A Leisurely and Extravagant Life - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Deep Slumber

Inside Luo Tianwang’s head, countless oracle bone characters whirled about endlessly. He could neither see nor hear the world around him, only faintly catching his grandfather Luo Baolin’s anxious cries.

“Tianwang! Tianwang!” Baolin shouted as he carried his grandson on his back, running frantically toward home. But Tianwang slept deeply, his body rocking limply with each stride.

“What’s wrong with Tianwang?” Grandma Xiao Chunxiu was alarmed the moment she saw Baolin rushing in with the boy on his back.

Baolin laid Tianwang on the bed. “I don’t know what happened. I only heard Shengui shouting wildly, so I ran to the riverbank and found Tianwang lying on the ground, unresponsive. He was still clutching this.”

He handed her the tortoise shell.

One look, and Chunxiu’s face paled. “Are you out of your mind? How could you bring such a thing into the house?”

“Of course I know what it is,” Baolin replied. “But Tianwang’s condition is strange. I brought it back so Zengcai can take a look.” He glanced back at his grandson.

Chunxiu fell silent, realizing what her husband meant. Their grandson’s state was far from ordinary.

Luo Tianwang slept a long time—until the next day. When he finally awoke, his head felt heavy. He rubbed and pounded it with his hand, but nothing helped.

“Tianwang, you’re awake! Go wash up, it’s time for breakfast.” Baolin, relieved to see him conscious, finally let his heart settle.

But soon he noticed something off. After breakfast, Tianwang began yawning nonstop, crawled back into bed, and fell sound asleep. No amount of shaking from Baolin and Chunxiu could wake him.

He slept until dark, then roused for dinner. He watched a bit of his favorite cartoon, the kind that usually had him giggling uncontrollably, but before long, he was yawning again and slumped asleep in his chair.

“Old man, something’s wrong! I’ve watched him all day, and Tianwang has never been like this before,” Chunxiu said anxiously.

“I see it too.” Baolin sighed heavily.

“Shouldn’t we call Zhengjiang and Hongmei, tell them to hurry back?” Chunxiu asked, lifting Tianwang into her arms to carry him to bed.

“Let’s not rush yet. Maybe he was frightened in the river yesterday. He might recover in a few days. He doesn’t seem to be physically ill.”

“Then… we’ll wait another day or two.” Chunxiu nodded.

But days passed, and Tianwang remained the same. At last, the grandparents panicked and phoned his parents, who were working far away.

The moment Luo Zhengjiang and Zeng Hongmei heard their son was sick, they dropped everything, quit their jobs, and rushed back to Hemawan.

Tianwang was overjoyed to see them. He played with his parents all afternoon without once falling asleep. The family thought he was cured. But the very next day, his endless drowsiness returned. He could barely stay awake, dozing off even while standing.

“Son, please hold on, don’t fall asleep! Do you know how worried your mother is when you just keep drifting off like this?” Zeng Hongmei cried, shaking him hard.

“Mom, I’m so happy you’re back. I don’t want to sleep, but I just can’t help it…” Tianwang said, almost in tears—then fell into snores mid-sentence.

Hongmei hugged him tightly. “Sleep then, my boy, sleep. I won’t force you. You’re sick—this isn’t your fault.”

Baolin puffed on his pipe. “I reckon Tianwang must’ve been frightened that day at the river. It’s a pity Shengui can’t explain what really happened. Why don’t we call Zengcai to help drive away the fright?”

“It’s the modern age! Why cling to such superstition?” Zhengjiang muttered. “I’m planning to take Tianwang with Hongmei to a city hospital.”

Baolin fumed, smoking in silence, ignoring him.

Chunxiu spoke gently: “That’s fine too. Have the hospital check him—better to be safe. With modern science, almost anything can be treated.”

So Zhengjiang and Hongmei brought Tianwang to the provincial capital. On the way, the boy slept the entire journey, so much that even fellow passengers noticed.

“Why is your child sleeping the whole time?” one asked.

Hongmei sighed. “We don’t know why. He suddenly became like this, constantly asleep. We’re taking him to a big hospital.”

“Strange illnesses like this… even big hospitals may not help,” the passenger muttered, shaking his head.

Zhengjiang bristled. “Provincial hospitals specialize in rare diseases. The experts there are very capable. They’ll cure my boy.”

At that, the passenger said no more.

When they disembarked, Hongmei tugged her husband’s hand. “That man seemed like he wanted to say more. Why didn’t you ask?”

“Ask what? That’s how conmen work. He probably wanted us to believe in superstition and scam us out of money. If we ignore him, he’ll know we’re not fooled.” Zhengjiang seemed certain.

But Hongmei remained uneasy. If he was a swindler, why bother taking the same bus just to trick them?

At the hospital, the couple didn’t even know which department to register with. Internal medicine? Surgery? Neither seemed to fit. After asking around, they were told to see Neurology. They managed to get a specialist appointment.

The professor, kindly seeing they were from the countryside, said, “Your child’s condition is complicated. Frankly, tests aren’t necessary. The results will show nothing unusual. Modern medicine can do nothing for this kind of case. You’d only waste money. Take him home and care for him—maybe one day he’ll wake up on his own.”

The parents were stunned. They had pinned their hopes on this top provincial hospital, certain it would cure their son. To hear it was helpless shattered them.

“What do we do now? If our boy stays like this forever, what will we do?” Hongmei cried in panic.

Frustrated and heartsick, Zhengjiang snapped, “The doctor said there’s no cure! What do you expect me to do?”

Just then, Tianwang stirred awake. Seeing his father angry and his mother weeping, he whispered timidly, “Dad, Mom, please don’t fight…”