I open my eyes and there is no doubt that this is a woman's room. No matter how life is going, women always like to put small baubles in their room. There is no doubt that this is a girl's room because although it is poor, it has a quiet and lonely taste. The most exquisite thing in this room is a photo frame, in which is a young officer with Lieutenant rank. It's hard to say what his characteristics are, because we all kept that rigid and ostentatious posture when taking photos. He even looks a bit like my past, and you can hardly find any more content in such photos except in the prime of one's youth.
I begin to observe the girl who is busy around my thighs. She is the girl I intentionally missed out when I took off my pants and started speak eloquently. She is so young that you may even think that such a girl won't grow up or age. She dips cotton in alcohol and carefully wipes around my wound. She doesn't have the courage to let the alcohol touch my wound — I notice that I am lying on her bed and my pants are taken off again.
When I finally have no patience to endure that kind of caution, I speak up, "Save your mind. Even if you touch that wound, it won't hurt."
She lets out an "ah" sound, so startled that she pours the alcohol from the bottle onto my wound without any waste. This panics her and she begins to feel very embarrassed, afraid of hurting me and trying to wipe off the alcohol.
"It's so cool", I say.
She is startled — she is so startled like a small animal, "It must hurt you, it must hurt you."
I comfort her — almost to the point of showing off, "I can't feel the wound. If it hurts, it just explodes from inside, like an explosion."
When she's in a hurry, she probably doesn't listen to people very much. "I'm a stupid crab with eight legs, and none of them grow in the right place. My elder brother told me so."
She speaks with a strong Sichuan accent, but it sounds much better than Yaoma's. I have to give a heavy pat to my wound, which makes me a bit in a trace myself. But she lets out another scream, so I don't think it is a big deal anymore. I boast, "I'm not afraid of pain. I just consider it as a wound on Jap's body."
She begins to exclaim, "You're really awesome! When I bandaged my brother, he just cursed once I touched him. If he were to be as strong as you, the Japanese would have run away long ago and we'll go back to Sichuan. I'll tell him when he comes back."
When she mentions another man, it reminds me of how disheveled I am. I grab my pants which were taken off and cover them on my legs, struggling to get out of bed.
"What are you doing?"
"Find your brother. Thank him for helping me in."
"I brought you in."
I look at her and she is definitely not the kind of person with great strength. In fact, she is so small that I feel a bit bulky standing in front of her. I scratch my head and feel embarrassed. "There's no need to bother... Actually, I just lay down for a while and then I can get up."
"You're not very heavy."
That's doubly embarrassing. I decide to give up on this topic due to my embarrassment. I quickly bandage my still naked wound so I can put on my pants in front of such a guy at least. She also joins in to help. Her help is very clumsy, a bit reckless, and when she follows my suit, she occasionally exclaims, "So it's like this", "You're really smart" and so on.
I try to digress further and say, "What are you coming from Sichuan to the Yunnan border for?"
"No one wants to come. Just run around with my brother. Parents died early, and there's no one in my hometown. So I go with the Sichuan regiment. My brother will find a place outside the encampments to settle down for me. He's also a Lieutenant, and his company commander died last year. He's the company commander officer now. He's in charge of many people."
I don't care what she's saying. I'm more concerned about wrapping up the wound quickly so that I can put on my pants. She is a young woman who makes you want to get close, but also wants to hide. I don't like to get too close to such a person and also feel embarrassed without wearing pants.
"At the beginning of this year, my brother went to war. Some troops of their division have returned, but I haven't seen anyone from the Sichuan regiment."
I quickly deal with the wound, even if it is a bit careless, and I try to avoid the next topic as much as possible.
"Can you do me a favor?"
I stop and hang my hand on the last knot of the bandage. I know what she wants to do. I don't want to help her.
But I look up with my sunny face, "I must thank you. Of course I'll help you."
She urgently and cleverly makes her request, which is childish. "I've been waiting for over a year. I've been waiting for my brother. Can you help me find him? You're also a Lieutenant and you're in charge of many people too."
"Of course I can."
"So what can I do for you?"
I am stunned for a moment, "... what?"
The girl has a childish expression on her face as if she wants to make a promise to others, and then makes such a worldly declaration: "We are all very poor now, we can't help others for free. Give something to me, you won't have it. We need to exchange."
I have to smile bitterly and say, "Such reasonable words... Did the elders tell you?"
She doesn't respond to my ridicule, "So, we need to use something to exchange for."
I can't bear my harshness. That thing always comes up like a boil, "For what? What do you have? Like... sulfonamide?"
She immediately begins to turn everything in the house topsy-turvy, feeling a bit lost as she looks at the few medicine bottles that have been found out. "What is sulfonamide?"
I flip through those medicine bottles and begin to mock my initial delusion, "These can cure a cold... But what I want is sulfonamide, a powerful anti-inflammatory drug."
"The pharmacy is not far away, I'll go see if it's there."
She's really driving me crazy, and I say, "Don't go —"
But I stop because she starts rummaging through the cans she had placed in the cabinet, and she takes out a small amount of money from there, obviously preparing to buy medicine for me. There should be more contents in the jar. So I stop talking.
She thinks I am feeling a bit lost and she comforts me, saying, "It's okay. It's not that far away."
I lower my head and look at my wound which is bandaged like getting scratched by a dog, "Well, that's helpful."
She has already planned to go out without delay, and life is a different rhythm and color for her. "I'll use that to exchange." she points a bundle of noodles on the table for me, feeling a bit ashamed. "I only have that one left."
I look at it once and then stop looking at it. "Even if I were crawling, I would help you find him." I lower my head and don't want to look at the satisfied smile that comes out of her anymore. I look at the ankles that move lightly in my view, and when the curtain lifted, I can't help but look up. "What should I call you?"
I am just seeing a smile half outside the door curtain — I want to kill myself.
"Zui, My surname is Chen."
"Which 'Zui'? The one means 'best'?"
Zui is a bit annoyed, "The one means 'drunk'!"
She is obviously not satisfied with such a name, but that has submerged beyond the lowered curtain. I listen as she walks away, staring blankly at my own wound.
There can't be sulfa on the counter of any pharmacy. They were robbed by wounded soldiers in the first place, and those drugs would only appear on the black market, accompanied by a price she would never pay for me. And the entire Sichuan regiment has already been wiped out, so I don't have to crawl to find it. Yaoma is the only residue left by the Sichuan regiment.
I am no longer in a daze and quickly put on my pants. I open the cabinet and pour the Bankai and banknotes from the jar into my pocket, and then I grab the bundle of noodles and quickly flee. I walk through the yard and see several chickens pecking. In starving Chanda, they are really rare. I want to even steal one from them, but I find that it's impossible to catch up with them.
I give up. I get out. Quit while the getting's good if being a thief. I remember the name Zui. But what's the use of that?
I escape from the scene at the maximum speed that a lame person could reach, escaping from this alley, with scattered noodles falling behind me. I swear, I want to die. I just want to die with two complete legs.