On Chinese New Year’s Eve, after making all the necessary arrangements at the fire station, Ren Yi drove to the hospital to pick up his father.
When he arrived, he explained his purpose to the receptionist and headed straight for the ward. He had been here so many times that he knew the way by heart.
Halfway there, he suddenly bumped into someone. It was Dr. Peng, who had received him several times before.
“Captain Ren?” Dr. Peng looked somewhat hurried. “Didn’t you say on the phone that you wouldn’t arrive until four or five?”
“Oh, I finished up earlier than expected, so I came ahead of time. I was worried there’d be traffic if I left too late.”
“Why don’t you sit down for a while? The nurse may be cleaning up the old captain right now.”
“During the day?”
“I think so.” Dr. Peng glanced at his watch. “You should only have to wait a little.”
“Okay. I’ll use the restroom first.”
“Turn left at the end of the corridor.”
After using the restroom, Ren Yi pushed open the door and stepped out.
There was a window at the end of the corridor, overlooking the parking lot below. As he passed it, he casually glanced outside to see whether he could spot his own car. But a figure crossing the parking lot caught his attention. The person’s silhouette looked strangely familiar.
Ren Yi stopped and looked more carefully. The hospital wasn’t very tall, and with his excellent 20/10 vision, he immediately recognized the man when he turned to open his car door.
It was Dr. Pompey, Gong Yingxian’s psychologist.
What was he doing here?
Then again, Gong Yingxian had invested in this hospital, so it wasn’t particularly strange for Dr. Pompey to show up.
Ren Yi didn’t think much more of it and turned toward his father’s ward.
Just as he arrived, a nurse came out of the room.
“Miss, are you finished cleaning him up?” Ren Yi asked.
“All done. You can go in.”
Ren Yi pushed open the door and entered.
Ren Xiangrong was sitting in a chair, basking in the sun. At the sound, he turned his head, looking surprised.
“Why are you here?”
“It’s Chinese New Year’s Eve. I’m here to take you to the fire station to celebrate.” Ren Yi smiled wryly to himself. They had only spoken on the phone yesterday, yet his father had already forgotten.
“Oh, it’s New Year already? How did it come around so quickly? The years just fly by.”
“There are lots of firefighters’ families visiting the station this year. It’ll be lively.” Ren Yi began gathering his father’s personal belongings.
“New Year…” Ren Xiangrong murmured. “Where’s your mother? Did she go out to buy groceries?”
“…Yeah.”
Ren Yi collected his father’s things and wheeled him out of the ward.
Dr. Peng promptly came over with two male care assistants. “Captain Ren, let us handle this. We’ll get the old captain into the car.”
“Thank you. You’ve all worked hard taking care of him these past few months.” Ren Yi shook Dr. Peng’s hand. Leaving his father here had brought him so much peace of mind and spared him so much worry.
“It’s our job. You enjoy the New Year, and come back whenever you like afterward. There will always be someone here.”
“Okay. Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year.”
Throughout the drive, Ren Xiangrong sat silently, gazing out the window.
When his father’s condition flared up, he could display all kinds of behavior. Sometimes he was hysterical, sometimes exuberantly happy, sometimes sorrowful and bewildered, and sometimes, like now, quiet and withdrawn. Ren Yi had grown accustomed to it.
In a lighthearted tone, he asked, “Old Ren, how have you been lately?”
Ren Xiangrong didn’t answer.
“Look at you. You’ve been in the hospital for months, and they’ve been feeding you so well that you’re all plump and rosy. I’m not so lucky. No matter how good the cafeteria food is, eating it every day gets old.”
Ren Xiangrong turned to him and asked earnestly, “What kind of dumplings is your mother making today?”
“There’ll definitely be chive and cabbage dumplings. You don’t like chives, and I don’t like cabbage. Maybe she’ll add some mantis shrimp this year.”
“What’s mantis shrimp?”
“Uh, little shrimp.”
“Oh. Then we should buy them from Sister Wu—no, from her son, Xiao Wu. A widowed mother and her son already have a hard enough time making ends meet, and now she’s sick too. We should support her business more often.”
Ren Yi froze.
When his father’s condition flared up, his memories could jump unpredictably from one period to another. It was common for him to think he was still in school. But there was one year he never returned to in his memories: nineteen years ago.
That was because nineteen years ago had been the most agonizing year of his father’s life. In the span of a single night, he lost four fellow firefighters. He himself was buried beneath the rubble for eight days and seven nights, narrowly escaping death.
Whether it was some kind of psychological self-protection mechanism or not, his father’s memories never went back to that year.
Yet the things he had just said were all from nineteen years ago.
Sister Wu had been a vendor at a local market, making a living selling dried seafood. Xiao Wu was her son and one of Ren Yi’s childhood playmates. Nineteen years ago, Sister Wu had suddenly fallen ill and been hospitalized. Xiao Wu, who was still in middle school, had dropped out to take over her stall.
Normally, Ren Yi wouldn’t have remembered another family’s affairs so vividly. But that year had also been the most agonizing year for his own family, and so many things had happened that they had all left a deep impression on him.
Ren Yi glanced at his father. “Dad, how’s your leg? Is it getting any better?”
His father had injured his leg in the Baosheng Chemical Plant explosion, laying the groundwork for the mobility problems he suffered in old age. Ren Yi wanted to know whether his father’s memories had jumped to a time before or after the explosion.
It was a cruel memory. When lucid, his father could recall it calmly. But if, in his current state of mind, the explosion had happened only recently, reliving it could have a serious emotional impact on him.
“Ah, things can never go back to the way they were,” Ren Xiangrong sighed.
Ren Yi’s heart sank. He immediately became cautious. “You’ll get better. The doctors all say you will.”
“No, I won’t.” Ren Xiangrong’s voice was full of sorrow. “Some wounds never heal. Just like when someone dies, they can never come back.”
Looking at his father’s grief, Ren Yi felt miserable too.
Some time ago, he really had felt an overwhelming urge to confide in someone. The only person who could truly understand what he was going through, and who was closest to him, was his own father. But in the end, he hadn’t dared to do it. He didn’t want to worry his father, nor did he want to make him dwell too much on the pain of losing his comrades all those years ago.
And yet, his father had returned to that very year on his own.
Seeing traffic begin to build up ahead, Ren Yi rummaged through his father’s bag and took out an eye mask.
“Dad, recline your seat and get some sleep.”
Usually, after a nap, his father’s mental state would shift to a different period.
Ren Xiangrong seemed genuinely tired. He reclined his seat, put on the eye mask, and soon fell asleep.
Only when he heard his father’s steady snores did Ren Yi finally relax. There was no need to hurry back to the station, so he drove slowly and smoothly.
By the time they returned to the fire station, it was nearly dark. Several firefighters came over to help transfer his father into a wheelchair. Only then did Ren Xiangrong wake up, looking around the station in confusion.
“Uncle Ren.” Qu Yangbo came over and bent down with a smile. “Was the trip tiring? Are you hungry?”
Ren Xiangrong studied him for a moment before suddenly recognizing him. “Oh! Xiao Qu!”
“That’s right. It’s me.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.” Ren Xiangrong smiled. “How’s your father? I heard he had surgery a while back.”
“It was a minor operation. He’s doing fine. You look pretty good yourself.”
“I’m all right. Have you gotten married yet?”
Qu Yangbo grinned mischievously. “Ren Yi hasn’t gotten married, so there’s no rush for me.”
“Get lost! Why bring up the one thing nobody wants to talk about?” Ren Yi joked. “Dad, don’t listen to him. This guy’s all sweet talk. Who knows how many girlfriends he’s gone through?”
“Don’t you dare slander my good name!” Qu Yangbo protested.
Ren Xiangrong chuckled.
Qu Yangbo helped Ren Yi push the wheelchair. “You really do look good, Uncle Ren. Sihuo told me you’ve even put on weight.”
“Yeah, I’ve gained eight jin. The hospital food is good.”
Ren Yi laughed. “A little weight is fine, as long as you’re not over the limit. You’re at the perfect weight now.”
“Hey, why have we come to the fire station…” Ren Xiangrong looked at the dormitory building and shook his head in frustration. “My brain’s getting worse by the day.”
“Who says that? The doctors say the treatment is working and your memory is better than before.”
“Maybe. Anyway, they always have me play games and do handicrafts. I think I’ve gotten better at those things than I used to be.”
“Why don’t you get a few of the other patients together for mahjong?” Qu Yangbo suggested. “Playing mahjong gets your fingers moving. It’s especially good for the brain.”
“They have mahjong there. I’m learning.”
The fire station was bustling with activity. Some firefighters had gone home for the New Year, but many others had family members who had traveled from out of town to celebrate together at the station.
The moment they stepped into the building, they were greeted by the aroma of food and the sound of laughter and cheerful conversation filling the halls.
Ren Yi wheeled his father into the reception room, where everyone immediately gave him a warm welcome. Ren Xiangrong was excited too. It had been a long time since he had received so much affection and admiration from a crowd.
Dozens of people enjoyed a lively New Year’s Eve dinner together before gathering around the television to watch the Spring Festival Gala.
After ten o’clock, Ren Xiangrong was visibly getting sleepy.
“Old Ren, why don’t you go rest in my dorm room for a while? We’ll have dumplings later tonight. I’ll bring you some, all right?”
“Sounds good.”
Several people worked together to lift Ren Xiangrong into Ren Yi’s dorm room.
Ren Yi tucked him in, then poured him a glass of water. “Have some water first.”
Ren Xiangrong took a sip. “It’s lively here, but a little tiring.”
“You haven’t seen this many people in a long time, have you? It’s fine. Get some rest. If you want company, there’ll always be people around.” Ren Yi massaged his father’s legs.
“Good. Dr. Pompey said I should interact with more people. The livelier, the better.”
“Dr. Peng?” Ren Yi asked casually. “Did Dr. Peng get his doctorate?”
“Not Peng. Pompey. A doctor from overseas, mixed-race.”
Ren Yi was surprised. “Dr. Pompey? You’ve met him?”
“Isn’t he a doctor?”
“But he isn’t your attending physician.” Ren Yi found this strange. When Gong Yingxian had initially arranged his father’s medical team, Dr. Pompey certainly hadn’t been included. Alzheimer’s disease was caused by pathological changes in the nervous system, and a psychologist’s role in its treatment was limited. So why was Dr. Pompey involved in his father’s care? Ren Yi certainly hadn’t known anything about it.
“There are several doctors. I get confused.” Ren Xiangrong said, “Anyway, he’s come to talk to me a few times.”
“Did he talk to you today too?”
“Today…” Ren Xiangrong hesitated. “I’ve forgotten. Did he come today?”
“What does he talk to you about?”
“He said he wanted to help me recall memories that had left a deep impression on me. That would help stimulate my memory nerves and keep them active.”
Ren Yi was full of doubts. There didn’t seem to be any reason for Dr. Pompey to be involved in his father’s treatment. Perhaps it was for research purposes? But hospitals usually informed family members beforehand.
“So, what did you talk about?”
Ren Xiangrong sighed. “He keeps asking me about those two cases involving the Gong family from nineteen years ago.”
Ren Yi’s hand stopped moving.
Gong Yingxian had once told him that they might try using memory regression techniques on his father to see whether he could recall any details about the fire back then. Ren Yi had agreed, provided it wouldn’t harm his father.
But those memories were hardly pleasant. If they were going to conduct memory regression, they should have informed him. After all, they had consulted him about every previous treatment plan.
“If you don’t like it, you can refuse next time,” Ren Yi said. “I know you don’t really want to revisit those memories. You’ve already told me everything you can remember.”
“Maybe. But the questions he asks always make me feel like there’s still a lot I haven’t remembered.”
“Like what?”
“For example… something about a mask or a face covering. He even showed me a strange-looking mask.”
Ren Yi stiffened. “He asked you about… a mask?”
“Yes. I really don’t remember anything about a mask. Was it mentioned in the newspapers back then? How did he know about it? Anyway, I feel like I’ve had several dreams, and they were so vivid they seemed real. It was as though I’d actually returned to the fire scene back then. Ah…”
Ren Yi’s expression grew darker by the second.
Dreams.
Gong Yingxian had once told him that deep hypnosis felt like having an incredibly realistic dream. After waking, a person might repeatedly recall what had happened during the hypnosis, become confused about what was real, and find themselves in a daze.
Could it be…
No. Impossible. How could Dr. Pompey have subjected his father to deep hypnosis without his permission? That was illegal! They had discussed every step of his father’s treatment with him and had him sign the consent forms…
Sign.
A chill swept through Ren Yi’s body. His face instantly drained of color.