of the operating room.

Ding's father and mother were kneeling at the door waiting, and when they saw him come out, their eyes were as if they were looking at him in awe of a god.

"You have to wait two hours before you can go in and see her!"

"Ai!"

The old couple hurriedly thanked them.

Li Xiangnan looked at the late night at the end of the corridor, and remembered Dingxiang's eyes that suddenly lit up when she saw her parents in the ward - the light dimmed again after she saw the white hair on their temples.

In mid-April, a sandstorm hit Yanjing for the first time ever. Standing at the hospital entrance, Li Xiangnan looked up at the sky with bitter eyes.

The wind and sand blinded him, and he felt the remaining candy wrapper in his pocket - it was the one that Dingxiang had stuffed into his pocket when he woke up last night.

She said that if she died, she should tell him when she saw Wei Nong one day in the future.

She loved him.

Looking at the flying dust, Li Xiangnan murmured: "Weinong, Yanjing and Yixiang finally have some similarities! Is its wind and sand like the Gobi Desert..."

The sobbing wind swallowed up his words.

But Li Xiangnan seemed to hear a response suddenly. He turned his head to look at the hospital entrance, and his whole body was shocked.

Amid the flying dust, a thin figure pushed through the dust curtain and rushed over with big strides.

"Weinong?"