In the summer of 1996, strong winds toppled young bamboo shoots, and a group of four or five-year-old children all widened their eyes to watch the small hailstones falling from the sky.

“These are popsicles! We can eat them!”

The children cheered and reached out with their small hands to catch the hailstones.

Teacher Xiao Zhao was busy changing the pants of a boy in the corner. The little boy’s eyes were lifeless as he looked at the yellow urine on his pants and beneath his wheelchair, not making a sound.

Seeing the naive children outside picking up and tasting hailstones, Teacher Xiao Zhao feared for their lives. She couldn’t worry about the black-haired little boy’s half-removed pants and hurried to bring the children outside back in.

Only four little boys remained in the classroom, along with a little girl sleeping in the front row with a fever.

Among the little boys was a chubby one named Chen Hu. True to his name, he had a tiger-like appearance, exceptionally healthy, with two patches of rosy red on his plump white cheeks, his build a full size larger than the other children.

Chen Hu rolled his eyes. He had been watching the unprecedented hailstones outside, but being close, he caught the smell of urine. Twitching his nose, he turned back to see Pei Chuan in the wheelchair pulling up his own pants.

Unfortunately, below his knees was nothing but empty space, making it impossible for him to even use leverage.

After a long struggle, he could only barely pull up the urine-stained pants enough to cover his private parts.

Chen Hu looked at the urine on the floor and said in the sharp, incredulous tone of a child: “Look! Pei Chuan wet his pants! It’s all over the floor.”

Several boys in the classroom turned around and covered their mouths.

“He’s so dirty!”

“I just saw it, Teacher Zhao was changing his pants!”

“He’s still wearing those pants, look at where he peed, eww!”

Pei Chuan’s pale, thin little face flushed with the red tide of shame. He bit his lip and yanked down a picture book to cover the soaked area at his crotch. Trembling, his gaze turned toward the teacher outside the kindergarten.

Teacher Xiao Zhao carried in the last child and scolded the children: “That’s called hail, you’re not allowed to eat it, understand! The teacher will notify your parents to pick you up shortly!”

Worried the children wouldn’t listen, she put on a stern face and said: “If you eat hail, little children will never grow tall!”

At these words, several children immediately turned pale, tears welling in their eyes, and began wailing.

“Teacher, will I never grow tall again…”

Teacher Xiao Zhao said: “Of course not, just eat more rice tonight and you’ll be fine.”

The innocent children broke into smiles through their tears.

However, innocence can sometimes be most cruel. The chubby boy pointed his radish-like finger at Pei Chuan: “Teacher Zhao, Pei Chuan wet his pants!”

At these words, Teacher Xiao Zhao remembered the child in the corner still had his pants halfway off. However, the chubby boy had shouted loudly, and everyone in the class heard.

Pei Chuan trembled, large tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t mean to, he didn’t mean to…

Immediately, the children’s tender voices of discussion arose.

“I stopped wetting my pants when I was three!”

“Mommy says children who wet their pants are dirty.”

“Pei Chuan has no legs, and he still wets his pants. We won’t play with him anymore!”

“If we play with him, we’ll wet our pants too!”

…

The chirping voices finally woke the little girl sleeping in the front row with a fever.

Her cheeks flushed, her long eyelashes trembled, and she opened her misty eyes.

Strong winds blew, moving her two pigtails. Bei Yao blinked sluggishly, her breath burning hot. This tender body had no strength. She clearly remembered dying, so how could she…

She looked down, straightened up from the small round table, and gazed at her own soft, chubby little hands still bearing dimples.

Behind her, countless people were calling out Pei Chuan’s name. Bei Yao’s breath caught, and she turned around with an expression of disbelief.

The faded scenes in her memory suddenly became vivid, crushing through the years. Teacher Xiao Zhao was only twenty-six this year, carrying the gentleness and vitality of a young female teacher.

The children looked at the small figure huddled in the corner with united hostility, showing expressions of disgust.

Through the crowd, Bei Yao could only see the large wheels of the wheelchair and the stiff body of the small child above them.

He bit his lip and raised his head, his eyes appearing especially striking in black and white against his thin cheeks, looking at these naive, unknowing children. The next second he quieted down, his eyes filled with tears as he looked at his own pants.

Pei… Pei Chuan…

Though only a glimpse, Bei Yao was absolutely certain this was Pei Chuan from childhood.

A five-year-old little boy who, because his legs had just been severed and he couldn’t control his bodily functions, wet his pants in class. This scene faded from everyone’s memory, replaced by the image eighteen years later of that frantically obsessive yet utterly cold computer genius.

To many people, he was a ruthless, merciless devil who crazily researched software detrimental to social stability.

But the devil Pei Chuan was now just a fragile child who had recently lost both legs.

“Bei Yao,” a little girl said, “we won’t play with him anymore either!”

Bei Yao was not yet four years old, the youngest child in the class.

Bei Yao couldn’t remember how she had answered in her previous life, but she must have agreed.

Urinating all over the kindergarten floor was, for all the naive children, something shameful.

Moreover, that child was frightening—his lower legs below the knees had been severed at the root, the lower half of his pants hanging empty. The children were both scared and curious.

The classroom descended into chaos. Parents picking up their children also hurried over because of the hail. Teacher Zhao pushed the wheelchair away—mindful of the little boy’s dignity, she needed to quickly take Pei Chuan to the bathroom to change his pants, then organize the children to go home.

Bei Yao weakly watched Pei Chuan being wheeled away, her sick voice as faint as a kitten’s: “Pei Chuan…”

No one heard, so no one looked back.

She suddenly remembered twenty-three-year-old Pei Chuan, sitting expressionlessly in his wheelchair, his voice stiff and hard as he promised to protect her for life. Little Bei Yao stood dazed, gently sighing as she lay on the table.

Could it be that because he gave too much in the previous life, this life she had come back to repay the debt?

~

“Pei Chuan, don’t be sad. Your classmates will forget about it tomorrow. Teacher has cream-filled cookies here, would you like one?”

Pei Chuan said in a low voice: “Want to go home.”

“Then wait for mommy to come, okay?”

Pei Chuan’s fingertips were pale. He lowered his head and said nothing more.

This year there were no cell phones. The few people who had “big brother” phones mostly had status and position, which Teacher Xiao Zhao did not.

Pei Chuan’s mother was a surgeon who sometimes worked late into the night on operations. His father was the captain of the criminal police squad—his position was significant, and his work was also busy. Neither of their jobs allowed for carelessness. The little boy would occasionally ask neighbors to pick him up.

Like Bei Yao’s parents, or the parents of children like Chen Hu and Fang Mingjun. They would bring him home along with their own children.

Parents gradually arrived at the school. Teacher Xiao Zhao had to watch the children, and today the other female teacher had taken leave, placing the heavy burden on her alone, leaving her overwhelmed. Teacher Xiao Zhao pushed Pei Chuan, now in clean pants, back to the classroom and gave him building blocks to play with.

Pei Chuan kept his head lowered and never moved.

Bei Yao looked at him with complicated eyes.

If a person’s life could start over, what would Bei Yao most want to do?

Of course, stay far away from that scumbag Huo Xu, be filial to her parents for life—completely unrelated to Pei Chuan. That is, if Pei Chuan hadn’t left such a profound mark before her death.

Her feelings toward Pei Chuan were very complicated.

The hail fell relentlessly, growing larger and larger. From time to time, parents hurrying over complained: “Oh what terrible weather, bright sunshine this morning, and ice chunks falling this afternoon.”

Then those with bicycles rode bicycles, those without carried their children and ran. The children waved: “Goodbye Teacher Zhao!”

“Goodbye Xiao Wei! Goodbye Lili!”

Soon, Bei Yao’s mother, Zhao Zhilan, also arrived with an umbrella.

In 1996, Ms. Zhao Zhilan was still young, with no fine lines at the corners of her eyes. Her blue short-sleeved shirt was crisp, radiating vitality.

Bei Yao’s gaze moved from Pei Chuan to look at Zhao Zhilan rushing over in a flurry, and her eyes immediately moistened.

Zhao Zhilan picked her up: “Oh you troublesome daughter, why are you crying? Were you scared by the hail?”

Bei Yao shook her head and lay on the woman’s back, somewhat choked up. Parents treat their children best in this world—this was a truth many people knew but hadn’t truly felt.

“Here, hold the umbrella. Mommy will carry you on her back. I can’t spare my hands, so you hold the umbrella here on my shoulder, just touch it and that’s enough.”

Zhao Zhilan greeted Teacher Xiao Zhao and left carrying her daughter.

Bei Yao held the umbrella with her small hands. After thinking for a long while, she turned her head back.

The little boy Pei Chuan in the corner wasn’t looking at her.

Chen Hu’s father was the earliest to pick him up from class. The chubby boy rode on his father’s shoulders, showing off triumphantly and proudly.

Fang Mingjun’s grandmother, wearing an apron, also took her granddaughter home.

Then came Bei Yao’s mother…

Bei Yao followed his gaze. Pei Chuan’s eyes had fallen on a small patch of wet ground nearby. This was what Teacher Xiao Zhao had left behind when she hastily mopped up the urine.

She remembered the man’s cold yet gentle kiss eighteen years later. Looking at Pei Chuan again, her heart ached shallowly.

This remarkable figure from the future world was, in his young and tender years, so fragile and lonely.

Bei Yao moved her fingers. She wanted to look at Pei Chuan again, but Zhao Zhilan had already carried her far away in one breath.

Pei Chuan raised his eyes, his pitch-black eyes falling on the little girl’s back as her mother carried her away.

They walked farther and farther, finally disappearing from sight.

The hail fell overhead with crackling sounds, lively as firecrackers. Bei Yao had no strength, couldn’t even speak, burning with fever and dizzy. In the classroom, only one little boy with jet-black pupils remained, sitting in his wheelchair.

The kindergarten wasn’t far from home, but it was far from where Zhao Zhilan worked. Zhao Zhilan was quick on her feet and brought Bei Yao home through the hail in ten minutes.

The little girl had fallen asleep from the fever.

That evening, she woke from her fever in a daze. Zhao Zhilan was wiping her back with alcohol, sighing helplessly: “When did you get this fever? You didn’t even tell the teacher. I hope you haven’t been burned stupid.”

Bei Licai came in from outside to check on his daughter too. Just now when Bei Yao was burning up like that, the couple had been terrified. Fortunately, Bei Yao’s youngest uncle ran a small pharmacy and was a doctor. He came to examine her and prescribe medicine. Otherwise, in this weather, they couldn’t even take her to the hospital.

In 1996, Bei Yao was the only child in the family. Her younger brother Bei Jun hadn’t been born yet. As first-time parents, the couple was particularly meticulous in caring for their child.

Bei Licai touched his daughter’s soft cheeks: “She’s better, not so hot anymore.”

“She won’t go to kindergarten tomorrow. Just tell Teacher Xiao Zhao when you leave in the morning.”

Bei Yao was half-dreaming, half-awake when she suddenly heard her parents mention Pei Chuan.

Zhao Zhilan: “No one picked up that child today. I saw that Juan’er still hasn’t gotten off work, and Pei Jianguo hasn’t come home yet!”

“Such a small child, his whole life ruined like that, ah…”

Her parents’ small sighs drifted into her dreams.

Bei Yao remembered that cold man from years later, struggling to fall from his wheelchair to embrace her.

They all said he was a devil. She too was somewhat afraid of his silent, taciturn manner.

But this devil was now just a little boy.

When daylight fully broke, Bei Yao opened her eyes. The fever had subsided considerably.

Zhao Zhilan was making breakfast. Bei Yao’s bedroom door was open.

Bei Licai entered and went to the kitchen: “I just went to request leave from Teacher Xiao Zhao, but she said…”

Bei Yao looked through the old living room furniture. She heard the heavy sigh.

“Pei Chuan… no one picked him up all night long…”

Bei Yao was stunned.

Last night the temperature had dropped—the coldest summer night. Pei Chuan hadn’t been able to wait for a single person in the entire world.