Zhou Daping and a few villagers sat on the bench outside the operating room, and no one spoke. Their hands and clothes were still stained with blood, but no one thought to wash it off. They just stared at the red indicator light on the operating room door, like drowning men staring at a lighthouse on the sea.
Zhou Daping's left arm had been bandaged, the white gauze standing out starkly against the dusty gray sleeve. He forgot about the pain. His mind was full of the two words Li Min had just said.
Open chest!
Zhou Fusheng from Chalu Village, fifty-three years old, had driven agricultural vehicles in the village all his life, delivering fertilizer in spring and hauling rice in autumn, and doing some transport during the farming off-season. His wife passed away ten years ago, and he raised their son by himself, supporting him to attend high school in the county town, where he achieved excellent grades and is about to take the university entrance exam next year.
