Death secret


Jiang Xiaodu didn’t really succumb to fate until the day before his third surgery. Before dark that day, he struggled in the delirium of a high fever in the last ray of the setting sun on the window sill, and the great net was woven into a roll, then a ball, then a beast pen, and it burned like a raging fire. roast him. And he is just a spider crawling on a large web, or a smaller and weaker creature, jumping and dodging, with nowhere to hide, and finally changing from fear and avoidance of death to accepting and expecting death, until exhausted. syncope.

Fate is actually very easy to make a person submit, those who did not submit just didn’t have the time to make him submit. Jiang Xiaodu said to himself. In the not long years that fate bestowed him, nothing but remorse. Life cannot stand thinking and aftertaste, which is the experience accumulated by human beings for thousands of years. Therefore, Jiang Xiaodu rarely thinks about why he lives and why he lives. He thinks that people who always think about these kinds of problems when they are not at all have problems with their heads. He identified with his own ordinary from the beginning, which is his genius. I’m just a pragmatic person – for which his wife complimented him a lot, and he was proud of it.

However, the thought that tomorrow he would once again hand over his ugly, battered, and ugly body to the doctors, and let them disembowel them, filled him with despair and grief. He didn’t want to be humiliated again, he decided not to do the damn surgery, and to retain even the decency and dignity he imagined. The scene of the old director dying on the operating table of Taishan Hospital in Shanghai is like an old film movie, which has been put into his mind countless times. Whenever he recalled that scene, he was in high tension and grief. A person’s dignity was completely deprived at the moment of death, and he could not bear this deprivation: the heart of the old chief was still beating gently when he was carefully taken out and placed on the operating table. The doctor was about to replace a piece of artificial blood vessel for his heart aorta. The doctor did not expect that his heart blood vessel was as crisp as an egg roll. It shattered when touched, and the blood spurted out, instantly dyeing the shadowless light on the operating table. Blood red. The old director died on the operating table, and the operation failed. The doctor hurriedly stuffed his heart into the hollow chest cavity like an eight-treasure duck, and made a few random stitches. Whenever this scene surfaced in front of him, Jiang Xiaodu felt that his stomach was ripped open and then sewn up. The so-called dignity of human beings is utterly defeated on a small operating table.

Sometimes he couldn’t help but hate his wife and children a little. In the face of a family that has been looted by disease, they are willing to take out loans to maintain hopeless treatment. Whenever his wife and children cleaned the excrement from the sheets and wiped his body, he would think, how could they not react at all to my body that I hate so much? Seeing how tirelessly they were cleaning up their filth, he almost suspected that they were deliberately letting him continue to suffer in the world to satisfy their hypocrisy. In contrast, however, he hated the phony visits of distant relatives and neighbors. A year ago, he refused any visits from friends and relatives, scrawled on a piece of paper: I hate them more than they hate me, if they do. At that time, his hands were able to perform simple, effortless movements. He looked at the health products such as selenium-rich and melatonin stacked in the corner, and repeatedly asked his wife to take them to neighbors.

They are no different from garbage. He says.

The son whispered softly beside him, yes, Dad, I think they’d better give some money, and they need to find a place to store some useless things.

The mother thinks that they give these colorful things as gifts because they look good on face.

One day, my mother called Li Zheng, the owner of a nearby Huimin supermarket. Li Zheng picked out the unexpired health products, bought them at 50% off the market price, and dragged them all away with a scooter. Li Zheng is not bad-hearted, he understands the predicament of the Jiang family, and he said that he only pays a 30% discount for other people’s goods. I always give cash directly, the money and goods are cleared, and there is no debt. he said generously.

Afterwards, Jiang Xiaodu said solemnly to his son, “You can’t have such tacky thoughts at a young age.” Sometimes he can’t help but sigh to himself: it might be better for those relatives and friends who come to see him to give some money. However, he was immediately ashamed of himself for having the idea. Because from the bottom of his heart he rejects all well-intentioned visits. I really don’t want to see them or talk to them anymore. He told his wives to thank them for their kindness, but to ask them not to come again.

You’ll be fine, man. The eldest cousin is well-dressed, speaks a Beijing accent, and looks solemn. He first sat on a chair, then stood up and walked over to pat Jiang Xiaodu on the shoulder and said with a smile, I have seen a case of your disease being cured in a foreign medical journal. How can I say it is not so-called of incurable disease.

Yes, foreign medical journals, if you need vanity, words such as “foreign” may add color to you, but in the matter of saving lives, its role is not obvious. Jiang Xiaodu wanted to use these words to repay his eldest cousin, but he held back. He responded to his elder cousin’s concern with a grateful smile. The eldest cousin also tasted the joy of saying “beautiful words” from Jiang Xiaodu’s smile, so he went on to say that according to the theory of traditional Chinese medicine, a disease like cancer should be treated in three parts and nourished in seven parts. The most important thing is to forget that you have this disease. If you can forget that you have the disease, the disease will be cured by more than half. Jiang Xiaodu fully agrees with the theory of traditional Chinese medicine mentioned by the eldest cousin, but at the same time he believes that visits and condolences like the eldest cousin are actually strengthening the patient’s memory of the pain rather than forgetting the pain, so Jiang Xiaodu began to doubt their motives. But he immediately felt that it was immoral and a pathological reading to understand the motives of caring about others in this way.

As for his wife and sister, it was probably because she was a woman that she comforted Jiang Xiaodu in the opposite way to her eldest cousin. You can rest assured to recover, brother-in-law, don’t think too much. I always believe that good people are rewarded, you are a good person, brother-in-law. She was crying and looking serious. The most hateful thing was that she always sniffed, spit on a tissue, pinched it in her hand, and found a place to throw it away while talking.

Yes, I am a good person, and in the eyes of my wife’s family, I must be a good person. No prostitution, no gambling, no smoking, no drinking, and the salary is handed over to the wife. In the office of the unit, I am also a rare good person, never chasing fame and fortune, laughing at everyone, always being taciturn and doing things silently. But how few good people like me die? The old man Zhang in Kangle Lane, Jiuru Lane is much better than me. He not only adopted orphans, but also raised dozens of stray cats. Didn’t he still die in the early morning of the 26th day of the twelfth lunar month last year? Isn’t it sixty-one when you die? As for the boss Tao Hongzhang of the Construction Engineering Group, it can be said that he is so bad that he has sores on the top of his head and pus on the bottom of his feet. Isn’t he living better than anyone else? Jiang Xiaodu said in his heart, I have heard enough of this kind of comforting bullshit, and they make me more resentful.

As a pastime, he used to lie on the sickbed thinking about what kind of person he was in the past. In fact, he didn’t want to think like this, he was always ashamed to think about his past, present and future. He felt like thinking of himself like this was like taking off his clothes one by one in front of the mirror until he was naked. He prefers to think about people and things that have nothing to do with his own life. For several days, he had been thinking about the male star who walked out of Jiuru Lane, who played the big swordsman in the anti-Japanese drama. If the Japanese really came over, would he be a traitor? He also thought of Song Jiang and Wu Song. He thought that if these two people were a little less condescending and humble, they could lower their moral standards a little bit in a chaotic world, wouldn’t Yan Poxi and Pan Jinlian not die? Is it possible to avoid the occurrence of a series of unfortunate events in the future? One day, the strange word “Nus” suddenly popped into his mind, and he wondered when and where he had seen this strange word. He wants to figure out what it is and what it looks like, but he can’t start. He felt that “Nus” should belong to a pure and almost illusory existence. He thought about so many other distant and grotesque questions, until the pain in his brain and nerves from his imagination overcame the pain in his chest and abdomen.

Now, he really hates himself and feels sad for himself. I hate myself for being involuntarily, listening to others, pulling my bowels on the bed, and when I am thirsty or want to spit, no one answers the bell. At that time he really wanted to die, but he didn’t even have the strength to die. The son once offered to hire a nanny to serve him, but he refused. What about money? Jiang Xiaodu asked back first. In fact, his son is very clear in his heart that he can’t afford a nanny because of his family background, not to mention his mother has the “rich disease” of being unable to work at this juncture! And the reason why he asked his father to ask for a nanny was just that he felt that it should be mentioned in this way. I can’t stand a strange woman helping me with shit and urine. Jiang Xiaodu said. The father’s words relieved his son’s deep guilt.

He made his request for the fifteenth time when his wife and son came to the room, which was filled with a mix of drugs and feces. But this time the requirements are different.

I just want to die. He said to the mother and son, “You bring me tetramine, or dimethoate or dichlorvos.” This time, perhaps his wife and son felt his determination at the same time, and neither of them objected. But neither of them spoke, and a long sigh from his wife summed up all the misfortune of family life and the utter despair of a middle-aged housewife.

You have to live, how can you die? the wife said. Your son is still in school, I can’t work, and I have to pay as much for medical treatment as you. Our family is supported by your salary. If you die, we will lose our source of life. So, you have to live as long as possible, the longer the better.

I’ve thought about this issue. Jiang Xiaodu said, how long can I delay? half a year? a year? A year and a half is too short for you. For me, a year and a half means that I have to linger in front of the gates of hell for more than 300 days and nights. That pain I don’t want to endure anymore. So I thought of a plan, I have to let myself leave this world with peace of mind. What can make me feel at ease is to ensure that your life is secure. After I die, you don’t want to notify anyone, keep me secret, bury me in the ground of this room, the salary is all printed on the card, the person who pays the salary will not ask me to sign, as long as you can help me Keep it a secret, you can continue to receive my salary until my son graduates from college, has a job, and can support himself.

Until the day it was revealed? The wife said angrily.

When that day comes, what do you care about? Jiang Xiaodu’s weak tone was not without ridicule.

Are you dizzy? The wife said that the long-term pain has made you dizzy?

I’m not faint at all, Jiang Xiaodu said, I think the only thing I can use normally is my brain.

If so, says the wife, your idea is crazy. You know, our mother and son will not only be held responsible for your murder, but also for fraud.

The son opened WeChat on his mobile phone and read a piece of news to him: In Taizhou City, Zhejiang Province, three relatives were arrested for violating the criminal law for assisting critically ill patients in the “euthanasia”, or the crime of homicide…

I’ve thought about it over and over again, and it’ll be fine. Jiang Xiaodu said that the crime of homicide must be based on the act of deliberately depriving the deceased of his life against his will. I died voluntarily, and you are doing what I want. Besides, even if the incident happens, the son is not yet an adult, the responsibility will not be too great, the key is you. Jiang Xiaodu said to his wife, as long as you can bear the uncertain guilt, you should bear more. After he finished speaking, he closed his eyes, and after a while, he spoke again, as if talking to himself, could there be a better way? Do you have any? We have to take a bet, don’t we?

The wife stopped talking.

Jiang Xiaodu looked at his wife and son with expectant eyes. The mother and son looked at each other, then silently got up and left. After half an hour, the mother and son came to his bed again.

As he expected, they agreed to his plan.

The only thing to do is to look ahead, and the wife said that no one can predict what will happen in the future. For the sake of my family, I can do anything, and I am not afraid of anything, but I am worried about my son…

He knew that his wife and children cared about him, but no matter how much they cared, they couldn’t understand one ten thousandth of his pain. It is not difficult to come to such a conclusion, and he has had many such experiences himself. When Lao Tongwen died, he was only in his early thirties. When he was face to face with Lao Tongwen, he knew that Laotongwen was very painful. The smell of Laotongwen’s breath was bloody, how could it not be painful? But he never really understood what that pain was like. Because he only needs to turn around and forget Lao Tongwen’s pain, just like a forgetful careless person forgets any word that has nothing to do with him.

Jiang Xiaodu looked at the mother and son standing with their hands down, suddenly filled with guilt again: It’s not that I haven’t tried to kill myself, I’ve tried to kill myself, but I don’t even have the strength. Forgive me for dragging you into a killing you didn’t want to.


Jiang Xiaodu thought that he didn’t need to go to the hospital for surgery and the humiliation caused by the operation, and that he would soon be permanently relieved, and a slight joy welled up in his heart. However, this kind of spiritual energy disappeared in less than half a minute. After that, he felt an indescribable exhaustion, as if the tiredness accumulated from decades of work suddenly weighed on him. He fell asleep. When he woke up, he thought he had slept all day, but in fact he only slept for a cup of tea. The reason why he felt sleepy for a long time was because the sleep of this cup of tea was very solid, making him comfortable and happy. In his dream, he was once again with those relatives and friends who had already passed away. It was common for him to dream of his parents, but it was quite rare to dream of his uncle. Because the uncle had passed away when he was born, but the uncle appeared in the dream, and his facial hair and beard was specific and vivid. The uncle even spoke to him, you are here too?

The uncle’s mouth showed brown and sparse teeth, with food residue embedded in the teeth. The strange thing is that Jiang Xiaodu is not disgusted.

Yes, here I am. Jiang Xiaodu replied.

I always hear your father talk about you, but I’ve always wanted to see you. Uncle said.

Yes, I have been thinking about what you are like, Uncle, for as long as I can remember. Back then, I always regretted that my playmates had uncles and I didn’t. Jiang Xiaodu said.

I died of illness, my uncle said, when your mother was pregnant with you not long ago. That disease is really excruciating.

I heard my father say that. Jiang Xiaodu said, he said your intestines are all rotten.

Mother suddenly came over and interjected, why did you come back so early? Didn’t you say you won’t be back until next month?

Jiang Xiaodu wanted to tell his mother that when he was done, he came back early. But he felt it was lying, but he didn’t know what lie was being told. The mother asked again. In a panic, Jiang Xiaodu almost woke up, but he didn’t want to wake up. The willpower in his dream had an effect, and he returned to the dream. My father was sitting on a bamboo chair under the porch. He was weaving a fishing net or a basket with bamboo strips. Every time his body shook slightly, the bamboo chair would creak. His father didn’t talk to him, and he was always reticent. He remembered that his father won the honorable title of “Five Good Member” when he was a child. It was the end of the year, the wind was biting, and the sky was still snowing. He was standing at the intersection of the village and the city, waiting for his father to come back. He wanted to see how beautiful the glorious flowers on his father’s chest were. He finally waited until his father came back, but his father told him that the glorious flower had been blown into the river by the wind and could not be fished. After waiting too long that time, Jiang Xiaodu suffered frostbite on his ears, face, back of hands, and heels. Within two days, frostbite developed in those parts. Father suddenly handed Jiang Xiaodu the bamboo basket that had not been woven in his hand and said, “Go and fetch a basket of water.” Jiang Xiaodu weighed the basket and hesitated. He walked to the river, filled a basket with water, and brought it to his father, who took a handful of water and took a sip, and then washed his hands in the basket. He was probably ready to wash his hands and take a cigarette. All the water in the basket suddenly leaked to the ground with a thud. Jiang Xiaodu was taken aback and woke up from his dream. He couldn’t tell whether the dream just now was in hell or in heaven, or neither, but it was a place that made him feel happy, like living there for a long time, no, it felt like living in that place all the time. After waking up, Jiang Xiaodu realized that his deceased relatives and friends were calling him back.

More often, Jiang Xiaodu has dreams that he doesn’t want to have. Those dreams make him irritable and tired. Recently, he has been arguing all night with Tong Wen, his 17-year-old neighbor, about good and evil, and heaven. and hell, sin and punishment.

Do you know what is good and evil? Old Tong Wen always put on the air of an omniscient mentor in front of Jiang Xiaodu. When he spoke, he spittled and looked aggressive, while Jiang Xiaodu often had a dry mouth and a hard tongue without saying a few words, and he quickly bowed his head to admit defeat. But he didn’t know why he was arguing with Lao Tongwen about these nonsense issues, because in his memory, the old Tongwen in the yang world had no purpose and no purpose to abuse except drinking. Two years before Lao Tongwen died, he was involved in a legendary scandalous incident. Some people said that he had an affair with his daughter-in-law, but Jiang Xiaodu did not believe it. Although Lao Tongwen is notoriously playful, but he was already old at that time and in very poor health, how could such an indecent thing happen? Some people say that he put the 10,000 yuan that others entrusted him to return to the company into his own pocket. Jiang Xiaodu thinks this statement is very credible. Lao Tongwen likes to gamble. Tight is normal. Jiang Xiaodu thought, just these two things, no matter which one is, it is enough for Lao Tongwen to clamp down on his grand theories about good and evil. But in the dream, who can control him and his mouth? Once he asked Lao Tongwen in a dream, one of my hands and feet is always cold and the other is warm. Is there any way to make them warm at the same time? Lao Tongwen took a puff of cigarette, coughed desperately for a while, coughed up a mouthful of thick phlegm, and then said to him in a hoarse voice that your body is sick. Since then, Jiang Xiaodu has felt that something is wrong with his body.


His underage son started digging in the open space of his room. He had to dig a pit two meters long, one meter five wide, and two meters deep to ensure that his father could sleep and that the odor of the corpse would not seep out of the ground. His son has inherited his steady and down-to-earth style of doing things. He first prepared the excavation tools, then framed the excavation area with ink lines, calculated the time and route of the reclaimed soil transportation, and then started the construction.

Digging a deep hole several meters long at home is by no means an easy task. Many tools cannot be used, so we can only dig with a shovel and a pickaxe, and we must control the sound and movement, and then secretly transport the soil out at night. This increased the difficulty of digging, and several times he thought of giving up. At this time, what he was most worried about was that the hole was not dug well, and his father left first.

His father was lying on the bed next to him humming. He originally wanted his son to help him sit up and watch him dig, but his son firmly refused.

In that case, I can’t dig with a shovel. son said.

Jiang Xiaodu understood his son’s mood. He encouraged his son to say that the sooner you dig, the sooner your father will be freed.

On the fifth day, he dug only half a meter deep. My father asked him if he had dug well, and he said it was only half a meter deep. Maybe Jiang Xiaodu was trying to comfort him, telling him, don’t worry, you are digging slowly, I can feel that you are very focused when you are digging, and listening to the rhythm of your digging is very comfortable, and your breathing is smooth. This sentence inadvertently became the motivation for my son to dig a hole.

Since then, the progress of my son’s digging has accelerated significantly.

The digging and colliding sounds of shovels and picks made Jiang Xiaodu nervous, and the desire and fear of death made him forget the pain for a while. The son’s excavation process was not smooth. The foundation was full of rammed stones, concrete fragments, and various discarded woven bags. Since the son had to go to school during the day, he could only dig at night, and he could not use the excavation machinery, and he could not make too much noise… This all limits the mining speed. Between breaks, the son always sits on the edge of the bed and chats with his father softly. He hides his rubbed hands from his father’s sight. He told his father that digging to hone his physical strength and willpower. Jiang Xiaodu said that the key issue is that you think it is worthwhile and correct to do so, otherwise everything will be futile.

Is it really worth it, right? The son asked the father.

Do not doubt, what you do is what God tells you to do, not just what I ask you to do. Jiang Xiaodu said, recently, I always dream of your dead grandfather, grandma, uncle, and uncle. They treated me very well. When I walked into their team, it was like returning to my hometown from an unfamiliar place. Everything there felt familiar, the place clearly beckoned me, and I figured it was time for me to go back and reunite with them.

Late one night, my son came to the bed again, father, are you asleep?

No, Jiang Xiaodu felt the strangeness in his son’s words, do you want to tell me that it has been dug up?

The son nodded.

Jiang Xiaodu looked at his son with tired eyes.

The son has lost a lot of weight, and the continuous work and inner struggle have changed his appearance and spirit.

Is it raining? Jiang Xiaodu asked.

Yes, it’s been down since dusk. The son answered.

If it’s sunny tomorrow, the air must be nice. Jiang Xiaodu said in a hopeful tone.

Yes, this season, the air must be good after rain and sunny. The son looked out the window and said.

If so, I want to go out and have a look, can you push me out tomorrow? Jiang Xiaodu said to his son.

OK, father. The son choked a little, probably thinking that the hole was dug and his father’s life was about to end.

The ticking sound on the asbestos tile canopy outside the window simultaneously tapped the father and son’s brain nerves, tapping endlessly.

It was sunny the next day. My son asked the school for leave, brought a cart, and helped Jiang Xiaodu to sit on it. The bedsore made Jiang Xiaodu grimaced in pain, and his son had to find a thick old sponge and put it on the chair. When the cart passed the deep pit where he was about to be buried, Jiang Xiaodu asked his son to stop, and he looked sideways (only sideways) for a long time. Then, he said to his son, son, the hole you dug is beautiful.

My son grinned happily, and I put some quicklime in the pit to keep out insects and moisture.

I would have liked to hear the chirping of spring worms in the pit. Jiang Xiaodu said.

He was pushed outside, and he saw wisteria with crimson flowers, the stone exterior paint of the new building, the mottled limestone walls of the old house that contrasted sharply with the new building, and the beautiful small Cars and stationary traffic boxes, seeing artificial ditches and weeping willows fluttering in the wind… everything is so beautiful, full of dreamy allure and sadness. He said timidly to his son, I feel better these days when you dig the grave.

My son was startled for a moment, then surprised. I’ll take you to the hospital tomorrow for a check-up.

Take me to the hospital for a check up? is this necessary?

It is necessary, what if your illness really gets better?

Well then, what if the doctor catches me and insists on operating me?

The operation requires our consent, you can rest assured.

Father doesn’t really want to die, who really wants to die? The son thought, but he knew that his father’s improvement was just an illusion. The father should have known better than himself that it was an illusion, but he…

A neighbor walked past the cart. It was Lao Tongwen’s eldest daughter-in-law, the daughter-in-law who was rumored to have an affair with Laotongwen. She was plump and wore a floral dress that wrapped tightly around her body. She nodded to him and said that Lao Jiang looked in good spirits. Jiang Xiaodu tried to cheer himself up, opened his eyes as wide as possible, and a smile appeared on his face. He had his reasons for doing this, he wanted to maintain his dignity in front of those who knew him, and if he did achieve his planned secret death, he would also try to convince those around him that he was getting better and better, Always on the road to recovery. It’s just that his whole person didn’t completely obey the command of his mind: his head was drooping and tilted to one side, and his face was as sallow as the pleats of a skirt. It looks a bit like Hawking.

The warm air gave him a long-lost comfort. He asked his son to push him into the shadow of a linden tree. He wanted to look for the small ponds of the past, a road that was half gravel and half muddy, a row of tall and straight Metasequoia, and a dilapidated wooden octagonal pavilion among the row upon row of buildings. Until the rustic barking of suburban women woke him up.


After midnight, Jiang Xiaodu felt a little hot around his eyes. He knew that the high fever was coming again, and he had a premonition that this high fever would be more severe than any previous one. He was terrified, and every time he had a high fever, it was like walking up and down in hell. In the rapid breathing, he smelled the stench of the decay of his organs, and the severe pain was like a gust of wind, the waves were higher and steeper than the waves. He could feel the devastating destruction that steepness brought to life. In a trance, the wife and son gently walked into the room, the sky was already bright, and the tiredness and anticipation on their faces could be clearly seen. The son was holding a steaming blue-rimmed white-glazed medicine bowl, and his wife said to him in as gentle a voice as possible, it’s time to take the medicine, and I’ll help you sit up. He slowly swept across the faces of his wife and son, then tilted his neck and drank the medicine. A few drops of the medicine dripped onto the quilt, which was as slippery and hard as a knife cloth. He said, you have to wait until I’m dead and stiff before putting me in that pit. He closed his eyes and waited for the drug to strike, for death to come, and he couldn’t help imagining the battle, the shape, the sound, and the smell of death, and he felt a little relief, a little joy, even a little happiness.

Without a word, the wife and son turned to leave, and darkness enveloped the bedroom again. He didn’t want to be alone in the dark, the darkness was like a dense and heavy iron cauldron covering him, making him unable to breathe. After several attempts, he had to give up. He lay there panting, as if he had just come back from the dark, gloomy corridors of hell. He had a heated argument in the corridor with the Pope named Chenostino whom he had read in an old book, and he was exhausted by the argument. He hated these strangers, every time he had a high fever, the characters he didn’t interact with much on weekdays, and the characters he glanced at in books and movies would come up to talk and argue with him, they wore disgusting clothes and fucked Speak loudly in dialect. He and Yao Anhe, the secretary of the brigade when he was a child, quarreled so badly about remembering the wrong work points, and almost did it; he and Zhang Yonglin, the author of “Half a Man is a Woman” and the book’s Zhang Yonglin, talked about love, marriage and betrayal. The three of them fought blushing, and then parted ways; he and Jiao Sanye in “Hundred Birds Chaofeng” had argued several times about whether to continue playing the suona. In the delirium of the high fever, he threw the suona into the iron furnace and disbanded his suona team; he had a talk with the entrepreneur Jack Ma about speculation and entrepreneurship, and he slammed Jack Ma’s Taobao shopping platform model, but at the same time admitted I have also bought cheap goods on Taobao and Pinduoduo. Ma Yun laughed at him for this. He explained that this is the Chinese people’s herd mentality, which is carried forward by the rolling torrents of society; he and Fugui discussed the meaning of life… Of course, the one who argued the most with him was Lao Tongwen. Once, Lao Tongwen was lying on the coffin lid and arguing with him whether matter decides consciousness or consciousness decides matter. When the undertaker put his body in the coffin and was about to close the coffin lid, he was still expressing his unique opinion. .

It was dawn, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open, exhausted and dying from a night of high fever and delirium. The son and his wife came to the bed, and the wife asked him if he wanted to sit up and drink some hot water while combing his gray hair. He motioned for them to come closer, and then said to them in a weak, broken voice, “I remember, the text I asked for euthanasia was in that book “Autonomy of Life”, haven’t you touched it?

Not moved. After the son finished speaking, he looked at his mother, but the mother was expressionless.

What I’m trying to say is that he went on to say to them that if my death were found, that statement would prove that you were not murdered. In addition, after I die, you still go to Doctor Li at the People’s Hospital to get medicines as usual. He is my friend and will not ask me to be there in person for consultation and examination. In fact, I cannot always be there in person. He might ask how I’m doing, and you can say it’s not good, but you can’t see a very obvious deterioration. He thought about it and then went on to say that next year, if the doctor asks me about my condition again, it is because he has doubts, because according to his judgment, I will not survive this year. You have to think of countermeasures and convince him that his judgment is wrong, because you also took me to Shanghai to see and took the medicine prescribed by the doctor in Shanghai.

His wife and son listened in silence.

I am most worried about you. Jiang Xiaodu looked at his son, he wanted to tell a few words that he had said a thousand times. Suddenly, the look in his son’s eyes made him give up his plan to warn him again, because he found that the man standing beside the bed was not only half a head taller than his mother, but his eyes showed something surprising. Strength, not the fear and sadness that a minor should have.

He rolled his eyes to look at his wife, and you still need to be cured. The wife nodded.

After saying the above, he paused for a long time before speaking, so well, let’s bring the rat. His tone sounded like he was issuing a death sentence.

Didn’t you go to the hospital for a checkup? The son’s voice trembled.

He didn’t answer.

The wife and son looked at each other and turned to go out. After a while, she brought a bowl of steaming soup. He didn’t even look, he wanted to finish it in one gulp, but the choking forced him to slow down, pausing for a while after each sip.

If I’m struggling with a seizure, you cover me and sit on top of me. He told his wife and children, just like Pan Jinlian and Wang Po killed Wu Dalang.

He thought, I am infinitely close to death, but I don’t feel the meaning of life to death that the arrogant philosopher said, I only feel that life is meaningless, on the contrary, death has some meaning, At least it ends my meaningless life and unbearable pain. Alas, I’m so tired, let’s finish it! He closed his eyes, and he seemed to hear his son’s whimpering and his wife’s sobbing. Suddenly, he opened his eyes, as if he suddenly woke up from a nightmare, but he didn’t dream because he was always awake – a person who designed his own death for himself would not fall asleep on the eve of death. He wanted to call his wife and son, but all he could hear was their whispers in the living room (a bit like the conversation he heard when his eardrums were pressed for the first time on a plane, distant, illusory). He was annoyed that they didn’t stay by the bedside to see him die. He wanted to shout, but his throat was blocked by a mouthful of phlegm. In a trance, he saw his wife and children being taken away by the police and being pushed and sent to the court for trial… Sweat soaked his sour underwear again. He thought they wouldn’t be lightly punished just because they were his wife and children, and he passed out with a whimper.

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