In early May, Xu Yan returned to Tai’an. The school had reinstated Qiao Jianbin’s job, paying him a retired teacher’s salary. Reportedly, that episode of “Focus Moment” had caught the attention of high-ranking officials in Beijing, who had called the Family Planning Commission. However, Qiao Jianbin and Wang Yazhen were unsatisfied with the outcome as the matter of compensation remained unresolved. They continued to petition.
Since the program aired, they have given numerous interviews. Qiao Jianbin’s eloquence had improved, his eyes lighting up at the sight of cameras. He proudly told Xu Yan that the reporters admired him, saying society needed stubborn people like him. Wang Yazhen had opened a Weibo account, writing about their family’s ordeals over the years. Her posts were shared by famous journalists and scholars, garnering many comments. Wang Yazhen replied to each comment, even adding some sympathetic commenters on QQ.
This external attention kept them busy, temporarily alleviating their grief over losing their daughter. But when they returned to their immediate reality and realized Qiao Lin was gone forever, their emotions would collapse again. The light in the house was broken, with no one to fix it. The refrigerator reeked, still containing the cake and yogurt Qiao Lin had bought. The lid of the baby formula on the table was left open, its contents clumping. At nightfall, cockroaches became brazen, crawling all over the table. This would set Wang Yazhen off crying again. Qiao Jianbin’s moods were more extreme. Sometimes he’d sit quietly, staring blankly at the liquor bottle on the table. Other times he’d fly into a rage, cursing Qiao Lin for being ungrateful after they’d raised her to adulthood. After crying, Wang Yazhen would sit at the old computer and start writing on Weibo:
“You don’t know how wonderful my eldest daughter was. Beautiful and sensible, with a lively personality, everyone loved her. When I was sad, she always comforted me saying, ‘Mom, it will all pass. There’s nothing in this world that can’t be overcome…'”
As she wrote, she’d start crying again. Xu Yan would sit beside her. Wang Yazhen would turn and embrace her. Xu Yan would gently pat her back, calming her. The computer would chime, and Wang Yazhen would sit up from Xu Yan’s embrace, wiping her tears, saying, “Someone replied to me,” and quickly clicking the mouse.
For the first two days after returning, Xu Yan stayed at a nearby hotel. On the third night, Qiao Lin’s child developed a slight fever, so she stayed to look after her, sleeping in Qiao Lin’s bed. The pillowcase hadn’t been changed, still carrying the scent of Qiao Lin’s shampoo. Resting on it, Xu Yan recalled a childhood wish she had never acknowledged: to sleep in this bed, not with Qiao Lin, but alone. This dilapidated home held an attraction for her; she longed to be a legitimate daughter living in this house.
Throughout her long childhood and adolescence, she had met many outstanding girls – rich, beautiful, smart – but she never wanted to be them. She only wanted to be Qiao Lin. She wanted to replace her, to possess everything she had. Even if those things included pain and misfortune, it didn’t matter. Because she felt those things should have belonged to her. If only Qiao Lin wasn’t there… she had thought countless times. As children, standing by the river, the same sun shone on them, but Xu Yan felt Qiao Lin was in the sunlight while she was in the shadow. If only Qiao Lin wasn’t there… she could take two steps to the right, into the sunlight.
This childhood wish, so sincere and terrifying, had been harbored in her heart, slowly releasing its toxins to the outside world. Many years later, it came true. Qiao Lin was gone. Now she slept in Qiao Lin’s bed, as her parents’ only daughter. Xu Yan buried her face in the pillowcase, sobbing uncontrollably. Could she revoke that wish? Would everything be different? Would Qiao Lin have been happier, and could she have grown into a different person? With Qiao Lin gone, she still couldn’t step into the sunlight. She would forever remain in the shadow.
The infant let out a loud cry. Xu Yan picked her up. In the darkness, the child’s pristine face showed no tear stains or sad expression, as if the previous cry was merely to pull Xu Yan out of her anguish. She gazed quietly at Xu Yan. Her small eyes seemed to hold vast oceans. Xu Yan wanted to confess to them, but even more, she wanted to give all her blessings to their owner. If only her blessings held the same power as her childhood wish. She hoped the child would attain the happiness that she and Qiao Lin could never have.
Xu Yan woke up next to Yu Yiming at 3 AM. The hotel window wouldn’t close properly, letting in the cold wind. It was the start of winter, and Beijing was very cold. Xu Yan had dinner with Yu Yiming, and then went for drinks. Towards the end, Qiao Lin suddenly vanished from their conversation. Xu Yan remembered Yu Yiming staring at her blankly. The subsequent memories were hazy. She couldn’t recall what she or Yu Yiming had said. Whether they had kissed. She felt a bit of pain, or maybe not, just thinking she should feel some pain.
She woke Yu Yiming. He rolled out of bed, grabbing his clothes from the floor. His girlfriend was waiting at home; he had emphasized this point before getting drunk. As he dressed, he told Xu Yan, “I know it’s because you just came to Beijing and are a bit homesick. It’ll get better after a while.”
At the door, Xu Yan called out to him, reaching into her bag. He asked what was wrong. Xu Yan said, “Qiao Lin had something for me to give you.” He stood waiting for a moment, but she still couldn’t find it. He said, “I have to go. We’ll talk about it later,” then opened the door and left.
The pen had always been in a compartment of her backpack. Xu Yan had forgotten to give it to Yu Yiming the last two times they met. Perhaps she wanted a reason to see him again. But now, she desperately wanted to give him that pen. She turned on the light and emptied her bag onto the floor.
Qiao Lin’s child was particularly quiet. After getting through the initial days without her mother, she quickly adapted to her new life. She would fall asleep right after feeding, and when she woke, she would only cry softly for a moment, then wait quietly. When Xu Yan picked her up, the child would press her head against Xu Yan’s chest, as if listening to her heartbeat, a faint smile appearing on her face. Every time Xu Yan put her down, she would whimper twice, causing Xu Yan’s heart to tighten, and she would pick her up again.
It was warm outside, so she carried the child out into the sunshine. The locust trees were in bloom, a thick layer of petals covering the ground, scattered and regathered by the wind. She walked to the riverside and sat on the stone steps, hoping the child would sleep for a while. But the child didn’t sleep, instead watching the river with her. “Can you smell your mother’s scent?” she asked the child. The child smiled.
The child’s name was Qiao Luoqi, chosen by Qiao Lin, but it seemed no one remembered her name. Her parents just called her “the child.” Qiao Lin’s child. They still seemed to view her as a part of Qiao Lin. Her round eyes were very much like Qiao Lin’s. Sometimes, looking into them, Xu Yan felt a desire to talk to Qiao Lin. But she didn’t know what to say; Qiao Lin probably knew everything she wanted to say. Now Qiao Lin knew everything in the world. She knew Xu Yan had returned, that she was with the child, and that she missed her deeply.
On the morning of her departure, Xu Yan took the child for another walk. Passing the train station, she told the child, “There are trains in there, woo-woo, the whistle blows, and then clackety-clack, they leave.”
“When you grow up, will you take the train to visit me?” The child didn’t smile, just looked at her quietly. Xu Yan’s heart tightened, and she grasped the child’s hand. She couldn’t imagine how the child would grow up in such a dilapidated home.
Back at the house, Xu Yan folded the baby clothes hanging at the door and put them in the closet. She saw the paper box, pressed to the bottom of the closet, one corner visible. Opening it, she found the white dress different from her memory – the taffeta wasn’t as stiff, the ruffles not as complex. She put it on the child and carried her to the window. Sunlight sparkled on the small pearls on the chest, like joyful musical notes. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” she whispered to the child. The child nestled softly on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck with her cheek.
Sitting on the train, Xu Yan’s heart raced at the sound of the whistle. She closed her eyes, trying to sleep, but her ears were filled with a buzzing noise. Restless, she unscrewed her water bottle and gulped it down, then stared at the trees and houses flashing by outside the window. As she gradually calmed down, she made a decision. After returning, she would tell Shen Haoming everything. He would find out sooner or later. She wanted to discuss with him the possibility of bringing the child to Beijing when she was a bit older. If possible, she wanted to adopt her.
The driver was waiting at the station to take her to dinner. Shen Haoming had booked a Japanese restaurant. Early in their relationship, they had come here once, looking out from the tatami room’s glass window to see a small Japanese garden, but now it was too late, and the moss-covered stones had turned black. “Let’s have some drinks,” she told Shen Haoming. “I was just about to suggest that,” Shen Haoming said, picking up the drink menu.
The sake arrived, served in a blue glass bottle with a round belly. She clinked glasses with Shen Haoming. He asked, “When will the video air?” She paused for a moment. Shen Haoming said, “The video you shot on this trip.” She said, “Oh, next month, I guess. Not sure how it’ll turn out after editing.” Then she asked Shen Haoming, “Has your mother gone to Paris?” Shen Haoming replied, “Not yet, she leaves next week. They insist on taking Uncle Xu’s private jet.” Xu Yan said, “That’s nice, the four of them can play mahjong on the plane.” Shen Haoming frowned and said, “How boring.”
Outside the window, the garden’s outline was swallowed by the night, leaving only a corner illuminated by the lamps, the stones emitting a faint green glow. Xu Yan drank a glass of wine, looked up at Shen Haoming, and said, “You know, I’ve always thought you have many admirable qualities…” She smiled and continued, “You know I’m not good at expressing myself, but I think you’re exceptionally kind and have a strong sense of justice…” Shen Haoming asked, “Why are you saying this?” She went on, “And you’re very accepting of me.
Our family backgrounds are different, and our lifestyles too. I’m sure many things about me make you uncomfortable…” Shen Haoming interrupted her, “Please don’t say such things.” Xu Yan poured herself another glass of wine, pressing her flushed face against the cup, and said, “I came to Beijing when I was eighteen, not knowing anyone. In my spare time, I tutored, worked as a sales guide, helped host weddings, and earned money to buy clothes for myself, and to eat at Western restaurants.
I just wanted to live a more decent life, you understand? When I was little, we had nothing at home, not even a desk. I had to do my homework on the windowsill… I cherish our current life so much, cherish you, so I’ve always…” Xu Yan began to cry. Shen Haoming frowned as he looked at her, and she felt a chill, not knowing how to continue.
The waiter brought in the dessert. They ate in silence. Shen Haoming poured her some wine and then refilled his glass. Xu Yan took a sip and mustered the courage to say, “My cousin, the one who came to Beijing in winter…” Shen Haoming slammed his glass on the table. Xu Yan was startled. He slumped his shoulders and said, “These past couple of days, I’ve been spending the nights at Fang Lei’s place. Um,” he poured another glass of wine and continued, “I was planning to tell you in a few days, but you’ve described me so well, it makes me feel guilty.
I wasn’t going to hide it from you; you know I hate lying.” Xu Yan nodded blankly. She gripped the sake bottle, wanting to pour another glass, but couldn’t bring herself to lift it. The bottle’s surface was covered in tiny droplets, like a painful secretion. She stared at it and asked softly, “Is this thing between you two just starting, or is it already over?” Shen Haoming remained silent, lighting a cigarette, white smoke rising from between his fingers. Xu Yan used her arm to push herself up from the tatami mat and said, “I’m leaving first. When you’ve figured things out, let me know what you plan to do.”
She opened the door and walked out. Shen Haoming followed, draping her coat over her shoulders, saying, “You forgot to wear your coat again.” Then he embraced her with open arms. Is this the final farewell? Her heart skipped a beat. She pushed him away, ran to the roadside, and hailed a taxi.
Upon returning home, she noticed her body was burning hot, as if feverish. She set an alarm, swallowed two pills, and lay down. “Help me,” she whispered in the darkness. As dawn broke outside, she sensed Qiao Lin’s presence, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back turned, looking back at her. Though Qiao Lin’s gaze promised nothing, it calmed Xu Yan.
The alarm rang multiple times before she struggled to sit up. Glancing at the other side of the bed, it was smooth, showing no signs of anyone having sat there. She took a shower and toasted two slices of bread. A text message appeared on her phone. She didn’t look at it immediately, instead walking over to open the curtains. It was raining outside. She spread apricot jam on her bread and ate slowly. Only after finishing did she pick up her phone and open the message.
Shen Haoming: Let’s break up. I’m sorry.
She drained the milk from her glass, grabbed an umbrella, and left.
After taking ten days off, work had piled up. She recorded three episodes in one go. During a break, the director came to discuss revamping the show: “Can you be more lively? If the ratings stay this low, we’ll have to cancel.” Xu Yan replied, “Then I’ll host a news program.” The director laughed heartily, “Like ‘Focus Moment’? I never knew you had such a sense of social responsibility.”
Xu Yan changed outfits and sat before the mirror to touch up her makeup. She asked the makeup artist, “How about I cut my hair short?” The artist replied, “Hmm, sounds good. Don’t keep the bangs though; they cover your forehead and affect your luck.” Xu Yan smiled, “I’ll take your advice.”
On her way home, Xu Yan stopped at a hair salon. When she left, night had fallen.
The summer breeze felt cool on her neck. She bought two bread rolls at a convenience store and walked home. There was a bar on the way, perhaps newly opened. She peered inside, noticing the warm lighting. She pushed the door open and entered.
The bar was small, with only one man slumped over a table in the corner. She sat at the counter and ordered a mojito. The man from the corner approached, ordering another whiskey. It was her neighbor, surnamed Tang, from across the hall. He nodded at her before returning to his seat.
The bar played muffled electronic music as if something was molding. After her third drink, she felt she should get drunk for once. She’d never tried before; her ex-boyfriends all loved drinking, and she always stayed sober to get them home safely. Someone was tapping on the table. She looked up. The expressionless owner said, “I’m closing up. My girlfriend’s waiting for me at home.” He walked to the corner and woke her neighbor, watching as he spread the money from his pocket on the table, counting it bill by bill.
Xu Yan sat at her grandmother’s doorstep. She was leaving for Beijing tomorrow; her suitcase was packed, but many childhood belongings still needed sorting. She dragged the boxes outside and sat on the doorstep, slowly going through them. Qiao Lin approached. The wind blew her white dress. She held two ice cream cones, melting cream dripping down. She sat beside Xu Yan, handing her the vanilla one.
Qiao Lin said, “I bought a fountain pen. Can you give it to Yu Yiming for me?” They ate their ice cream in silence. A young boy from the neighboring courtyard, about ten years old, walked over and stood watching them. Qiao Lin pointed at the ice cream and said, “I’ll buy you one next time, okay?” The boy remained silent, still standing there.
The ground was littered with odds and ends from the boxes: a vial of essential balm, a tin box of cold cream, a piece of floral-print cloth with raw edges… These not-quite-toys were once Xu Yan’s most cherished possessions. Qiao Lin said, “I think I gave you that cold cream box.” Xu Yan replied, “I traded you a button for it.” “What button?” Qiao Lin asked. Xu Yan said, “It was my favorite button. I can’t believe you don’t remember.” She huffily stuffed the cone into her mouth and got up to wash her hands inside. Suddenly, she heard a clatter behind her.
The neighbor boy had grabbed a kite from the pile and runoff. Qiao Lin called to her, “Come on, let’s get it back!”
The boy reached the end of the alley, turned a corner, and ran towards the main road. A car blocked their path as they crossed, leaving them far behind. But they kept running. The chain on Qiao Lin’s ankle jingled. Her long hair streamed in the wind. Xu Yan caught the scent of shampoo and reached out, trying to grasp a flying strand. Qiao Lin laughed, shaking her head. The boy vanished at the end of the road, but they didn’t stop. Dark clouds rolled overhead. Xu Yan glimpsed the lush lilac tree, suddenly realizing they had covered all the streets they used to walk as children in this short time. Like fast-forwarded movie scenes, frame by frame, unstoppable. Qiao Lin suddenly pulled her arm, pointing at the sky. At the farthest reach of the heavens, a green kite was slowly rising.
Xu Yan stopped, joining Qiao Lin in looking up. The kite trailed two long tails, like a real swallow. It dipped in the strong wind, gliding past the low black clouds before soaring higher.
Xu Yan stood with her neighbor under the bar’s awning. He said, “Looks like it’s raining again.” She laughed, “What does it matter?” He replied, “I hope it rains. It’ll make the ground easier to dig.” Xu Yan shook her short hair, “What do you mean?” He explained, “My dog died. I’m going to bury it later.” “Where is it now?” Xu Yan laughed, “You didn’t freeze it in the fridge, did you?” The neighbor’s face twitched, “I don’t want to go home.
Can we have another drink?” Xu Yan agreed, “Sure, I have alcohol at home.” He asked, “What about your boyfriend?” She replied, “We broke up.” He said, “That’s a shame. By the way, when can I taste your cooking? I often smell it in the hallway. It’s delicious.” Xu Yan said, “It might be takeout.” He insisted, “No, I’ve tried all the takeout around here.” She asked, “Don’t you have a girlfriend?” He replied, “The ones I like don’t like me back.” She said, “You must have some strange habits.” He pondered, “Does eating oranges while taking a bath count?”
The rain intensified, and they started running. Xu Yan stepped into a large puddle, splashing water all over herself. She laughed. Reaching the shelter, her neighbor shook off the rain and turned to ask, “By the way, how’s your cousin doing? Is her child okay?” Xu Yan stopped laughing and looked at him.
He continued, “One night when I was walking my dog, I was shining my flashlight around and suddenly saw a woman lying by the bushes, looking dead. I was about to call security when she opened her eyes and said she was fine, just fainted. I tried to help her up, but she said she wanted to lie there a bit longer. I felt awkward leaving her, so I sat nearby and chatted with her for a while.” Xu Yan asked, “What did she say?” He replied, “I forgot… Oh right, she said, ‘The little one in my belly seems to love Beijing and doesn’t want to leave. I told it, you’ll be back soon, you’ll grow up here…’ Oh, and your cousin also said to remember to bring my dog to play with her child…”
Xu Yan began to cry. Qiao Lin had never mentioned entrusting the child to her. Yet she knew the child would come to Beijing, perhaps trusting in her bond with Xu Yan and understanding Xu Yan’s true nature better than Xu Yan herself did. That heart, wrapped in layers of concealment and pretense, had become unclear even to its owner.
Xu Yan looked at the sky, trying to slow her tears. She nodded, saying, “The child will come soon, to play with your dog…”
The neighbor said, “But my dog died. I’m burying it tonight…”
Xu Yan murmured, “You don’t know how good that child is. So quiet, always giggling when you play with her. A beautiful girl with round eyes, wearing a white dress like a little princess…”
The neighbor replied, “Oh, then I’ll get another dog…”
The sound of rain drowned out his words. Xu Yan stood under the eaves, silently listening to the rain outside. She wasn’t sure if she could care for the child properly, or if she might want to abandon her for her career in the future. She had no confidence in herself. But at this moment, she could feel the warmth in her palm. Some changes were happening within her; she had more patience than before. Perhaps, she thought, she now had the chance to become a different person.