"The hibiscus tree stands like a deer kite, burning the nine summers" was Ji Huai's most beautiful comment on the deer hibiscus tree. The words "wait for me" at the train station seven years ago have become an agreement that spans time.
We met again in the hospital. He was a promising gastric cancer doctor, and she was a patient with advanced gastric cancer. The calmness under the white coat shattered into tenderness when facing her; the indifference on the hospital bed hid unspoken concerns when seeing him.
He held the knife, wanting to keep the flower that was about to wither; she smiled slightly, fearing to live up to the persistence in his eyes. The operating lights went out, the agreement finally came to nothing, and the warmth of midsummer could not withstand the cold winter of fate.
The hibiscus flowers fade and the old shadows become mournful. Some regrets were that every time he looked at the flower bed for the rest of his life, he would think of the girl holding the flowers - she had burned through the nine summers like a raging fire, but in the end there was only ashes left, weighing down the years.
Intention: The hibiscus is burning every year, and he takes the summer of two people away for a long, long time.
