Daily Life in the Countryside After Being Reborn-Chapter 225 - 29: Red Powder Eighteen Students – Camellia Story

Mr. Bai Juyi, an elderly man, resided in Internal Medicine Ward 203 at Ditan Hospital. Counting the time Zhu Shijun was hospitalized, this was Xiao Xian’s second visit to a hospital, making her quite familiar with it. However, such familiarity was hardly a good thing.

On her way there, Feng Xing mentioned that Zhuo Feng was still in the hospital. Before leaving her house, Xiao Xian saw the camellia plant she had rescued from Mr. Bai’s good-for-nothing nephew and, thinking it customary to bring flowers when visiting the sick, she impulsively brought it along.

Ditan Hospital is a top-tier medical facility, with nurses and doctors who are very courteous. After learning that Xiao Xian was there to visit a patient, they directed her to the right place.

The young nurse at the reception desk brightened up at the sight of the camellia in Xiao Xian’s hands, complimenting her, "Young lady, the camellia you’re holding looks pretty, though it has just a few blossoms."

Prompted by their remarks, Xiao Xian scrutinized the pink camellia more closely. The plant was not very tall, about sixty to seventy centimeters in height, its leaves a jade green without a trace of dust, with merely three blossoms and buds combined.

The first blossom was beautifully unfolded, evenly pink, while the other two were still buds, their sepals tenderly encasing the petals, all of which looked quite endearing.

"A sixty-year-old dwarf camellia, propagated through cutting and division, its bottom branches and leaves are often pruned, making the crown substantially smaller than those of other camellias from the same age group. It blooms a maximum of three flowers a year and is also known as the ’Red Powder Eighteen Students.’ ’Eighteen’ does not refer to the eighteen different colors of camellias mentioned in novels, but to the pattern of the petals—eighteen petals in a bloom, neatly arranged diagonally, pure and lovely, like eighteen young girls in the prime of their youth, graceful and delicate."

Red Powder Eighteen Students? What an exquisitely literary name, thought Xiao Xian, lamenting that it almost fell into the hands of those who couldn’t appreciate its beauty.

However, judging just by its appearance, this sixty-year-old "Pink Eighteen Scholar" must be worth a significant amount on the market.

Earlier, the thugs were eyeing the pot because the bloom was quite nice, though sparse in flowers. If only they knew that the camellia was the rare Eighteen Scholars, they might have been enraged beyond measure.

Ward 203 was a double room with an acceptable environment. The bed adjacent to Mr. Bai Juyi’s had been occupied by an elderly man who passed away last night from a sudden heart attack, unresponsive to resuscitation.

As Xiao Xian entered the room, a nurse was in the midst of changing the bedding.

A hospital is a place filled with hope yet brimming with despair, where every day welcomes new life and farewells the departed.

Mr. Bai Juyi’s bed was near the window. From the polished windowpane, one could see the red maple trees within the hospital grounds, their fiery red leaves fluttering to the ground with each gust of wind.

"Mr. Bai, I’ve come to see you," said Xiao Xian as she carefully placed the potted plant on the nightstand, adding a bright splash of color to the overly pristine room.

"Cough cough," Mr. Bai Juyi turned his head. As soon as he began to speak, a cough overcame him. He also noticed the pink camellia, looking as if he had witnessed a rain shower in a barren desert, squeezing a smile onto his parched, aged face.

Xiao Xian’s heart skipped a beat; the old man had lost a lot of weight. She was not adept at recognizing the stages of life and death in others, but seeing the man’s dried-up eyes, his spine curved into an arch, and the wrinkled skin clinging to his bones, she surmised that his days were numbered.

Despite the tender care of the kind-hearted couple Zhuo Feng and Feng Xing in recent days, Mr. Bai Juyi was withering like autumn leaves, inching closer to the end of his life.

The situation with Zhu Shi was different—Mr. Bai Juyi had not even attempted to struggle against his illness. Heart disease and its numerous complications were eroding his body and willpower.

"Mr. Bai, don’t talk, have some water first," Xiao Xian said, intending to pour some for him, noticing Zhuo Feng was not in the room. On the cabinet next to the bed, there was a jar of freshly cooked porridge and a few apples.

"Little girl, are you on holiday?" After giving Xiao Xian the Hami melon, Mr. Bai Juyi had waited at home for several days, hoping Xiao Xian would come over to borrow a spring onion or pick a melon. Simply having more human voices in the house was enough for him.

He waited for over two weeks but never saw that lively and clever young lady again. Later, when Zhuo Feng took him to the hospital, he was told that the girl was attending a boarding middle school and would only return home once a month.

"Yes, our school is holding a sports meet, Mr. Bai. Let me tell you about some fun things at school. You see, there’s this really good Sichuan cuisine stall on our school’s commercial street, and the couple that runs it makes a delicious chili sauce," Xiao Xian tried to talk about happier matters. Zhu Shi had always loved hearing her talk about the day’s happenings at school—one narrating, the other listening.

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