The Life-saving Glue

Li Ming felt like his legs were practically part of his electric scooter. Raindrops, like cheap beads from a clearance sale, hammered his helmet, trickled down his neck, and seeped towards his hot, aching back. This city, this steel jungle, always had a way of throwing cold water on you—literally and figuratively—right when you were most exhausted.

His 37th order of the day was from a pharmacy called "Recovery Home". The destination: an old residential building, seventh floor, no elevator. Li Ming panted his way up, silently chanting the mantra "the customer is God," even if this particular god lived inconveniently high up and forced him to climb stairs.

"Ding-dong—" The doorbell was the old-fashioned kind, its ring raspy, like it had a sore throat. No one answered.

Li Ming pressed it again, a bit harder. Still nothing. He took out his phone, dialed the number listed on the order.

"Beep... beep... The number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable..." The robotic female voice felt colder than the rain outside.

He glanced at the time. Pickup for the next order was looming. The app's timer ticked down relentlessly, like a menacing pendulum. Usually, he'd hang the bag on the doorknob, snap a photo, mark it "Delivered," and race down the stairs like the wind, off to the next battle. But this time, the plastic bag felt significant in his hand. Inside was a small medicine box. Scribbled hastily on the bag by the pharmacy staff were the words: "Grandpa Wang - Urgent Use."

"Urgent Use." The words pricked Li Ming's heart like tiny needles. He wasn't a doctor, not a savior, just a delivery driver responsible for getting things from A to B. But what if... what if this medicine was life-saving? What if Grandpa Wang inside was in dire need? He imagined a solitary old man, perhaps having fallen, perhaps suffering a heart attack, lying helpless on the cold floor.

No, he couldn't just leave it like this. Li Ming scratched his head, annoyed, rainwater running from his hair into his stinging eyes. He called out towards the door again, louder this time: "Grandpa Wang? Grandpa Wang! Your medicine's here!"

The empty hallway only echoed his voice, now tinged with a hint of desperation.

Five minutes crawled by. The system chimed sharply, demanding he either confirm delivery or explain the delay. Li Ming clenched his jaw, making a decision that might very well cost him his bonus for the month. He turned and went back down the stairs. The rain had intensified. He mounted his scooter and rode back the way he came, battling the wind and rain, heading for the "Recovery Home" pharmacy.

Inside the brightly lit pharmacy, a pharmacist in a white coat was tidying shelves. He looked up, surprised to see Li Ming back again.

"What happened? Wrong address?" the pharmacist asked, adjusting his glasses.

"No," Li Ming said, wiping rainwater from his face. "The Grandpa Wang on the seventh floor... I can't reach him, and he's not answering the door. I came back to ask... this medicine he ordered... is it extremely important? I mean... could it be life-saving?"

The pharmacist paused, then frowned. "I can't really disclose patient information due to privacy rules. However..." He hesitated, glancing at Li Ming's drenched state and worried face. "Well... let's just say it's not an immediate life-or-death kind of medication, but it is important that he takes it regularly. Maybe try waiting a little longer? Or is there family you could contact?"

"No other contact info on the order," Li Ming sighed. "Alright, got it. Thanks."

The pharmacist looked as if he wanted to add something but simply waved. "Drive safely."

Back on his scooter, Li Ming felt a bit of relief, though the nagging worry hadn't entirely disappeared. Not life-saving, good. But "needs to be taken regularly" was still enough to keep him concerned. He decided to go back for one final check. If still no one answered, he'd have no choice but to leave the package, take the proof photo, and go. He had a living to make, after all.

Hauling himself up the seven flights once more, Li Ming felt like a character trapped in a repetitive, boring game loop. He reached the familiar door, ready to knock again, but stopped. It was slightly ajar, revealing a narrow gap.

"Grandpa Wang?" Li Ming called out hesitantly, pushing the door open wider.

The apartment was dark, filled with the faint scent of old paper and dust. Scattered across the living room floor were hundreds of tiny, colorful squares. A small, thin figure was hunched over them, utterly engrossed, using tweezers to meticulously pick up the pieces and place them into a large stamp album.

It was an old man with thinning white hair—Grandpa Wang. He appeared completely absorbed in his task, totally unaware that Li Ming had entered.

Li Ming felt a mixture of amusement and exasperation. He walked closer and said, louder this time, "Grandpa Wang! Your medicine!"

The old man gave a start, nearly dropping his tweezers. He looked up, peering at Li Ming with a bewildered expression. "Eh? What? You... delivery?"

"Yes! Your medicine! I knocked and called for ages, but you didn't respond!" Li Ming handed him the bag, a touch of grievance in his voice, quickly overshadowed by relief.

"Oh, oh! I'm so sorry, so sorry!" Grandpa Wang accepted the package, smiling sheepishly and pointing to his ear. "Getting old, my hearing's gone bad. Didn't hear the doorbell. And I was so focused on organizing my treasures here," he patted the stamp album on the floor, "that I put my phone on silent. Didn't want to break my concentration. My apologies for making you worry, young man."

"It's alright, no worries. Glad you have it now." Li Ming waved dismissively, ready to head out.

"Hey, hold on!" Grandpa Wang stopped him. He picked up the medicine box from a nearby table, gave it a little shake, and grinned mysteriously. "Thank you, young man! This really is my 'life-saving medicine'!"

Li Ming paused, confused. He recalled what the pharmacist had said, and a knot of worry tightened in his stomach again. "You... you're not feeling sick, are you?"

"Hahaha!" Grandpa Wang roared with laughter. "Not like that! I'm perfectly healthy!" He set the medicine box down and picked up a small brown glass bottle from the table, its label reading "Strong Model Glue."

"See this?" he said, holding up the bottle. "This is my real 'life-saving medicine'! I knocked it over just before you arrived, spilled it all over my precious stamps here, nearly destroyed my collection! I was just despairing because I had no glue left to fix them back into the album!"

Li Ming stood there, utterly dumbfounded. He stared at the glue bottle in Grandpa Wang's hand, then at the perfectly ordinary box of cold medicine he'd gone to such trouble to deliver.

Grandpa Wang didn't notice Li Ming's stunned silence and rambled on, "You see, I have this old friend... he collects cold medicine boxes. Says there's something special about the different designs, the packaging from various companies and print runs. So, whenever I catch a cold, I keep the box for him. When I get a few, I mail them off. I was just about to wrap this one up when my hand slipped and... whoops! Over went the glue bottle next to it. Oh well! Thanks to you bringing this 'medicine' – even if it wasn't the 'medicine' I urgently needed for my stamps – your trip wasn't for nothing. It proved to me there are still good-hearted young folks like you around, willing to put yourself out for an old man."

He picked up the cold medicine box, admiring the packaging. "Look at this design, the way the colors work together... tsk, tsk, truly a piece of art! For my old friend, this little box, well, isn't it its own kind of 'life-saving medicine'? Without it, his collection wouldn't be complete. It would leave a hole, you know?"

Li Ming stood there. Outside, the rain seemed to be easing up slightly. He watched Grandpa Wang gently handle the common cold medicine box, then glanced at the scattered stamps and the spilled glue. Suddenly, he felt that his frantic efforts, his extra trip, maybe hadn't been completely wasted.

He managed a smile and waved to the old man. "Take care now, Grandpa Wang. I should get going."

"Okay then! Be careful on your way!"

Li Ming turned and descended the stairs, his steps significantly lighter than before. The bonus was likely lost, and he was drenched, but somewhere deep inside, a void felt filled. Perhaps by the rainwater, perhaps by something else entirely. He felt he hadn't just delivered a box of cold pills, nor just a bottle of misidentified "life-saving glue," but something more intricate, more profound.

In this cold, concrete jungle, maybe a small act of unintended kindness could act like a drop of glue itself, quietly forging unexpected bonds of warmth and connection. Li Ming mounted his scooter, merging back into the flow of traffic in the rainy night, a single drop moving through the city. But this time, he didn't feel quite so much like just another indifferent gear in the urban machinery.