Snowy Night Campfire (I)

"Does the second phase of treatment need to be extended further?"

In the dimly lit laboratory, Schiller stood in front of the cryogenic chamber, holding a notebook, writing and asking Victor questions as he went.

Victor stood at the back of the cryotherapy unit adjusting the equipment. He said, "I feel much better now, and maybe I can go straight to the third stage of treatment."

"The second phase of the treatment regimen may need some adjustments. Let's do another week to wrap it up." Schiller looked up, intending to look at Victor, but instead saw Mrs. Fries's fingertips twitch slightly in the cryo-chamber.

"Am I seeing things? Her fingertips seem to be reacting?"

Schiller crouched down and looked into the cryo-chamber. Victor walked over and said, "It shouldn't be my imagination. Last night, I saw Nora's eyelids twitch..."

"I haven't adjusted the power of the cryo-chamber, so this shouldn't be her own activity, but rather the brain-activating drugs at work."

"Should we increase the dosage of the nerve repair agent? After all..." Schiller turned to look at Victor, who appeared somewhat aged under the cold light of the cryo-chamber.

"You've waited so long."

Victor shook his head and said, "It's precisely because I've already waited this long that I don't mind waiting even longer."

"Schiller, I know you want to help me, but this is enough." Victor sighed, a strand of white hair at his temple reflected blue by the light from the cryo-chamber.

"The recent changes have been more than all the previous years combined. Nora's condition has stopped worsening, and the nerve healing medication you provided has begun to gradually repair her nervous system."

"After solving the problem of brain activity in a frozen state, many potential long-term consequences of prolonged hypothermia have also been eliminated..."

He placed One Hand on the cryo-chamber, his gaze inside filled with deep affection and focus. Then he turned to Schiller and said, "It's getting late, Professor Schiller. You should go back now. I'll adjust the cryo-chamber a bit more. See you tomorrow."

Schiller raised his hand and glanced at his watch. It was already 1 a. m. He said, "I have an early class tomorrow, and it's too late to go back to the manor now. Let's stay here and chat."

Victor didn't say much, but the pursed corners of his mouth and the lines on his face seemed to hide all his emotions inside.

Schiller walked to the other table and sat down. While organizing his thesis materials, he asked, "How's it going at the vocational school? I heard you went to extra classes last night?"

"To be honest, it's better than I expected." Victor sighed with some satisfaction when talking about this topic, "Those little rascals may be unruly, but they learn things pretty quickly."

"When are those gang leaders finally going to find teachers for basic education? They can't keep having a university professor teach a bunch of elementary school students, can they?"

"Actually, it's nothing. I have experience in children's education."

"When Nora and I lived in Florida, Nora also taught at a high school. At that time, I hadn't become a professor yet. Nora and I led those kids in activity classes and taught them the principle of water freezing into ice..."

Victor's voice was full of nostalgia. If there was anything wrong with him in terms of interpersonal relationships, it was that no matter what the topic was, he would always recall his life with his wife.

But this is not offensive, because his stories are always full of genuine emotion, and the little things in life always make people feel the happiness of the two people during those peaceful and beautiful days.

"At the time, I lifted the water pipe up like this and asked, 'Does anyone know how water freezes into ice?' You know, that's the kind of tone you use to coax a child..."

"The water pressure in those pipes connected to the fire hydrants was very high. As soon as I opened the valve, a child who was running over was knocked over by the water."

"They didn't seem to feel any danger at all; they thought it was fun. They lined up and rushed towards the water pipe. Nora was furious because her precious class had turned into a water fight, and she complained to me for a week..."

Victor spoke as he adjusted the equipment, his tone light and gentle. Schiller sat at the table working on his paper, but just then, a series of urgent rings shattered the peaceful atmosphere in the lab. Victor picked up the phone and said, "Hello? Oswald? What's wrong? What?... Okay, don't worry, I'll be right there..."

Schiller turned to look at him and asked, "What's wrong?"

"You know those students from the Vocational Education Institute, right?" Victor put down his tools, stood up, and started changing his clothes, looking like he was about to go out.

"That short Oswald, Oswald Cobblepot."

What's wrong with him?

"His mother attempted suicide, but failed. The situation must be very urgent, but he doesn't have the capacity to handle it. I have to go there..."

"I'll go too."

Schiller put on his coat, and Victor went downstairs to get the car. Once they were on the road, Schiller, sitting in the passenger seat, asked, "You and Oswald seem to have a good relationship. Before, I only knew that you admired him."

Victor gripped the steering wheel and drove, the sunlight streaming through the window reflecting on his face. He said, "Oswald is a rare good student. Unlike those bastards whose parents are gangsters, he has clear goals, is very studious, and learns very quickly."

"I think he's a bit like me when I was a child."

Schiller looked Victor up and down and said, "I remember you said you came from a middle-class family and were a top student from childhood."

"Yes, my father worked in shipping. The children of his business partners had gone on ships with their parents at a very young age and were very familiar with their family business."

"But I've always been a bookworm, obsessed with all sorts of chemistry experiments, and have absolutely no interest in doing business."

"Oswald and I are like lettuce mixed into a carrot patch, with ideas that are completely different from those around us."

"Moreover, I don't think he's inherently a bad person."

Victor turned the steering wheel, rounded an intersection, and continued, "His father died too young, and his mother is barely able to take care of herself. It's already a struggle for him to take care of himself, let alone his mother. It's a miracle that someone like him has survived in Gotham. No one can ask more of him..."

"Or rather, he's one of the few normal people in Gotham," Schiller continued, picking up where Victor left off. "Just like you."

"Me? Of course I'm a normal person!... Okay, I know you all think it's a bit crazy that I used a cryo-chamber to freeze my wife, but I'm very confident in my skills, and things have definitely improved, haven't they?"

"I am not among the people you mentioned. I don't think there's anything crazy about it. Perhaps in the future, it will become a very normal medical practice and be widely adopted by every household."

Victor turned around, his eyes filled with both the weariness of life and the hope of a child. He said with a hint of anticipation, "If that day ever comes, perhaps I can take Nora back to my parents' house. Actually, I miss them very much, but..."

Victor's voice lowered, Schiller looked out the window at the scenery, saying, "Actually, they understand you, it's just that you don't want to go back, right?"

"I don't want my outrageous behavior to make them look like oddballs and monsters in the eyes of their neighbors."

Victor is always good at expressing his emotions directly. He can always describe his state of mind very clearly with words, which is why Schiller and he get along so well. Victor is the kind of person who is rare and will not be hypocritical or self-deceiving when facing Schiller.

"They loved me very much. In the early stages of my research on cryogenic chambers, my father sent me a lot of money, and my mother and sister also wrote to me, hoping that I could go back, but I knew that wouldn't work..."

"I can't possibly move such a cryogenic chamber and the living people frozen inside back to my home. My family would then live under the gaze of others who see monsters, and I know very well how hurtful that gaze is."

"But I can't give up on Nora ..." Victor's voice carried a hint of sadness. "Just like she didn't give up on me when my research went wrong and I was fired from the school."

"It will be alright soon." Schiller's tone always carried a calm strength, and then he changed the subject.

"I remember you said before that you and your wife never had a wedding ceremony. How come that's true?"

"Oh, that?" Victor's tone carried a hint of guilt. He said, "Like I mentioned before, when I had just been promoted to professor, an accidental experimental incident cost me my job. At that time, Nora and I were already planning our wedding, but you know, without a stable job, without projects or funding, so..."

"Nora was supporting me back then, and we simply couldn't afford to have a wedding."

"After that, I was hired by a cryogenic laboratory in Los Angeles. After her condition improved, I wanted to prepare a surprise for her, but at that moment, she was diagnosed with neurodegenerative disease..."

"Even with medical insurance, it couldn't cover the cost of traveling to different states for medical treatment. If it weren't for my father's financial assistance, I probably wouldn't have been able to build even the first cryo-chamber."

The car moved slowly, and soon, a light drizzle began to fall in Gotham. The rain was light and gentle, and when it pattered against the car window, it did not interrupt the conversation inside the car.

"Sometimes I think I'm really lucky. Whenever I encounter difficulties, there's always someone to help me. When I lost my job, Nora stayed by my side, and when Nora was sick, my father continued to support me. And when the research stalled again, you appeared again..."

"That's probably just how people are." Victor's voice carried a touch of warmth.

"No matter how bad the situation is, as long as I see a glimmer of hope, I feel very satisfied."

"That's the important thing," Schiller sighed. "Even if you're in Hell, as long as there's a glimmer of hope, you can still live as a human being, instead of falling into Hell and becoming a devil or a complete madman."

"I like to compare this hope to a campfire in a snowfield." Schiller adjusted his posture in his chair. He and Victor often talked about literature and philosophy like this, and it never felt awkward or stiff.

"A traveler who had been traveling for a long time in the snowfield, seeing nothing but snow on the vast white earth, felt colder with every snowflake..."

"But once a glimmer of light appears in the distance, no amount of fierce wind and snow can stop him from moving forward."

"When he walks to this campfire, he will feel warmth, as if the heavy snowfall is not so frightening, but he knows that it is because the previous traveler lit this campfire."

"So, before he left, he took out the few pieces of firewood he had and threw them into the fire, so that the campfire would not go out, no matter whether another traveler came or not."

Victor slowed the car down, smiled, and said, "You could sum this up in one word: a timely help in need."

Schiller shook his head and said, "Offering help in times of need inevitably carries the condescending pity of the successful. I have always believed that the world does not need a savior, Gotham certainly does not."

"If I could, I would prefer to be the traveler who leaves behind the campfire, so that any newcomers, no matter which direction they come from, can stop here. If they really have to thank anyone, then thank themselves for not giving up after such a long journey."

With that, Schiller opened the car door, got out, and walked into the rainy night.

Victor remained silent for a second, then suppressed his emotional expression, turned around, opened the car door, got out, and walked into the cool, rainy night.