[Translation] The Story Untold (那个不为人知的故事) by Twentine (周爱华): Chapter 7

 

“Are you okay?”

Yang Zhao grabbed Chen Mingsheng's arm. The muscles in his arm were drawn tight.

Chen Mingsheng's face turned pale, but he steadied himself.

“Thank you.”

Seeing the sweat covering his forehead, Yang Zhao frowned.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Chen Mingsheng shook his head.

“I'm fine.”

Yang Zhao glanced downward and noticed that his right hip was trembling slightly. Looking up, she realized how close his face was to hers. She took a small step back and said,

“This won't do. I'm taking you to the hospital.”

Chen Mingsheng looked at her in surprise. This woman really didn't seem afraid of trouble.

Still, he refused.

“I'm really fine. No need to bother.”

Yang Zhao looked at him.

“Can you even walk like this?”

Yang Zhao had long, narrow eyes. She rarely glared at people; her gaze was usually calm and indifferent.

Chen Mingsheng looked at her, trying to determine whether there was any hostility behind her words. In the end, he looked away.

“I can walk.”

Yang Zhao turned around and took her coat from the hook by the door.

Then she looked back at him.

“I'm taking you to the hospital.”

Chen Mingsheng took a deep breath.

Yang Zhao silently watched him.

There wasn't the slightest fluctuation in her eyes.

Too tired to argue further, he finally nodded.

“I'll go get the car,” Yang Zhao said. “Can you get downstairs by yourself?”

He nodded again.

Yang Zhao opened the door and left.

Chen Mingsheng stared in the direction she'd gone for nearly half a minute before moving.

He rolled up his pant leg and looked down.

Just as he'd expected.

The stump was infected.

With a sigh, he turned around, picked up his prosthetic leg, and left the apartment.

Fortunately, this building had an elevator...

Leaning against the wall inside the elevator, he thought exactly that.

---

Yang Zhao parked her car at the entrance.

Chen Mingsheng placed the prosthetic leg in the back seat.

He intended to sit in the rear as well, but Yang Zhao leaned over and opened the passenger door for him.

After settling into the seat, he placed his crutches in the back.

The car started moving.

A moment later, Yang Zhao glanced at him.

“Fasten your seat belt.”

“...”

Chen Mingsheng had never been in the habit of wearing one.

Still, he nodded and buckled up.

As Yang Zhao drove out of the residential complex, she asked,

“Third Hospital? That's the closest one.”

“Ah...”

Something occurred to him.

“No need for a hospital. Could you take me to the Municipal Rehabilitation Center?”

“The rehabilitation center?”

The car slowed slightly.

“Where is it?”

“At the intersection of Thirteenth Latitude Road.”

Yang Zhao pulled over and began fiddling with the GPS.

After watching her struggle with it for quite a while, Chen Mingsheng said,

“Thirteenth Latitude Road is next to Qishan Road. It's about twenty minutes from here. I can guide you.”

Yang Zhao sat back.

“Then lead the way.”

---

The car was quiet.

Neither of them spoke much.

Yang Zhao didn't have the habit of listening to music or the radio while driving.

Chen Mingsheng only spoke at important intersections.

In reality, there was only one turn to make before continuing straight the rest of the way.

Yang Zhao had never realized there was a rehabilitation center so close to where she lived.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived.

The building looked newly constructed—a four-story structure that still appeared brand new.

A row of vehicles was parked outside.

Yang Zhao found an empty space and parked.

Chen Mingsheng unbuckled his seat belt.

“Thank you. I can handle the rest myself.”

Yang Zhao removed the key from the ignition.

“I don't have anything to do today. I'll stay until you've seen the doctor.”

“...”

He climbed out of the car and balanced on one leg while opening the rear door.

Because Yang Zhao had parked very close to another vehicle, the door was difficult to open.

Seeing this, Yang Zhao said,

“Wait a second. I'll get it.”

She walked around to the other side and retrieved his crutches.

When she noticed the prosthetic leg in the back seat, she paused briefly before deciding to carry only the crutches.

“Let's go. Do you need to register first?”

Supporting himself on his crutches, Chen Mingsheng walked beside her.

“No. I already texted the doctor. I just need to pick up some medicine.”

“Oh.”

---

The entrance to the rehabilitation center was connected by a ramp.

When they entered the first floor, Yang Zhao noticed several wheelchairs near the entrance, clearly provided for patients' convenience.

She turned to Chen Mingsheng.

“Can anyone use these? Do you want to sit down?”

He didn't answer.

Yang Zhao simply wheeled one over.

“Sit. It'll save you some energy.”

Standing had become genuinely difficult for him.

Normally, Chen Mingsheng disliked using wheelchairs, but now he wasn't in a position to be stubborn.

Yang Zhao took his crutches.

Chen Mingsheng transferred himself into the wheelchair and rolled forward a few times.

“What floor is the doctor on?”

“Third.”

He wheeled himself toward the elevator with obvious familiarity.

Yang Zhao followed behind him.

Everywhere she looked were accessibility facilities: ramps, tactile paving, handrails.

She had never been exposed so closely to the world of disabled people before.

She stayed close behind him.

---

When the elevator doors opened on the third floor, Yang Zhao immediately saw a sign reading Physical Rehabilitation.

The hallway was quiet.

Several rooms lined both sides.

As they passed one open door, she saw parallel bars set up inside and a doctor instructing patients on how to walk again.

Chen Mingsheng headed straight for the office at the end of the corridor.

He knocked.

The door opened almost immediately.

An elderly doctor with a kind face greeted them.

The moment he saw Chen Mingsheng, he broke into a smile.

“Xiao Chen! Come in. I got your text message. What happened? Your leg got infected?”

The office was spacious.

Only the elderly doctor occupied it.

There was a desk and several potted plants in one corner.

The doctor pulled over a bench and patted it.

“Come, sit down. Let me take a look.”

“Master Zhang...”

Chen Mingsheng shifted from the wheelchair onto the bench.

His right leg stump hung stiffly.

Doctor Zhang frowned.

“Good grief, it's swollen too. What did you do?”

“An accident.”

His answer was quiet.

Yang Zhao stood nearby, feeling somewhat conflicted.

It was probably because of the rain yesterday.

If he hadn't taken her home, his leg might not have gotten worse.

And when she'd supported him earlier, she'd noticed his clothes were still damp.

He'd spent the entire night wearing wet clothes.

Of course there would be problems.

She recalled how she'd used his disability as leverage to force him to come back to her apartment and avoid the storm.

The method had been unpleasant.

Yet she still believed it had been the right choice.

Spending an entire autumn night in the rain might have caused something far worse.

---

Doctor Zhang brought over a tray of alcohol swabs and sat across from him.

“Come on. Roll it up and let me see.”

“...”

Chen Mingsheng's hand rested on his pant leg.

He glanced at Yang Zhao.

Clearly, he hesitated.

Doctor Zhang followed his gaze and suddenly remembered she was there.

“And this young lady is...?”

The question immediately plunged both of them into silence.

What exactly were they?

Friends?

Obviously not.

Strangers who had met by chance?

Not quite.

Creditor and debtor?

That wasn't something either of them wanted to say.

Chen Mingsheng opened his mouth.

Before he could answer, Yang Zhao spoke.

“I'm his neighbor.”

Chen Mingsheng glanced at her and closed his mouth.

“A neighbor.”

Doctor Zhang accepted the explanation without question.

He picked up a disinfectant swab.

“Come on. Let me examine it first.”

Once again Chen Mingsheng looked toward Yang Zhao.

Apparently, he had hoped she'd understand he wanted some privacy.

She clearly didn't.

With a sigh, he released his grip on his pant leg.

---

Doctor Zhang lifted the fabric.

Yang Zhao tried her best to remain calm.

But there was no way not to be shocked.

Chen Mingsheng's leg—

Or rather, what remained of it.

In Yang Zhao's eyes, it could hardly be called a leg anymore.

Only a short section remained.

The muscles near the stump had visibly atrophied, yet swelling had left them red and inflamed.

A long scar stretched across the amputation site.

Yang Zhao felt it had never fully healed.

In fact, she couldn't understand how someone with a wound that was still oozing pus could be anywhere other than a hospital.

Doctor Zhang clicked his tongue twice and carefully cleaned around the wound with alcohol-soaked cotton.

Just watching made Yang Zhao think it must be excruciating.

Yet Chen Mingsheng sat with his head lowered and never made a sound.

“You really know how to torture yourself,” Doctor Zhang scolded harshly.

“Your physical therapy wasn't even halfway finished. Then you went home and didn't take proper care of yourself. Keep this up and it'll only get worse.”

Whether Chen Mingsheng remained silent because of the pain or because he couldn't refute the criticism, Yang Zhao couldn't tell.

He simply sat against the wall quietly.

Finally, Doctor Zhang concluded:

“You need to be hospitalized. The infection is already serious.”

At that, Chen Mingsheng finally reacted.

“No. I'll go home and recover on my own.”

“Stop relying on your youth!”

Doctor Zhang was getting angry.

“You refused to continue physical therapy because you said you'd recover at home. And what happened? You don't know the first thing about proper care. I'm not trying to scare you—if this keeps up, you'll need another amputation!”

Silence.

The words hung heavily in the room.

Perhaps realizing he had gone too far, Doctor Zhang softened his tone.

“Stay in the hospital and let us take care of it properly. A little medicine isn't going to solve this.”

Then he suddenly turned toward Yang Zhao.

“You should talk some sense into him too! He's stubborn as a mule!”

Pulled unexpectedly into the conversation, Yang Zhao was startled.

Looking at Doctor Zhang's wide eyes, she nodded.

“Uh... yes. You should stay in the hospital. Having people take care of you will help you recover faster.”

“See? This young lady understands.”

Doctor Zhang looked pleased to have found an ally.

“You don't need to stay long. About a month should do. This is your own body. You're the one who suffers.”

Chen Mingsheng sat quietly for a long moment.

Finally, he said softly,

“No. Just prescribe the medicine.”

“Sigh...”

Doctor Zhang slapped his thigh and sighed heavily.

He probably knew Chen Mingsheng's temperament well enough.

There was no point continuing.

“I'll go get the medicine. Wait here.”

---

After Doctor Zhang left, Yang Zhao remained standing where she was.

She looked at Chen Mingsheng, who sat with his head lowered, enduring the pain in silence.

And suddenly she felt that this taxi driver was somehow different from ordinary people.