Chapter 321: There’s Not Enough Time

“Showing off.”

Although they weren’t married yet, not even engaged, in Liu Anran’s heart, Liu Xie was already placed in the position of wife.

“I don’t think it’s a big deal.” The old man’s gaze still carried warmth.

“Anran, you’re just too clever, so clever that you come across as a bit cold. Having a partner like this is good for you.”

Liu Anran nodded. He agreed with that assessment quite a bit.

He and Liu Xie were a born match.

He walked to the foot of the bed and adjusted the incline that Liu Xie had set too steeply earlier.

He changed it to an angle that wasn’t quite lying flat, but didn’t require the old man to prop himself up and waste energy just to talk.

The old man looked out the window, at the tree outside, watching the dead leaves on it fall one after another.

Liu Anran naturally saw it too.

He recalled a story, one the Dean had told them—those kids no one wanted.

It was also a story set in a hospital.

The person telling it was a withered old Lao Deng who’d fallen severely ill.

Almost everyone thought he was beyond saving, just waiting in the hospital for Black and White Impermanence to come collect him.

Originally, the story should’ve had the Death god coming for him, but the Dean seemed to be fairly patriotic.

Then that man lay on the bed watching the leaves outside, thinking that when the leaves on the tree turned from green to yellow and then withered and fell, he should die.

Whether it was giving himself hope, or giving himself a countdown to bid farewell to the world.

During the day-after-day process of waiting to die, the man discovered that one particular leaf never fell.

Instead, it kept its green appearance all the way into the following spring, and the man’s illness miraculously recovered.

Later, the truth was revealed: that leaf on the tree had been painted and hung there by someone, hung very low.

He didn’t say how high it was hung, because he was afraid that after he finished telling the story, some kid would try to replicate the scene.

The meaning of the story was that when facing difficulties in life, one must maintain a positive and optimistic attitude to get through tough times.

But unfortunately, the more people understood this kind of principle, the more ineffective it became.

Just like how comedians who perform too much are more prone to depression.

Not to mention the Dean, who had told this story as a bedtime story countless times.

“Terminal illness, huh. I initially thought things like this were far away from ordinary folks like us.” The old man suddenly sighed.

Liu Anran was briefly silent.

“Seems like, time is running out.” The old man leaned against the pillow, his graying hair slightly disheveled.

“Indeed, time is running out.” Liu Anran nodded slightly.

He turned to look out the window. A few kids were kicking the tree, shaking nearly all the dead leaves off it.

“If the cancer had come earlier, it might not have had the chance to take root in your body. But this cancer needed twenty years to develop.” Liu Anran added the second half of the sentence.

“But I’m already over eighty now.” A smile suddenly appeared on the old man’s face. “It came too late. It wasn’t the right time.”

“You’re seventy-nine this year.” Liu Anran corrected him.

“Can’t remember, can’t remember. That number doesn’t mean much anyway. Being able to see you settle down and start a family, I can rest easy.” He said with a chuckle.

“Then you go out to do farm work in the middle of winter, without eating anything, and you plan to eat after you finish the work? If you start working at noon, you’d be having dinner by the time you’re done. You’re seventy-nine now, not twenty-nine.” Liu Anran frowned, nagging on and on.

“The doctor said I should also pay attention to exercising regularly.”

“Flipping the entire field shouldn’t count as exercise. That should count as manual labor.” Liu Anran picked up an apple from the fruit basket they’d brought, seemingly about to peel one for the old man.

“Anran.” The Dean suddenly grabbed Liu Anran’s hand. “You need to treat her well.”

Liu Anran naturally knew what the Dean meant, and he also knew who the Dean was talking about.

“You’ve said that many times already.” Liu Anran put down the apple and held the Dean’s hand back. “She’s very important to me. I’ll definitely treat her well—better than I treat myself.”

At that moment, Liu Anran seemed to suddenly realize something and turned to look at the empty seat.

Liu Xie had been in the bathroom for a bit too long.

He looked up at the Dean on the bed, and saw the old man nod and wave his hand, as if shooing him away.

But he knew the Dean was just telling him to cherish Liu Xie, just like what he’d said earlier.

“I’ll go check on her. I’ll be back in a bit.” Liu Anran stood up.

After only two steps, he turned back and picked up the small fruit knife that had been placed on the nightstand alongside the apple, as if afraid that if he let his guard down for even a second, the old man would pull some kind of stunt.

Still being in the hospital made it convenient, actually.

Liu Anran left, pushing open the ward door, then gently closing it behind him before looking at the hospital corridor.

Clean and tidy, people hurrying past, everyone seeming to have their own business to attend to.

It was a bit like some kind of strategy game that was nearly impossible to blend into.

But unlike the chaos over at the outpatient area, it was more like a paradise—everyone carrying a sense of tranquility.

Over at the outpatient side, there would occasionally be a startled cry or two, but here, there was a unique peace and calm.

Of course, it could also be because the people in the inpatient department had a fairly good understanding of their own conditions.

Maybe they had already accepted their fate.

It felt a bit pessimistic and disrespectful to say that, but if Liu Xie were here, she would definitely blurt out such a rude remark first, then suddenly realize she shouldn’t have said it.

So, where was Liu Xie right now?

Liu Anran chose to just call her directly. He personally never liked those melodramatic plotlines, especially when it came to Liu Xie.

“Hello?”

“Moshi moshi?” Liu Xie’s voice came from the other end of the phone.

Liu Anran looked down both ends of the corridor. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m at the hospital entrance.” Liu Xie answered truthfully.

“Weren’t you going to the bathroom? How did you end up at the hospital entrance?” Liu Anran said, but his feet were already moving, heading toward the main entrance of the hospital.

Passing through the inpatient department and the outpatient hall, Liu Anran spotted Liu Xie crouching by the flower bed near the hospital entrance.

“What are you doing here?”

As he spoke, Liu Anran also crouched down beside Liu Xie, his backside facing the flowers that were blooming even in winter, real or not.