It was a night in early March when Chen Xinan came home from work. It was eleven o'clock at night, and there was a cold, fishy rain and snow. The shops on both sides of the street were closed, and no one could be seen on the road. He rode his bike just turned into a hutong, rushed to the face of a van.
The road was narrow and the other car was fast. Fortunately, he jumped out of the car at the critical moment, but also shook his hand forward a handlebar. The bike was rolled into the bottom of the car, the van was forced to stop.
However, before he climbed up, he saw the van down two men. In the blinding headlights, could not see each other's appearance. But he saw a watermelon knife. Half an arm's length of blade in the rain trembling, buzzing.
Chen Xinan's first reaction was robbery, threw down his backpack and ran. Behind the two in hot pursuit, while chasing also shouted: 'small B son, you give my mother to life!'
Just look at the face did not recognise, this gong voice let him remember - is the son of the dead patient!
Feelings this is not robbing money, this is medical trouble ah. Chen Xinan ran faster, simply played the highest level of life. When he thought of his university physical test, a thousand metres was only four and a half minutes, but today this speed can definitely enter the three points.
Unfortunately, human potential is not infinite, track and field, after all, he is not professional. Seeing that he was going to be caught up, he finally saw a light. It was a single hot pot city with two strings of lanterns hanging in front of the entrance. Under the imposing dragon's head relief were embedded three large crimson characters: Shu Jiuxiang.
He ran all the way towards the hot pot city, panicked, and ran into a dark shadow in the car park. There was a scream of pain in his ear: 'Hey I f*ck...'
Not being able to apologise, he rushed up the steps in three or two steps. Before he stepped into the shop door, there was a bellowing voice behind him: 'What the f*ck!!!'
This sound of rebuke exploded like thunder, reverberating in the empty streets. Chen Xinan turned his head and saw a man walk out of the shadows of the car park.
Less than one metre eight in height, with an aura of less than two metres eight. Combed three seven back hair, wearing a black. The upper body of cotton and linen disc button shirt, the lower body of casual nine-minute trousers. Clip a black handbag under the armpit, feet on a pair of horsebit buckle shoes. Wearing a pair of tea crystal glasses, with a short moustache of yuppie. He has a banditish look mixed with a noble spirit, like a Republican overlord plucked from the silver screen.
However, at this moment, the overlord's footsteps were a bit hobbled. Holding on to his back, he shook his hand at the two doctors as if he was a puppy: "Go, go, go! Roll away to play elsewhere!!!"
With this fling, Chen Xinan noticed that his hands were full of things. His wrists were tied with strings of Bodhi seeds, and his fingers wore rings. Under the dim streetlight they were bright and shiny, like he was holding a strobe light.
'You're pretty f*ck*ng awesome, aren't you?' The kid with the watermelon knife pooh-poohed and raised the knife to point it in front of the overlord's nose, 'Don't say I'll even chop you up if I'm in a f*ck*ng hurry!'
Before this threat landed, he saw the Overlord take an arrow step forward and grabbed the other party's knife-wielding wrist. With a forceful outward twist, the watermelon knife fell to the ground.
He kicked away the watermelon knife with his front foot and kicked his opponent's knee with his back foot. At this time, the big man behind him swung a steel pipe and smashed up, he dodged to the side and disliked his opponent's nose with an elbow. The whole set of movements was swift and precise, like a wolf pouncing on a man, more like a snake probing.
This was a fierce, absolutely crushing beating. The Overlord's moves were extremely ferocious, kicking people not like kicking a ball, but jumping up and stomping. A jump can be three feet high, if there is a basket in front of you, I think you can also have a hanging arm dunk. What makes Chen Xinan marvellous is that the bag under his armpit actually did not throw the whole process. Out of the right hand when clip left, out of the left hand when clip right. This hand grabbed the bag easy to throw, the hand slightly raised a steady clip. From a distance, it looks like a juggling act while beating someone up.
Just now or copied the guy, the majestic two men, this moment was beaten like two big pile of sh*t roll, curled up on the ground holding his head and begging for mercy. The one with the watermelon knife even cried out, 'Living father...you're a living father...don't fight...don't fight...'
The tyrant heard him call for his father and really stopped fighting. Pushing the glasses towards the place where the knife fell, his mouth sang like an opera emotion: 'Oops ~ toad jumped off the cliff you hard to pretend Batman ~ no steel you pretend which kind of B?'
When he walked to the knife, he stepped on his toes and picked it up, and then used the back of his foot to turn it upside down. The watermelon knife fell steadily into his palm like a magic weapon.
"Hey! Do you want this knife?" He looked towards Chen Xinan and asked with a bright voice, "If you want to report it, I'll give it to you. If you don't report it, I won't take it away."
He spoke in a ballast voice, with a bit of bravado. But the tone was long and impish. This combination, quite a bit of the old sitcom 'Northeast Family' theme song of that flavour, nostalgic tight.
Chen Xinan was still in shock, unconsciously shaking his head, 'I want to report it.'
The watermelon knife was thrown onto the steps with a clang.
He was dragged back to his senses by this crunching sound, and took two steps down to bend down and pick up the knife. The snowy blade trembled, reflecting his startled face and a slanting black shadow. Ghostly, he looked up.
The warm yellow streetlight was streaked with small ice crystals. Glittering with a fine golden light, like scattered fireworks. The overlord at the bottom of the steps, half-extracting his glasses, was looking over the top of the lenses and smiling at him.
Like looking into Medusa's snake eyes, Chen Xinan was instantly deterred.
What a pair of seductive eyes those were! Bursting with blazing light, like the desert noon sun. Through the chaotic night, it shot straight into his pupils. Passing through his retina, they burned like an iron on his cerebral cortex. As his heartbeat intersected with the sound of the rain, it was as if he saw twelve specific areas of his brain's neural network being lit up by this beam of light at the same time.
That's when he saw the Overlord angrily snap, "Button up your coat! You're freezing!"
His face burned and he hurriedly looked down to pull on his hoodie. His hands, which were usually as steady as a chicken's head, were shaking so much that he couldn't even get the zip right. While he was fumbling, a gust of wind swept past his ears. A man jogged by his side, holding a black umbrella. Wearing a long khaki trench coat, the hem of his coat whirled into the rain.
The trench coat stopped beside the Overlord and tilted the umbrella over his head, 'I saw you fighting with someone on the first floor, is there anything wrong?'
Hegemonist gestured towards Chen Xinan's side: 'Just now, I was hit by a calf, and my backside knocked on the car's buttocks.'
The trench coat glanced this way. Chen Xinan didn't get a good look at his face, and only saw the light refracted by the gold-rimmed glasses. It shifted like a cluster of arrows, zapping him with an awkward blush.
'No big deal.' The Overlord tugged Trenchcoat's arm towards the bottom of the steps, 'I'll walk you back.'
The trenchcoat, in turn, went to glean the Overlord's handbag, "Give me your keys then. I'll drive, you get in the back seat and lie down for a while."
The two of them talked and together they hid into the shadows of the car park.
Silence returned to the surroundings. The only thing left is the blushing Chen Xinan, lying humming the two gangsters, and in the light of the cold light, the half-arm long watermelon knife.
From that day onwards, Chen Xinan went to Shu Jiuxiang to eat hot pot as soon as he was free. But until he ate his arse off, he didn't see that black-clad bully again.
Generally speaking, it was unlikely that an extracerebral doctor would be crazy about love, let alone fall in love at first sight.
Because they know too much about the nature of people. The most beautiful face, once the skull is lifted, it's still a puddle. Even the strongest commitment, once the ICU is in place, it will go up in smoke.
It's just that the iron tree doesn't bloom easily, and when it does, it's half a metre high. To put it in a more elegant way, it is "only because of the feeling of the gentleman a review, make me think of the gentleman day and night". In short, this time Chen Na Lisa not only fell in love at first sight, but also seemed to have lovesickness.
In the operating theatre and laboratory, he was highly concentrated and could still resist. However as long as he was slightly off guard, the black-clothed overlord would quickly take over his thoughts like an electric current.
He began to lose sleep. Every time he woke up from a shallow dream, it was as if stone slabs were pressed against his chest. When he couldn't sleep at night, he always fantasised about taking a pipe and poking it violently into his chest cavity, pumping out a little bit of the demon in his heart.
But it's no use. No use at all. His mind was haunted by others as always.
Who was he? What's his name? What does he do? Where to go to meet him again?
Thinking about it so much, the memories and visions were getting mushy. So much so that he'd recently begun to wonder if the glimpse he'd had that night was just a high-definition dream. Could it be that his mind was just a stage on which only endless delusions could ever be played out?
And right now, seeing this lost and found destiny in front of him, he was almost knocked out by the great surprise.
Though the place of this reunion was not what he had expected. And I'm afraid he wouldn't have recognised it if he hadn't been thinking so hard about it - it was just too much of a mess.
Without his tea-crystal glasses, his head was wrapped like a football. His face was pale, and dried plasma was still stuck to his cheeks.
Chen Xinan peeled back his eyelids and found that the right pupil was dilated. This indicated that the brain tissue on the right side had been pressed downwards by the blood clot, and the nerves responsible for the pupil function were out of control as a result. He tucked back his torch and clattered through the report card. Eyeballs quickly bounced from left to right, but his mouth was nonchalant: "When was it injured? What's the name?"
The bald guy standing by the bed replied, 'Five o'clock, I think, five or six.' This bald head is also bruised and swollen, looks like it has not been beaten up. There was a standard slap mark on his scalp.
Chen Xinan glanced at his watch, 'When did you faint?'
"It started out fine. Just wrapped up at Arashan Hospital." Bald two hands in the brain back and forth scratching, talking a little upside down, "Before the package all of a sudden collapsed. They said they couldn't fix it, and asked us to transfer to another hospital. They didn't have a car, so we drove here ourselves. On the road originally woke up, d*mn primary school entrance all speed bumps, upside down on a little bit of vomit, not to the hospital and confused..."
bald head nagging kung fu, Chen Xinan finally found the man's name from the bill: Duan Lixuan.
He looked at the name for two seconds and lifted his face from the slip, 'Are you a member of his family?'
'I'm his...he's my big brother.' The bald man said and then added solemnly, 'The closest big brother.'
Wang formidable is tying his fingertips to measure blood sugar, heard this and bared a sentence, "Big brother little brother, ask if you can do the main signature! Can not hurry to call his family!"
Speaking of family members, bald bottom air and weak: "He ... family members are far away. Can't come over for a while."
Chen Xinan had already put on new gloves at this time and started to remove the gauze from Duan Lixuan's head.
Duan Lixuan's head was covered in half-coagulated blood, and his hair had already been stuck into pieces. Chen Xinan could only tear it apart piece by piece like beef jerky to view it. Fresh blood continued to ooze out, smashing bloody flowers on the gurney and wanging into a puddle on the ground.
The bald man was holding Duan Lixuan's neck, crying, 'Doctor, the blood is dripping... why is it still dripping... be gentle, be gentle!'
Chen Xinan had never seen such a wound before.
The scalp was full of lacerations, densely packed, as if they had been made by some kind of hook. The shorter ones were half a centimetre, one centimetre. The longer ones were two centimetres, three centimetres. Another was ten centimetres long, the edges stuffed with sludge and glass, the ivory-coloured skull clearly visible.
He stopped and looked at the bald man with a suspicious look. His face was white, like a shaved plaster. The eyes were dark again, like toner for sketching. This extreme contrast of light and dark made him look exceptionally scary. It was like a slow-release frame in a black and white silent horror movie.