Chapter 19: Arriving in Jinling

Ye Dali stood outside the gate of the compound, smoked a cigarette, then pulled out all the test results he had collected from the hospital and gave them a look.

"Mr. Ye Dali, Ye Qinghe's condition is truly one in a million — it has enormous research value. If you can persuade Ye Qinghe to join our project, I can promise that all future examinations at our hospital will be charged at cost only, hospitalisation will be free of charge, and on top of that we will provide a monthly stipend of ten thousand yuan."

"He is already recovering under his current conditions. If we can determine the reason, then a full return to health — living just like a normal person — is not out of the question!"

"Even if you won't think about yourself, you have to think about Ye Qinghe!"

"Do you really want to watch him lie in bed like this for the rest of his life? Can you bear that?!"

"He's only nineteen years old! He still has a whole life ahead of him — he can't be stuck like this forever because of one immature decision!"

The specialist's words echoed relentlessly in Ye Dali's heart. They were well-reasoned, touching him both emotionally and logically. He didn't want Ye Qinghe to remain this way forever either.

But Ye Qinghe was unwilling — that much he had known for a long time.

"I'll talk to him again."

Ye Dali drew the last drag of his cigarette deep into his lungs, exhaled hard, dropped the butt at his feet, ground it out with the tip of his shoe, then picked up his folding electric scooter and walked back home.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside. The room was pitch dark — Ye Qinghe was already asleep.

Ye Dali moved with light, careful steps, doing his best not to make a sound and disturb Ye Qinghe.

He lit up his phone screen, quietly unfolded the sofa bed, laid out the bedding, then went to Ye Qinghe's side to check on him — cleaning him up, wiping him down, and changing his adult diaper.

When everything was done, he lowered his head and looked at the sleeping Ye Qinghe. That familiar ache of tenderness welled up in his chest again.

It's all Dad's fault for being useless.

If Dad had worked harder back then, pushed himself more, earned more money — would there have been enough to take you abroad for treatment?

You've already recovered one finger, which means your body is capable of healing. If we had gone overseas early enough, would things have turned out differently for you?

The more he looked at Ye Qinghe, the more his heart ached.

Pressing a hand over his mouth to keep himself from crying out, Ye Dali hurried back to his sofa bed and lay down. Only then did his mood ease a little.

They were leaving for Jinling on Tuesday. The high-speed rail tickets were for noon sharp. Ye Dali had taken a few days off from his team leader, though he still went to help his fellow villager with the morning work — he just came back half an hour earlier than usual, returning at nine o'clock.

"Qinghe, you up?"

After a whole night of thinking it over, Ye Dali decided there was no rush to bring up the test results and the specialist's proposal with Ye Qinghe. It could wait until after they returned from Jinling.

Let Ye Qinghe enjoy the show recording first.

"All set for the recording?"

Ye Qinghe, who had been studying the question bank, turned his head to the side. "Don't worry. I'm planning to Stand Till the End and take home the three-episode defending champion prize!"

"That's the spirit! Then let's go and take that three-episode defending champion prize!"

Ye Dali had watched a bit of the show during his spare moments over the past few days and knew what the three-episode defending champion reward entailed. He didn't really think Ye Qinghe could pull it off, but this was not the moment for discouraging words.

After breakfast, Ye Dali cleaned Ye Qinghe up, gave him his massage, dressed him in a fresh and smart outfit, lifted him into the wheelchair, then gathered all the supplies they had prepared in advance and headed out — taking the bus, transferring to the subway, and finally arriving at the high-speed rail station.

By the time they reached the station it was already past eleven-thirty, and boarding had begun almost as soon as they entered the waiting hall.

The production team had booked them second-class seats — a two-seat arrangement in seats D and F. Whoever had made the booking had clearly forgotten about Ye Qinghe's condition: the seats were in the middle of the carriage, fine for Ye Dali but impossible for Ye Qinghe.

Ye Dali found a train attendant, who helped arrange a swap with another passenger for a spot at the end of the carriage, where Ye Qinghe's wheelchair could be parked in the luggage space.

Worried that Ye Qinghe would get bored, Ye Dali took out his phone, switched it to an audiobook, and put the earphones on Ye Qinghe so he would have something to listen to.

Not wanting too many people staring at him, Ye Qinghe asked Ye Dali to turn his wheelchair to face the carriage wall.

Along the way, a few passengers noticed Ye Qinghe's situation and tried to strike up a conversation, but Ye Dali had no desire to discuss Ye Qinghe's condition with strangers and brushed off the prying questions with a vague word or two.

The direct express from Jingcheng to Jinling was the fastest service — three and a half hours later, Ye Qinghe and Ye Dali had arrived in Jinling.

The production team turned out to be quite considerate: they had actually sent someone to meet them on the platform, holding up a large sign.

Ye Dali and Ye Qinghe.

In fact, the moment Ye Qinghe and Ye Dali stepped off the train, the staff member recognised them immediately.

Ye Qinghe's condition made him hard to miss.

"You must be Mr. Ye Dali and Mr. Ye Qinghe? I'm here from the production team — just call me Little Sun!"

Little Sun stepped forward at once to take Ye Dali's luggage, then moved to help push Ye Qinghe's wheelchair. Ye Dali waved him off and insisted on pushing Ye Qinghe himself.

"So here's the plan — we have a car outside. We'll take you to the hotel first so you can check in. After that, I'll bring you both to dinner, and once we're done eating, I'll take you over to our studio to meet the director and have a look at the set, so you can get a basic feel for how the show is filmed. Does that work for you?"

Little Sun walked alongside them as they headed for the exit, talking as he went.

Even so, he couldn't help stealing glances at Ye Qinghe every so often.

Is he really fully paralysed?

Ye Qinghe had a blanket draped over him, so his body wasn't visible. As for the face above it, he looked more or less like any normal person — the only thing that left a strong impression was that Ye Qinghe did carry a certain fragile quality, the kind that made people instinctively want to look after him.

"No problem at all — we'll follow whatever the production team has arranged!"

Out of the station, down into the underground car park, into the vehicle.

Little Sun had known about Ye Qinghe's condition in advance and had brought one of the production team's minivans — the middle row of seats had been removed so Ye Qinghe could ride inside while remaining in his wheelchair.

"Have either of you been to Jinling before?"

Once Ye Qinghe was settled, Little Sun started the engine and pulled out.

"We came once for medical treatment!"

Over the past three years — especially the first year — Ye Dali had taken Ye Qinghe to many places, and Jinling had been one of them.

"Ah, I see!"

Little Sun nodded and fell into conversation with Ye Dali.

Ye Qinghe sat quietly in the van without joining in. The scenery outside the window looked much the same as any other city. Still, in a sense this was his first time here — in his previous life he had passed through a few times but never actually visited.

"That's our TV station over there, and the hotel is right next to it!"