She sewed a knee pad for Yan hope out of cotton and wrapped it around his leg. They always walked for a long time, stepping through the snow, as if they had reached the end of the world before they could go home.
Yan Xi's scarf was accidentally knocked off during the acupuncture treatment, and Dr. Wei saw her. The kind-looking old man seemed to have been greatly deceived, stopped the acupuncture midway, and said, "You can go now."
Aheng and Yanxi were both dumbfounded. They hadn't expected the old man to lose his temper so badly.
The old man said, "I will no longer treat you, you filthy liars!"
Ah Heng's lips were dry as she tried to explain, "We just can't do anything about it. Yan Xi's leg just won't get better. Even though I'm a doctor, I haven't been able to help his leg. Can you imagine the pain of watching your loved one get sick and being powerless to do anything about it?"
Dr. Wei seemed to have been touched by something, and he was furious. "Get out! All of you, get out!"
Tears streamed down Aheng's face like beads. She choked back sobs. "Why? Yanxi's leg was almost healed. You knew perfectly well that if we gave up halfway, his muscles would die faster, and we'd have to amputate his leg. How could you be so heartless?"
Dr. Wei closed the door and said, "Get out. I don't want to see either of you again."
Yan hope stood silently to the side. He leaned against the wall, watching Aheng cry.
Sweat still clung to his forehead from the acupuncture, but he suddenly smiled and said, "Don't cry, Aheng."
Ah Heng squatted on the ground, her hair on her forehead disheveled, tears streaming down her face, saying that it had been so difficult.
Yan hope walked to her side, supporting himself against the wall, and wiped away the tears on her little face. He said, "Why are you crying? Get up. Don't cry. Let's go home."
Ah Heng cried uncontrollably, saying, "I can't go on anymore, Yan hope, I'm so tired, really, so tired."
He said, "Stand up, Wen Heng, or I'll slap you."
Ah Heng looked at him, her red eyes filled with tears, and said, "Yan hope, I'm tired."
Yan hope squatted on the ground, his back slightly tilted—"Come on, I'll carry you home."
Ah Heng continued to cry, saying, "Your leg still isn't..."
He snapped, "Wen Heng, you fucking get up here! Even if my leg's crippled or amputated, I'm still carrying my wife home today! Hurry up!!!"
Ah Heng hesitated and took a step back.
Yan hope didn't say a word. He held Aheng's hand with one hand and put his other arm around Aheng's waist as he stood up.
He walked with a limp, his back hunched, and with each step he gritted his teeth, a thick layer of sweat covered his forehead.
He said, "From now on, I will draw pictures for you and our children every day, and then open an art gallery to exhibit only pictures of you, okay, baby, don't cry."
He said, "Although I can't carry you into the wedding hall, I dare say that in this world, only I dare to marry you."
Ah Heng asked why.
He laughed and said, "Who will marry you? I'll kill him."
He said, "You always want to hear me say I like you, but baby, how else do you plan to make me like you even more than I do now?"