Simon felt that in these few words, he had been thoroughly arranged again, so he decided to resist a little, "Where is Great-Grandfather planning to go?"
Lu Xuefeng once again used the head-patting method to coax the child, "Nowhere, I'll be back tonight. I've made breakfast for you and put it on the table. You can go eat it yourself, okay? What do you want to eat?"
"Egg fried rice."
"How many eggs?"
"Two, with some chopped green onions and preserved sausage."
"Eating so much oil."
"It's delicious."
"Hmm." Great-Grandfather seemed to have perked up a bit, and his words became more frequent, his expression like Squidward playing the clarinet.
The next morning, or more accurately, at 4:30 AM, Simon was woken up by the need to urinate. After he finished, he felt his sleepiness recede, so he pulled open the curtains to look at the dawn. Outside, it was dark, and a cold mist enveloped the ground. Two orange-yellow car headlights shone directly on the main gate of the drying yard. Simon found his phone by the bed; it was 4:36 AM.
Had Great-Grandfather already left?
After the main gate confidently closed, Simon walked to the kitchen, rubbing his stomach. A chair was placed by the table. He jumped onto the back of the chair. From this height, he could overlook the dining table. On a warming tray, there was a large bowl of fried rice, with a rice spoon resting on the rim of the bowl. There was also a small bowl for easy serving. It seemed Great-Grandfather had made breakfast for a pig's appetite.
The kitchen stove still had residual warmth. Simon glanced at it; there were many cooking utensils on the stove, indicating more than just fried rice had been made.
So, Great-Grandfather was preparing food to share?
Yes, he also had friends. Although the agricultural area was sparsely populated, transportation was very convenient. It wasn't troublesome for neighbors a hundred miles apart to visit each other. Great-Grandfather was delivering delicious food to share. This was one of the beauties of the pastoral era.
However, since he wasn't here today, could I go look for the headphones?
Awesome!
...
It was January 27, 2082, the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, 8:11 AM. The outdoor temperature was minus ten degrees Celsius, and the humidity was ninety-eight percent.
Lu Xuefeng got off the bus. The other passengers were mostly elderly people; there were few young people and no middle-aged people at all. There was one child, who came with a family of three. The couple held the little girl's hands, looking incredibly happy, but it also inevitably reminded one of a pig slaughtering scene, with the little girl's arms pulled high, as if she were being dragged.
Lu Xuefeng stood to the side, watching this scene, and unconsciously smiled. Today he was wearing a crisp Chinese tunic suit (Zhongshan suit). This was a tradition left by his grandfather: wearing a Zhongshan suit, not a Western suit, for formality.
Holding a food box, he looked up at the main entrance of the building. The electronic signboard had orange-yellow Song typeface: Ping An Nursing Home.
He came to visit his old friends.
First, he went to the registration desk to confirm his visitor appointment. He was led in by a young Woman. Lu Xuefeng hadn't seen her before, but it wasn't important; university students often came here for practical experience, and staff turnover was quite high.
They walked through a four-season garden enclosed by glass walls. It was kept at a constant temperature and humidity, with a strong floral scent that made his nose itch. To be honest, he didn't like the smell, just as he didn't like the overall decor style here, especially the mosaic tiles around the entrance walls, which were very childish and had bizarre color schemes.
But he couldn't really complain about this place; he could only try his best to adapt.
In front of the low-rise elderly dormitory building, Lu Xuefeng saw his four old friends. Three of them were standing, and one was sitting, as if sunbathing. However, when they saw Lu Xuefeng, they all waved.
The old man in the wheelchair grumbled tremblingly, "This year, that, uh, hmm... This year, this year, arrived... late!"
Lu Xuefeng strode forward, gently hugged his old friend in the wheelchair, and then greeted them, "Manjing, Ajun, Old Kang, Fu Zai, all well, all well?"
One was a grandmother, three were grandfathers, and then there was Lu Xuefeng. They had been friends since the 1920s, and sixty years had passed, a full cycle of the Chinese calendar. In ancient times, this much time could outlive a dozen old men.
Ajun, supporting the wheelchair, looked the healthiest of them all, very steady. He spoke slowly, "You're here, that's good. We're not in a hurry."
Manjing was a hunched old Woman, her spine twisted into an almost right angle, always looking down. Lu Xuefeng squatted down and hugged her, and she slowly whispered in his ear, "Eat, delicious, porridge."
Lu Xuefeng gently replied, "Okay, porridge."
The caregivers led these elderly folks to the dining hall. Lu Xuefeng pushed the wheelchair, his posture resolute. He opened the food box on the plastic round dining table: three layers with twelve dishes, and a small bowl of thin rice porridge.
"Where's Hantou?" Lu Xuefeng looked around. Every time he came to share food with his old friends, the patient with dementia named Hantou would always come over to beg for food. He wasn't hungry; he was just craving it.
"He's at the hospital," Old Kang mumbled. His voice had a metallic, hoarsely hard quality.
"Oh."
Lu Xuefeng tilted his head slightly, savoring the thought.
"When, is, when... going?" Fu Zai in the wheelchair spoke indistinctly, drinking porridge, which was now dribbling from the corner of his mouth. A young female caregiver nearby hesitated a bit, because Fu Zai had a musty, sour smell, which most people wouldn't want to get close to. However, a middle-aged Woman comrade brought wet wipes and cleaned Fu Zai.
Lu Xuefeng wanted to help, but for some reason, he couldn't lift his hand.
The lighting in the dining hall was gentle and bright, and the faint smell of disinfectant and swill attested to its authenticity.
Everything was good, including the'Save Food' signs on every table.
The only downside was that it was too spacious.
...
Zheng Qilu and Simon ate in the living room without turning on the lights, so the exquisite dishes looked dull and gray.
"You go turn on the light," You Tou Guai commanded.
"You go."
"Children should be obedient."
"Adults should indulge children."
"Then we won't turn it on."
"If we don't turn it on, we don't turn it on."
A moment of silence.
Simon asked, "Where did Great-Grandfather go?"
"To the nursing home, probably. In a few years, you'll have to go there to see him too."
"Where is the nursing home?"
"South."
"Is it good there?"
"Of course, you don't have to worry about food or clothing, and there are shows every night. Otherwise, why would it be called a nursing home?"
Simon felt a little uneasy.
Will Great-Grandfather really have to go to a nursing home later?
...
A familiar caregiver greeted Lu Xuefeng, "Here to see your band again?"
Lu Xuefeng gave a restrained smile, his cold expression softening, "Yes."
"Your old man is getting on in years too, he should be preparing for retirement. It's good if he can go to the city, but if not, it's fine too. Coming here is the same." The caregiver recommended her workplace with a sense of pride, like a small desk lamp, shining a bit too brightly.
"Okay, sure. But it's..."
"I have something to do, C-section, bed 602. Let's chat later, bye-bye." The pager on the caregiver's waist vibrated. She straightened her back, bid farewell, and walked away, her flat shoes giving her the air of someone walking a runway. It made one almost forget that she was actually a robot.
"...Bye-bye." Lu Xuefeng lowered his hand and secretly spat.
-------------------------
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