1

Fifteen years ago, Gao Xiang had indeed nearly lost his life in Ali. His memories of Cuoqin were almost entirely blank, like the overwhelming snowfall that blanketed the sky that day.

After their unexpected encounter on the road to Cuoqin County, Zuo Xuejun’s vehicle led the way while Old Zhang and Dorje drove the other two cars following behind. Seventy kilometers from the county seat, Gao Xiang, who had been suffering from headaches and coughing, suddenly began vomiting violently and quickly fell into a coma.

When he woke up, he found himself lying in a hospital bed. Sun Ruodi saw him open his eyes, immediately stood up to embrace him, and burst into tears of joy.

“Hey, what happened? Where am I?”

“This is Cuoqin Hospital. You had an upper respiratory infection that developed into acute high-altitude pulmonary edema. You’ve been unconscious for nearly three days. The doctor said fortunately we supplied you with pure oxygen in time and got you here promptly, otherwise…” She remained shaken, nearly crying out loud.

He weakly raised his hand to wipe away her tears: “Don’t be afraid, I’m fine now. Where’s Xiao An? Still with her father?”

“Several townships in Cuoqin experienced snow disasters, so County Magistrate Zuo went to arrange disaster relief. Xiao An was probably terrified by your condition—she’s been staying at the hospital refusing to leave these past few days. I just had Shi Wei take her to get something to eat.”

“Sigh, my timing for getting sick was really unfortunate, preventing her from spending proper time with her father.”

“Her father will naturally come back after arranging the work.” She held his hand. “You scared me to death. I was thinking about whether to call your mother today.”

“Why tell her and make her worry?”

“Before we left, she kept reminding me to make sure you called her at every place we visited. With your illness, you haven’t contacted her for several days—she must be worried.”

“You’re right. Go call her then, just say I have a minor cold and will be back a few days late. It’s nothing.”

Like many places in Ali, Cuoqin had no mobile communication signal at the time, so Sun Ruodi could only walk out to find a public phone. Gao Xiang lay in the hospital bed, taking his first good look at his surroundings. The conditions here were extremely rudimentary. In the adjacent bed lay an elderly man who looked like a herdsman, his hair and beard white, appearing very old and weak. He was conversing with his family in Tibetan, his voice intermittent and often interrupted by violent coughing fits, requiring him to rest for quite a while before continuing.

Gao Xiang watched with alarm. He had always prided himself on being young and healthy, but this was the first time he had fallen so seriously ill—and in the highlands with a potentially fatal disease at that. After waking, he felt completely weak throughout his body. Just exchanging a few words with Sun Ruodi seemed to exhaust all his energy, making him almost no different from the old man beside him. What was worse, he had almost no recollection of the past few days’ experiences, only a vague memory of cool fingers brushing across his forehead to wipe away sweat. He stared at the mottled ceiling above, thinking about how seemingly robust lives were actually fragile and vulnerable. Having unknowingly circled the edge between life and death, he couldn’t help feeling somewhat frightened and somewhat reflective.

“Do you want some water?”

He started, only then discovering that Zuo Si’an had entered at some point and was standing at the foot of his bed looking at him. He shook his head.

“Then do you want to eat something?”

He had no appetite and shook his head again. She stared at him blankly, tears glistening and swirling in her eyes. She clearly wanted to cry but was trying hard to hold it back. For some reason, he suddenly couldn’t help finding it amusing and asked: “What’s your name?”

She was immediately shocked, mouth agape, unable to speak.

“Where is this? How did I end up here?”

“You… can’t remember anything?” she asked cautiously.

“It’s very blurry,” he said, making an effort to recall, “I just feel like you look somewhat familiar.”

Zuo Si’an became so anxious she didn’t know what to do and burst into tears. Only then did he realize the joke had probably gone too far and said: “Hey, hey, hey, don’t cry.”

At this moment Sun Ruodi entered: “What’s wrong?”

Zuo Si’an sobbed softly: “Sister Ruodi, he seems to have lost his memory.”

Sun Ruodi looked at Gao Xiang in alarm. Gao Xiang made a gesture of surrender. She relaxed and laughed while scolding: “You really are something, making such boring jokes right after waking up.”

Zuo Si’an suddenly understood, both embarrassed and annoyed. She glared fiercely at him, turned and ran out. Gao Xiang said weakly: “Ruodi, go apologize for me quickly, tell her not to run around.”

“I get out of breath walking a few steps, yet you want me to chase after her. Don’t worry, this county town is only the size of a palm—where could she run to?”

Gao Xiang struggled to sit up. Sun Ruodi had no choice but to hold him down: “Alright, alright, you lie still and don’t move. I’ll go.”

It was quite a while before she returned: “Don’t worry, her father just came back to take charge of her. You don’t usually joke around this much—what made you tease her for no reason.”

He smiled: “Suddenly realizing I’d escaped death, I couldn’t resist the urge to celebrate with a prank.” Sun Ruodi also smiled, but her eyes suddenly reddened. She said softly: “I told your mother you had a cold. She knew immediately from my tone that you were seriously ill. I spent ages reassuring her, practically swearing you were fine, before she stopped pressing. You absolutely must get better.”

He raised his hand to touch her hair: “It’s okay, I will get better.”

Acute high-altitude pulmonary edema comes on extremely dangerously, and delayed diagnosis and treatment can even be fatal. Abroad, the general approach is to use helicopters or similar transportation to quickly transfer patients to lower altitudes, but this was obviously difficult to achieve in Cuoqin. Fortunately, the county hospital had rich clinical experience treating this condition and handled it properly, pulling Gao Xiang out of danger. He remained bedridden receiving IV drips for three more full days before the doctor agreed to discharge him.

Xiao Yun had been feeling unwell the whole time, and Da Ming was also rushing to get home to work, so Old Zhang drove them back to Lhasa first. Shi Wei said she wasn’t in a hurry to return, so she and Tibetan driver Dorje stayed behind to wait for Gao Xiang’s discharge before setting out.

Zuo Xuejun came to see them off. He helped them replenish their supplies, instructed Dorje to be careful on the road, patted Zuo Si’an, and said: “Go home and listen to your mother.”

Zuo Si’an’s head hung very low. Until the car started, she hadn’t said a word, much less looked outside.

Dorje drove while Gao Xiang sat in the passenger seat. Only now did he notice that Cuoqin was even more impoverished and backward than he’d expected. The streets weren’t particularly narrow but were muddy and uneven. Along both sides of the road were almost entirely single-story flat-roofed houses made of mud bricks, low and crude. Compared to Qinggang County where he was born, this place didn’t look like a county seat at all—it was more like a dilapidated small town. The weather had already cleared. Sunlight shone directly and unobstructed onto the accumulated snow that hadn’t melted, dazzling people’s eyes. In the rearview mirror, Zuo Xuejun’s figure grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared from view.

Although Gao Xiang had no relationship with him, he couldn’t help feeling the scene contained a desolate and barren quality—as if that man had been abandoned at the end of this world almost isolated from civilization. Meanwhile, Zuo Si’an sitting in the back left seat had already buried her head between her hands, exposing her slender neck, her shoulders slightly trembling—clearly unable to hold back her tears any longer.

Sun Ruodi sat behind him on the right, exchanging glances with him, also feeling somewhat heartbroken. Just as she was about to speak, Shi Wei, sitting in the middle of the back seat, put her arm around Zuo Si’an: “Xiao An, the other day Dorje and I went to the elementary school in the county town. The children living there all know your father. They all really like him and say he’s amazing.”

Nothing could comfort Zuo Si’an more than these words. She lifted her tear-streaked face: “Why?”

“There’s only this one elementary school in all of Cuoqin County. The students are all herdsmen’s children. Their homes are anywhere from hundreds to over a thousand kilometers from the school, so they all must board, only able to return home once or twice a year. They said that as soon as your father arrived in Cuoqin, he often went to visit them, bringing them school supplies, using his spare time to help them with their studies, and repairing their classrooms and dormitories. Since he can’t take care of you, he must have channeled all his love for you to those children whose parents aren’t by their side.”

Zuo Si’an stopped crying and took the tissue Sun Ruodi handed her to wipe away her tears: “But I want him to come home.”

“I know. Only people with firm beliefs and sufficient courage would choose to work in such a harsh place. Your father is such a person—he’s amazing, full of love and dedication. Xiao An, remember this—you should be proud of him. When he finishes the work there, he’ll come home to be with you.”

Gao Xiang knew that working in the Ali region required paying an enormous price, and voluntarily requesting to go to Cuoqin meant constantly facing life-and-death trials. However, he didn’t think much of Shi Wei praising Zuo Xuejun in such an idealistic and romantic way. But when he looked again at Zuo Si’an, she was quietly leaning in Shi Wei’s embrace. Although tear tracks remained on her face and her eyes were dim, she seemed to have gained at least some comfort.

He thought, after all, she was still a child and didn’t need to face all the cruel truths. Confirming that she had a heroic father was much better than recognizing that he was merely using a harsh choice to escape reality.

2

After returning to Lhasa, Gao Xiang’s group said goodbye to Tibetan driver Dorje, took a flight to Chengdu. Shi Wei just made it onto that day’s flight back to Shenzhen, while Gao Xiang and Sun Ruodi checked into a hotel with Zuo Si’an, planning to return to Hanjiang the next day. After putting down their luggage, Sun Ruodi was full of energy and excitedly went to visit a high school classmate studying at university in Chengdu. Gao Xiang didn’t accompany her, staying with Zuo Si’an to rest in their respective rooms.

Gao Xiang took a shower and went to bed to sleep. When he woke, it was already eight o’clock in the evening. He went to knock on the adjacent room’s door. After quite a while, Zuo Si’an opened the door just a crack and asked: “What is it?”

They had traveled together for over ten days, and when conditions were rudimentary, they could only stay at roadside inns sleeping together in large communal beds. Now she was suddenly acting so reserved—he was somewhat puzzled: “Come on, I’ll take you out to dinner.”

“I have no appetite, I don’t want to eat.”

Her voice was low and hoarse as she spoke, about to close the door. He reached out to block it, pushing the door open a bit more. Only one bedside lamp was on in the room. She immediately turned her head away, but he had already seen that her eyes were red and swollen, with tear tracks still on her face—she had clearly just been crying.

“What’s wrong?” She didn’t answer, trying to push the door closed, but she was no match for his strength. Annoyed, she let go of the door, turned and went into the bathroom, closing and locking the door firmly.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He walked in and called to her through the bathroom door: “Xiao An, if something’s wrong, come out and talk.”

She still ignored him. He stood helplessly for a while, then had to use a sympathy tactic: “Xiao An, I suddenly feel very dizzy. Could you pour me a glass of water?”

She indeed responded immediately, rushing out in a panic to help him sit on the chair by the bed. She poured him a glass of water and asked: “Is the dizziness very severe? Is anything else uncomfortable? Should we go to the hospital?”

“It’s not that serious. This is probably what Old Zhang mentioned the other day—’oxygen intoxication.’ Suddenly coming down from high-altitude oxygen-poor areas to the plains, the body can’t adapt to the oxygen content in the air and has various physiological reactions. Like how Ruodi suddenly became cheerful and insisted on going out to play—I just get drowsy and dizzy. No need to be nervous, I’ll be fine after sitting for a bit.”

She still wasn’t reassured, raising her hand to feel her own forehead first, then testing the temperature of his forehead. He guessed this was probably the habitual way her parents checked when she wasn’t feeling well. Her focused expression made him both amused and touched.

“Xiao An, sit down.” She sat in the chair beside him. “Are you worried about your father?” She lowered her head without answering. “Conditions there are indeed harsh, but don’t forget, the human body has the ability to adjust and adapt. Your father will be fine.”

Her lips pressed tightly together. He sighed: “You’ve been unhappy ever since we left Cuoqin. If it’s inconvenient to talk to me about it, then promise me you’ll have a good talk with your mother when you get back.”

She still didn’t make a sound.

“Shutting yourself in your room crying alone won’t solve any problems.”

She said somewhat embarrassed and annoyed: “Do I have to cry in front of you to make you pity me even more?”

“Xiao An, how can you think that way?” She was about to stand up, but he got up to stop her, crouching in front of her to look into her eyes. “I don’t pity you.”

“Hey, that’s a lie. I told you before, I’m not stupid.” Tears pooled in her eyes. She seemed to want to force a smile but didn’t succeed, her expression both heartbroken and bitter. “I was crazy to insist on going to Tibet to see my father. Even my mother thought I was being unreasonable, but you agreed right away to take me there, and you nearly died in Cuoqin. If it wasn’t pity, why would you do that?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t take a stranger to such a distant place, but you’re not a stranger to me. And I know you’re going through a very difficult period, bearing more than you can handle. You wanted to see your father, I could help—it’s that simple.”

“It’s not simple at all. If something had happened…” She couldn’t continue.

“Shi Wei told me that after I fell into a coma in Cuoqin, you repeatedly begged your father to find the best doctors. When Ruodi couldn’t hold on anymore and went to rest, you still stayed by the hospital bed watching over me. I know you hate hospitals, but you could say you also saved me. Neither of us owes the other anything. You don’t need to feel guilty and blame yourself over this anymore.”

“Again treating me like a child to coax. Last time you even lied to me saying you’d lost your memory.”

He remembered that scene in the hospital and couldn’t help laughing: “Alright, I won’t joke around with you anymore. Stop holding a grudge.”

“How could I possibly hold a grudge against you? You’re practically the only person who still jokes around with me.”

Gao Xiang froze.

“When I went to Cuoqin to see my father this time, the first moment he looked at me, I knew—I was too foolish to think I could tell him I was still the same as before. The expression he looked at me with was like looking at a stranger…”

Mentioning her father, Zuo Si’an could no longer hold back and suddenly burst into tears. She immediately buried her face in her hands, trying to stop her crying. Gao Xiang hesitated for a moment, then stood up and embraced her. Her body tensed from trying hard to control herself, curling into a ball and trembling. He held her as he sat down, pressing her face against the left side of his chest, gently patting her back. This was a discovery he’d made after becoming increasingly skilled at holding Baobao—this position was most effective at soothing a crying child. However, Zuo Si’an was after all not an infant. She buried her face in his chest, her thin shoulders heaving, sporadic sobs escaping. Tears quickly soaked through his shirt, with no sign of stopping.

“Your father was just too surprised. You can’t speculate about him like that.”

“I don’t… don’t need to speculate. The way he used to look at me was different.”

He knew he couldn’t make a child who had once been adored by her father accept deception and begin self-deception. He could only say: “But he really didn’t expect you would come see him.”

“He didn’t want to talk to me,” she sobbed, her voice breaking. “His eyes… always looked somewhere else. When he had no choice but to look at me, I… didn’t dare look at him either.”

“Xiao An, you’re only fourteen years old.”

“No, in half a month I’ll be fifteen.”

“Alright, fifteen. Some things have indeed happened, but your life is still very long—you have enough time to get back on the right track. You and your family all need time to process this. Wait until three years later when your father comes back…”

“Even if he comes back, we can never go back.”

A girl not yet fifteen speaking about “never going back” in such anguished tones—he thought, what she hoped to return to could only be the childhood that had just ended. She was still just a child after all, crushed by fear and loneliness until she couldn’t breathe, not even willing to cry out loud freely. He held her more tightly. Her crying gradually stopped. Only then did he pick her up, lay her on the bed, went to the bathroom to wring out a hot towel, and came back to place it over her swollen eyes.

She said hoarsely: “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.”

“I… don’t know why I feel so terrible. Being in this place, as far from home as from Uncle Li, it’s like I can never find home again. I won’t be like this again, really. You’ve already helped me so much, you don’t owe me anything, I won’t…”

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her seriously: “Xiao An, if you need help and I happen to be able to give it, just accept it openly. Whether it’s me or someone else, if our concern makes you uncomfortable or unhappy, you of course also have the right to refuse it. I hope I can help you, but I can’t live your life for you. The most important thing is, you’ll gradually grow up and face many things on your own in the future, living a normal life. Remember, the worst part has already passed—there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“But that part hasn’t passed. I try desperately to forget but still can’t,” her tears surged out again from under the towel. “It’s like knowing I’m having a nightmare but being unable to wake up no matter what.”

The despair in her voice came so heavily that he could only hold her slightly trembling hand, trying to say calmly and steadily: “It will all pass, Xiao An. Time can solve many problems.”

The towel covered half her face. Her visible lips moved slightly, then immediately pressed tightly together, but she didn’t say anything more. He knew she hadn’t been convinced; and he hadn’t been able to comfort her either.

Gao Xiang recalled when he was about Zuo Si’an’s age, Chen Ziyu, half a year younger than him, had gotten into major trouble. Combined with a string of previous misdeeds, he was expelled from Qinggang Middle School. In his anger and haste, his grandfather had struck his son. His mother rushed over upon hearing the news to intervene and, as usual, had a huge fight with his father, also blaming Gao Xiang for not guiding Chen Ziyu properly and not notifying her in time. Chen Liguo scolded his daughter, and Gao Mingze was upset with his wife for inappropriately venting and showing favoritism. The house was in chaos. He was forgotten to one side, stood dazed for a while, then quietly slipped out and went up to the rooftop terrace of their building alone to sit. Dusk was gathering, the sounds of arguing downstairs seemed distant and ethereal. The long-term neglect by his mother, watching her give all her attention to another child—the grievance and anger suddenly surged uncontrollably in his heart, making the whole world seem gray.

Suddenly someone patted his shoulder. When he turned around, Chen Ziyu handed him a can of cola and sat down beside him: “They’ll be arguing for a while. How about we sneak out and play?”

Bruised and beaten, lips split, he still smiled carelessly as if nothing had happened. He neither felt the beating he’d just received required anyone’s comfort, nor thought there was anything wrong with his half-year-older nephew’s emotions that needed consoling; of course, he certainly wouldn’t take the argument downstairs that started because of him seriously either. The neighbor’s pigeons flew gracefully overhead, and suddenly one dropped a load on his head. He jumped up cursing, throwing the cola can at it, then schemed about climbing over the wall after dark to steal a few to stew… With this commotion, Gao Xiang had to admit he couldn’t remain immersed in those dark emotions anymore, much less stay angry at this young uncle.

Gao Xiang realized that every time he sat beside Zuo Si’an, he would involuntarily recall the childhood and adolescent years spent with Chen Ziyu.

Looking back, his heaviest concern at that time was no more than this—after thinking it through, even if he still minded, he was no longer troubled. For a child like Zuo Si’an who came from a good family and had received all her parents’ love, receiving a few candies should have been enough to turn tears into smiles; not being called on by the teacher when she hadn’t prepared her homework should have made her cheer in her heart… All happiness should have been simple and easy to obtain. But now, her life had been permanently rewritten, and the comfort she received was nothing more than a promise about time.

He looked down at her. She had been suffering from insomnia for days, and after crying herself to exhaustion, once she calmed down she fell into deep sleep, yet still held onto his hand. Her breathing was labored from crying. She turned over, her head tilting toward his side, her face unconsciously pressing against his hand. Her hot breath came in slow rhythms, one breath after another against the back of his hand. This soft, vulnerable, dependent, completely unguarded contact made him unwilling to withdraw his hand.

He adjusted his sitting position, leaning against the headboard. Feeling somewhat drowsy himself, he couldn’t tell whether it was because the sleeping child’s breathing beside him had a hypnotic quality, or because the low-altitude reaction continued to manifest. Without realizing it, he began to doze off.

The door made a sound. He opened his eyes to find Sun Ruodi had returned, standing at the bedside staring at him with an expression both shocked and annoyed. Zuo Si’an was also startled awake, rubbing her eyes and trying to sit up. He gently pressed her down, gesturing to Sun Ruodi not to speak.

“It’s okay, Xiao An. Sister Ruodi is back. Continue sleeping. If you’re hungry, come find us in the next room.”

Zuo Si’an looked at him with an alarmed expression. He patted her reassuringly, stood up to tuck in her blanket, dimmed the light, pulled Sun Ruodi out, closed the door, and returned to his own room. Sun Ruodi jerked her hand free: “What is this supposed to be?”

“Xiao An was very worried about her father…”

“I have no problem with you comforting her, but you didn’t need to sleep with her on the same bed, did you?”

He froze, then became furious: “Don’t speak so crudely, Ruodi. She’s still a child.”

Sun Ruodi was somewhat frightened by his stern tone and manner, but unwilling to back down: “A child? Please, she’s already fourteen or fifteen—it’s a stretch to still call her a child. She could be considered an adolescent.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“My meaning is very clear. You’ve never been a particularly patient person, yet you’re willing to hold her hand and tell her stories to lull her to sleep. You have to admit your concern for her has somewhat exceeded the normal range.”

“Her parents aren’t around. Her mother entrusted her to our care. I can’t just watch her sad and alone—it’s that simple. As for what kind of person I am, you should understand. If we don’t even have this much trust between us, then there’s nothing more to say.”

His expression was unusually serious. Sun Ruodi bit her lip and said unconvincingly: “I’m not doubting you, but Xiao An—this girl is really different from other girls.”

“How is she different? She’s just more introverted and quieter.”

“Hey, I’ve been through that age myself. I know better than you what normal girls that age should be like. She… if she were just gloomy and introverted that would be one thing, but the problem is her eyes look at people and immediately look away, as if she understands everything. It’s almost frightening.”

“She’s just a child. Even if you don’t like her, there’s no need to describe her as so strange.”

Sun Ruodi was extremely annoyed: “Why is it that whenever I honestly share my direct impressions, you think I’m being unkind? Setting aside everything else, you have to admit she’s very sensitive. By coddling her like this, you could easily confuse her and make her emotionally dependent on you. Do you think you can replace her father?”

Gao Xiang’s head began to throb solidly. He certainly understood that Sun Ruodi wasn’t entirely wrong. What Zuo Si’an needed most was still her father. No matter how much he wanted to help her, he couldn’t play that role in her life. He could only press his temples, lie down on the bed, and say irritably: “Don’t make this more absurd. Her father is alive and well, just temporarily working in Tibet and unable to come home. Why would I need to replace him?”

Sun Ruodi wanted to argue further, but seeing his pale face—after all, he had just recovered from a serious illness and was obviously tired—her heart softened: “Alright, alright, rest. Anyway, we’ll be home tomorrow and can return her to her mother.”

The next day, they went to the airport to fly back to Hanjiang. Zuo Si’an seemed to know that Gao Xiang and Sun Ruodi had argued, remaining quiet the whole time. She carried her own luggage, walking two or three steps behind them, eyes straight ahead, not initiating another word with Gao Xiang.

Gao Xiang had to admit this girl was indeed overly sensitive, and Sun Ruodi’s view that some of her behavior didn’t match her age wasn’t overly suspicious or unreasonable.

After the plane landed, Yu Jia was already waiting at the airport, thanking Gao Xiang and Sun Ruodi repeatedly and solemnly. Zuo Si’an still didn’t say a word. They each got into taxis. Sun Ruodi kept shaking her head: “Teacher Yu is such a cultured and refined intellectual—how can her daughter have such a strange personality?” She glanced at Gao Xiang. “Think I’m wrong again?”

Gao Xiang said nothing, but felt somewhat melancholy and worried. He realized he really couldn’t just stop caring about her.

3

Chen Zihui and Gao Ming were both surprised and distressed to see Gao Xiang, who had become noticeably darker, thinner, and haggard. After sitting down, Sun Ruodi couldn’t resist Chen Zihui’s interrogation and described the dangerous circumstances of his hospitalization and treatment. Chen Zihui’s expression changed dramatically.

“How is it that exaggerated?” Gao Xiang interrupted Sun Ruodi’s account.

“How is it not? The doctor said he’d seen no fewer than ten cases in two years of people dying from acute high-altitude pulmonary edema. Many people develop heart failure and simply can’t be resuscitated.”

“Alright, alright, I’m fine now.”

He gave Sun Ruodi a meaningful look. Sun Ruodi came to her senses and quickly said: “Yes, fortunately there was no real danger. Uncle, Auntie, it’s all my fault. I promise I’ll never pester Gao Xiang to take me to such dangerous places again.”

“We can’t blame you for this.” Chen Zihui comforted her while glaring fiercely at Gao Xiang, seeming about to erupt further. Fortunately Gao Ming changed the subject in time, saying: “Taking some hardships when you’re young is nothing. It’s good that you’re home safely.”

He patted Gao Xiang’s shoulder. Gao Xiang understood—his father, like him, was well aware that Chen Zihui was of course putting this on Zuo Si’an’s account. However, he didn’t mind and didn’t intend to argue about it, exchanging a smile with his father.

A few days later, Gao Xiang called Yu Jia, wanting to arrange to meet and discuss Zuo Si’an’s emotional issues. However, Yu Jia seemed somewhat surprised and hesitated before saying: “Xiao Gao, I met with your girlfriend yesterday.”

He had no idea Sun Ruodi had gone to see Yu Jia alone and was momentarily speechless. He heard Yu Jia continue: “Xiao Sun was very thoughtful. She developed and brought me the photos she took in Tibet—some of Xiao An, some of her with her father, and many beautiful landscape photos. I really must thank her. Originally I was planning to bring Xiao An this weekend to treat you and your girlfriend to dinner to express my thanks in person, but after talking with Xiao Sun, I think what she said made sense, so I’ve decided not to trouble you anymore.”

He didn’t want to ask others what his girlfriend had said, so he could only smile wryly: “Teacher Yu, there’s no need to be polite. This isn’t a trouble at all. I said before, if there’s anything I can help with, please just ask.”

“No, no, you’ve already done too much. If Xiao Sun hadn’t told me, I really wouldn’t have thought that Xuejun had quietly transferred to work in Cuoqin. I rashly entrusted Xiao An to you both, causing you to get seriously ill and nearly lose your life there. I really feel terrible about it.”

“It’s not that exaggerated—it was just a cold. I don’t want to discuss this anymore. “Teacher Yu, how has Xiao An been lately?”

“To be honest, since Xiao An came back, she’s become docile like before, burying herself in books all day with none of the irritability from before. However, she speaks very little. When I asked her about seeing her father, her answers were extremely brief—just: Yes, very far; Alright, not too hard; They all took good care of me; Dad said he’ll come back after three years when his aid work ends. That was it. I didn’t feel comfortable pressing her further. Sigh, I never imagined that place Ali would be so harsh.”

“Cuoqin is considered one of the more difficult areas in Ali. Secretary Zuo applying to work there made a great sacrifice and truly required a lot of courage.”

These words could comfort Zuo Si’an but only made Yu Jia sneer: “I have no doubt he’ll selflessly dedicate himself and work himself to death there. However, in my view, his preferring to go to such a place rather than dare stay home to face his daughter is another kind of cowardice. It has nothing to do with courage.”

The vague coldness and criticism in her words somewhat surprised Gao Xiang. He said tactfully: “Teacher Yu, Secretary Zuo knows how hard it is for you to raise Xiao An alone. When we were leaving, I heard him remind Xiao An that she must listen to you when she gets home.”

Yu Jia was silent for a moment on the other end, then sighed: “Yes, Xiao An is indeed very obedient now. I should have realized—all my efforts can’t compete with her father’s blessings and promises to come home. She still has deeper feelings for her father after all, even though he ran away when she needed him most.”

Gao Xiang didn’t feel it appropriate to respond to that statement and could only remain silent. Fortunately Yu Jia immediately controlled her emotions and recovered her calm: “I’m sorry, Xiao Gao. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

“It’s nothing. Teacher Yu, if there’s anything I can help with, please call me.”

“I appreciate your kindness, but Xiao Sun is right—what Xiao An needs is her father. I can’t transfer that responsibility to you. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her. Thank you, Xiao Gao. Goodbye.”

That evening when Gao Xiang met with Sun Ruodi, he brought up the matter. Sun Ruodi said matter-of-factly: “Yes, I developed all the photos and organized them by person, mailing them to Old Zhang, Shi Wei, Da Ming and the others separately. Since Teacher Yu and Xiao An live locally, of course I delivered theirs directly. Teacher Yu was very happy to see the photos. She invited me for coffee and asked me many questions. What about it?”

He smiled slightly: “Nothing. She also praised you for being thoughtful.”

Sun Ruodi also smiled: “The joy of helping others. Anything within my ability, I’m absolutely willing to do.”

Looking at his girlfriend’s slightly raised pretty face, Gao Xiang felt somewhat reflective. He had been dating Sun Ruodi for over two years and had always felt she was simple and kind-hearted, without any scheming. He hadn’t expected at all that she would also think such complex and roundabout thoughts, implement them behind his back, and afterward show no guilt or unease—instead having a confident expression waiting for him to question her.

He felt his concern for Zuo Si’an was entirely aboveboard, but he had indeed kept many things from his girlfriend. Of course he didn’t intend to discuss this matter with her further. However, he vaguely felt that their relationship no longer seemed as simple and harmonious as before.

Next, Gao Xiang began preparing for Baobao’s surgery together with his parents. According to his thinking, it would be best to go to a major hospital in Beijing or Shanghai for the operation, but Chen Zihui felt Baobao couldn’t withstand the journey’s hardships. After some complications, they finally managed to invite an expert to perform the surgery. Chen Liguo and Gao Ming also rushed to the provincial capital. Chen Liguo had undergone heart bypass surgery, and Gao Xiang had just experienced a brush with death. Although both tried hard to remain calm, inwardly they were no more relaxed than Chen Zihui, who kept pacing back and forth, too anxious to settle down.

The surgery took quite a long time. There were even two critical condition notices issued requiring family signatures, frightening Chen Zihui to tears. Chen Liguo couldn’t withstand this continuous stimulation and had to be taken home by Gao Ming to rest.

Fortunately, this six-month-old child had tenacious vitality and ultimately came through the shunt surgery safely. The doctor told them that judging from the surgical situation, Baobao’s tetralogy of Fallot was much more complex than they had anticipated, and the effectiveness of the shunt surgery was uncertain.

Chen Zihui immediately became anxious: “Doctor, can it be completely cured or not?”

“The full name of this surgery is systemic-pulmonary artery shunt surgery. After recovery, breathing difficulties and cyanosis symptoms will improve somewhat, blood oxygen saturation will increase, and it can promote pulmonary artery and left ventricle development. However, the child’s cardiac vascular malformations and poor left ventricle development haven’t been treated. Moving forward, you must still be careful with nursing, have regular checkups, and when the time is right, undergo corrective surgery.” The doctor cautiously predicted: “The probability of recovery theoretically exists.”

Gao Xiang stopped his mother, who was eager to interject again, and after the doctor left, comforted her: “As long as the probability of recovery exists, that’s good.”

Chen Liguo also comforted his daughter: “As long as there’s hope, that’s good.”

Chen Zihui still cried out: “Baobao is so small. Who knows how much more suffering he’ll have to endure to survive. It’s truly too pitiful.”

Once Baobao’s condition stabilized somewhat, Chen Zihui began thinking about giving him a name and registering his household. She went to seek Chen Liguo’s opinion. Chen Liguo was silent for a long time before saying: “Let the child take the Gao surname.”

Chen Zihui was dumbfounded, almost unable to believe her ears. Coming to her senses, she immediately stood up: “Dad, the Chen family finally has a descendant to carry on the family line. How can he not have the Chen surname?”

“Aren’t you and Xiao Xiang my descendants?”

“That’s different.”

“How is it different? If I hadn’t stubbornly insisted on having a son, your mother wouldn’t have died so early.” At the mention of her mother, Chen Zihui’s eyes immediately reddened. “Besides, this child will grow up eventually. How will you explain his parents’ situation to him, let alone what outsiders who know who his father is will say.”

Chen Zihui was immediately speechless.

“I’ve thought it through. Let the child take the Gao surname. In the future, let him attend school in the provincial capital—at least he can live a normal life.”

Gao Ming was astonished. Chen Zihui still didn’t want to compromise. Both had expressions like they had something to say. Chen Liguo waved his hand: “Zihui, don’t be stubborn. Let’s call Baobao’s formal name Gao Fei. Like Xiao Xiang’s name—auspicious and smooth-sounding, just like brothers. I’m tired. You should all rest early too.”

Chen Zihui and Gao Ming could only leave. Walking to the door, she suddenly stopped, turned to glance at Gao Xiang with a thoughtful expression. But Gao Xiang’s manner was very calm, so she didn’t say anything more.

After they left, Gao Xiang said sincerely: “Thank you, Grandfather.”

Chen Zihui hadn’t suspected wrongly—Gao Xiang had played a decisive role in this matter. Ever since promising Zuo Si’an not to let Baobao take the Chen surname, he had been considering this issue. While Zuo Si’an’s strong hatred for Chen Ziyu made it impossible for him to ignore, he also truly believed that if Baobao was born bearing the burden of having a rapist father, his life couldn’t possibly be the same as other children’s.

He knew he couldn’t reason this through with his mother, so he found an opportunity to communicate with his grandfather. Fortunately, Chen Liguo could completely understand his thinking.

Chen Liguo sighed: “No need to thank me. What you’re considering is right—this is best for Baobao. However, your father has never liked Ziyu. He probably doesn’t want to formally adopt Baobao, become his father, and take on such great responsibility. In the future, your mother will have to live long-term in the provincial capital with Baobao, living apart from him. He may not be happy about that either. Go check on them—make sure they don’t get into another argument over this.”

Gao Xiang left Chen Liguo’s room and went to his parents’ side, finding that just as his grandfather had predicted, they were already arguing.

Chen Zihui, as usual, raised her voice indignantly: “Since Dad already said so, what else can I say?”

Gao Ming’s voice remained low: “I just feel it’s not appropriate.”

“What’s inappropriate about it?”

“You and I are already this age, and Gao Xiang is almost twenty-four. Suddenly having a son appear out of nowhere—people would gossip.”

“What’s there to gossip about? When my mother gave birth to Ziyu, she was about our age.”

Her mention of Chen Ziyu clearly annoyed Gao Ming even more: “Everyone knows perfectly well what the situation is. Insisting Baobao is my son—isn’t this just self-deception?”

“I don’t care what others say. I’d like to see who dares gossip with me. Besides, you’ve been saying all along that you can’t bear the responsibility of being this child’s father because I keep calling him ‘the Chen family’s only descendant.’ What exactly do you mean by that?”

“What do I mean?”

Chen Zihui’s voice rose again. Gao Xiang quickly knocked and entered: “Dad, Mom, just register the household as my son.”

Both Chen Zihui and Gao Ming froze, saying in unison: “How can that be!”

“Only my household registration is in the provincial capital, not in Qinggang. It’s such a big city—nobody knows who I am, much less will anyone gossip. Grandfather also said to let Baobao grow up and attend school in the provincial capital in the future, which can avoid all that idle talk.”

“No, I don’t agree.” Gao Ming said angrily. “You’re not even married yet and you become a father? What will your girlfriend think?”

“It’s just registering a household. What’s the big deal? Ruodi has met Baobao and really likes him. She won’t mind.”

Chen Zihui suddenly said: “Xiao Xiang, why don’t you just marry Ruodi now, then adopt Baobao. He’ll have both parents, and when he grows up he won’t question his background.”

Both Gao Ming and Gao Xiang father and son froze, looking at each other speechless. Chen Zihui seemed to think this was an increasingly good idea: “This way all problems are solved, and it happens to bring good luck to our family. Let your grandfather be happy too. From last year until now, the Chen family has really had nothing but bad luck.”

As always, Gao Ming was helpless about his wife’s various sudden inspirations: “How did you come up with that? What era is this to still be talking about ‘bringing good luck’? Marriage is a lifelong matter. How can it be so hasty?”

“How is this hasty? Xiao Xiang and Ruodi have been dating for two years now. My father is also very satisfied with this girl—he says she’s gracious and well-mannered. Marriage is perfectly normal, isn’t it?”

Gao Xiang smiled wryly. He never expected a suggestion to let Baobao take his surname would evolve into this. “Ruodi just graduated and started working. Neither of us has thought about marrying this early.”

Gao Ming also said: “Right, lifelong matters must be carefully considered. Marrying too early isn’t good.”

Chen Zihui glanced at him sideways: “What do you mean by that? Are you implying you didn’t consider carefully and married too early?”

“I’m discussing the specific matter. Don’t make wild extrapolations.”

“I don’t need to extrapolate. Gao Ming, your implications are very clear. Don’t think I don’t know…”

Gao Xiang saw his parents were about to argue again and quickly raised his hand to stop them: “Stop, stop, stop. Mom, don’t go off on tangents. Dad is right—I’ll think about it.”

He wasn’t as shocked hearing this as he initially was. Plus, thinking about his elderly and frail grandfather actually hoping he would settle down soon, his heart stirred. Seeing Chen Zihui’s expression suggesting she still had more to say, he added: “I’ll discuss it with Ruodi. Like I said, she may not agree to marry this early.”

4

Sun Ruodi had just graduated from university and entered a private company. Transitioning from student to workplace newcomer left her flustered and under considerable pressure, completely losing the leisurely ease of her student days. This day, Gao Xiang picked her up from work as she once again indignantly complained about her supervisor’s unreasonable demands and colleagues’ various difficulties.

Gao Xiang listened patiently and comforted her: “Private companies are like this. The boss’s personal will often overrides rules and regulations. You have to learn to gradually adapt.”

“I feel like I can’t adapt. I really miss the simple environment of school.”

“People have to grow up and enter society.”

Sun Ruodi dejectedly leaned back: “Now every morning when I wake up, I have to struggle for ages, not knowing what the point of going to work is. I have nothing to look forward to. I’m really worried that if this continues, I’ll become like my colleagues—full of resentment and sharp-tongued.”

“If you’re really unhappy with the work, change jobs.”

“Easy to say. Sigh, you know my major is unpopular—it’s not easy to find work. I don’t want to quit after just a few months and have my parents nag me. They already keep thinking I never grew up.”

“How about marrying me then? That way they won’t keep treating you like a child.”

Sun Ruodi was shocked, looking at him suspiciously. He steadily gripped the steering wheel, looking ahead, his expression no different from saying “How about we get your favorite Sichuan food?”  She had always loved his maturity and composure beyond his peers, but using such a casual tone to bring up marriage made it impossible for her to be happy.

“Why would you suddenly think of marriage?”

“We’re both of legal marriage age.”

Sun Ruodi had long known Gao Xiang wasn’t romantic, but hearing this kind of reason still made her feel frustrated enough to vomit blood. She said angrily: “I’m not of desperate-to-marry age.”

“I didn’t say you were desperate to marry. Right now I’m the one afraid you’ll run away, anxious to marry you and bring you home.”

“Is this how you propose?”

“If you’re willing, I’ll go buy a ring and flowers right now. Should there also be music and champagne?”

His half-coaxing, half-joking tone eased her anger somewhat. She pouted: “First tell me, why did you suddenly think of marriage?”

“We’ve been dating for quite a while. I’m serious about you. Getting married now is a bit early, but it’s not bad either. Of course, if you don’t think so, I understand—after all, you’re still young.”

Gao Xiang didn’t often speak sweet words, but occasional phrases could make her heart bloom with joy. She happily reached over to cover his right hand gripping the steering wheel: “Hmph, you’re backing me into a corner.”

Gao Xiang smiled: “There’s one more thing I don’t want to hide from you. I think you probably won’t mind.”

“What is it?”

“I’m planning to register Baobao’s household under my name. After we marry, we’ll nominally be his parents. Of course, he’ll still be cared for by my mother.”

Sun Ruodi was shocked and withdrew her hand. After quite a while she said: “You mean in the future when Baobao grows up, you’ll tell him you’re his father and I’m… his mother?”

“Right. Grandfather has already given him a name—Gao Fei.”

“I completely don’t understand. Baobao is your uncle’s child. Last time your mother told me the Chen family only has him as a descendant to carry on the family line. Why should you be his adoptive father, and why should he take your surname? This messes up the generational order and doesn’t make sense either.”

“We don’t want Baobao to grow up with psychological shadows.”

“Having both parents die is very unfortunate, but Baobao has your grandfather, your parents, and you loving and caring for him. He’ll definitely grow up well. What’s the need to fabricate a background story, claiming he’s your child?”

Gao Xiang realized that without the major premise of Baobao’s true background, any reason he gave wouldn’t hold up well, while Sun Ruodi’s questions came with perfectly sound reasoning. He was momentarily speechless and could only sidestep the issue: “Registering the household in the provincial capital also makes it convenient for Baobao to attend school in the future.”

“That doesn’t require making you Baobao’s father either.” Sun Ruodi suddenly developed a suspicion and stared at Gao Xiang for a long time.

“What is it?”

“Tell me honestly—is this the reason you want to marry me?”

“Of course not. Don’t take this matter too seriously. Like I said, we’re just nominally his parents.”

“Can you just casually take on this kind of nominal title?”

“Baobao will be raised by my mother. It won’t require any effort from you at all. I really don’t understand why you’re having such a big reaction. I thought you liked Baobao.”

This veiled accusation immediately angered Sun Ruodi: “Stop the car.”

Gao Xiang ignored her. She suddenly grabbed the stuffed bear on the center console and threw it at him. He instinctively dodged. The car swerved, and the car behind immediately honked. Frightened, he quickly steadied the steering wheel and said angrily: “What are you doing? That’s too dangerous.”

“I said stop the car.”

Gao Xiang was also getting angry now. He drove the car to the roadside and stopped. Just as he was about to speak, she opened the car door and jumped out. He had to unbuckle his seatbelt, get out, and chase her nearly twenty meters before pulling her to a stop.

“Hey, even if you don’t want to get married now, there’s no need to get this angry.”

Sun Ruodi tried hard to shake off his hand. Tears involuntarily flowed out. Her voice trembled slightly: “You don’t care about my feelings at all.”

Gao Xiang sighed: “I just don’t understand why you mind this matter so much.”

“That’s because you don’t value me at all, Gao Xiang. You never consider issues from my perspective.”

“Alright, alright, don’t cry. Let’s find another place to talk. There are people coming and going on this street—you don’t want them to see this spectacle either.”

He just said it casually, but when he looked up, he discovered there really were people watching them—Zuo Si’an and a boy were standing not far ahead at a bus stop.

Gao Xiang hadn’t seen Zuo Si’an since returning from Ali. Several months had passed. Her hair was tied in a neat ponytail. Carrying a backpack and wearing a loose white T-shirt and black pants, she looked somewhat taller but even more frail. What a coincidence—the boy beside her wearing the same school uniform was someone Gao Xiang also recognized: Mei Yi’s stubborn nephew Liu Guanchao.

Being caught by two children pulling and arguing on the street, Gao Xiang felt rather embarrassed. He let go of Sun Ruodi’s arm and said quietly: “Stop making a scene. Xiao An is over there.”

Sun Ruodi saw Zuo Si’an and suddenly sneered: “Taking me to Tibet was actually because you had to take her there; now marrying me is just to give Baobao a ready-made background. I’m always just an incidental consideration for you. What exactly do you take me for?”

He hadn’t expected her to bring up Zuo Si’an, much less wanted her to mention the child in front of Zuo Si’an. His face darkened: “Get in the car with me. We’ll find another place to talk.”

Sun Ruodi raised her hand to wipe away tears, walked silently to the roadside, hailed a taxi, jumped in and forcefully shut the door, instructing the driver to go.

Gao Xiang could only watch helplessly. He glanced at Zuo Si’an again—she had an uncomfortable expression on her face. He turned to leave, but Zuo Si’an suddenly called out: “Hey, wait.”

He stopped, somewhat surprised. He saw Zuo Si’an say to Liu Guanchao: “Xiao Chao, you go back to school for self-study first.”

“That won’t do. Even if you won’t let me see you home, I at least have to watch you get in a car.”

“No need. I have something to say to him. I’ll go home after talking. Don’t worry, my mom knows him. It’s fine.”

Liu Guanchao clearly wasn’t reassured and had more to say, but Zuo Si’an pressed her lips together and shook her head. He couldn’t go against her wishes. He stared at Gao Xiang, then turned and walked away without a word.

5

Zuo Si’an walked over and stood about a meter away from him, seeming somewhat hesitant about how to begin.

“What are you doing here?”

“School just let out. I’m about to catch a bus home.”

Gao Xiang remembered that Yu Jia had arranged for her to transfer to the provincial key school, Teachers College Affiliated Middle School, for ninth grade. He asked: “What about Xiao Chao?”

“He tested into Teachers College Affiliated Middle School for tenth grade.”

“That’s good—you can continue being classmates.”

Zuo Si’an’s eyes wandered for a moment. She didn’t pick up on that comment: “Don’t quarrel with Sister Ruodi.”

Gao Xiang hadn’t expected at all that this was what she’d stayed behind to say. Remembering that last time in Shiquanhe Town when she’d also overheard him arguing with Sun Ruodi, he felt even more embarrassed: “We’re not really quarreling—just have different views on something. She’s probably a bit upset, that’s all.”

“She looked more than just a bit upset. Go and properly coax her, try not to quarrel if you can help it. My parents never used to quarrel, but ever since… they started once, it never stopped. Their words got harsher and harsher—they could never go back to how things were.”

In the gathering dusk, she seemed to have grown a bit taller, but her face still retained its childish quality—she still looked like a child. Her manner of speaking also had that quality peculiar to children, carrying the hesitation and uncertainty that comes when facing adults. Yet there was something indescribable about her that made her seem completely different from her peers. Her eyes especially appeared deep, with the tired, weary look that only comes from chronic insomnia, making her seem as if she’d already stepped one foot into the adult world and had to bear all the troubles and anxieties adults face. Gao Xiang felt somewhat heartbroken and could only smile faintly: “Don’t worry about us. I’ll find her later and explain properly.”

“That’s good then. The bus is coming—I’ll go first.”

“It’s rush hour now, too crowded. I’ll take you home.”

She hesitated briefly, then silently got in the car with him. She picked up the small cloth bear from under the seat, recognizing it as her own but not understanding how it got there.

“Last time when I took you to the hospital, you left it in my car.”

She examined it with a blank expression and said “oh,” clearly still unable to recall that scene. He didn’t want her to keep trying to remember and asked: “How long does it take you to get to school by bus every day?”

“Half an hour. It’s convenient.”

“Is Teachers College Affiliated Middle School very strict?”

“After attending Qinggang Middle School, everywhere else seems relaxed by comparison.”

“That’s true. Are you keeping up with your coursework?”

“I ranked nineteenth in my class on the monthly exam.”

“That’s already very impressive. Don’t rush—take it slow.”

She had an absent-minded air about her. He stopped asking questions, letting her hold the little bear and stare blankly ahead. As they neared her home, she suddenly said: “Stop here. I need to pick up takeout dinner.”

He stopped the car and asked in surprise: “Your mother doesn’t cook?”

“She went on a business trip yesterday. Before leaving, she ordered meals for me—I just need to pick them up.”

“She left you home alone?”

Zuo Si’an froze, then suddenly became annoyed: “So what? Do you think I need 24-hour supervision?”

She opened the car door and got out, heading straight into the restaurant without looking back. Gao Xiang didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, feeling this girl’s moods were even more unpredictable than his girlfriend’s. He stayed put. After ten-odd minutes, Zuo Si’an emerged carrying a large plastic bag. Seeing his car, she walked over and asked hesitantly: “Why are you still here?”

Gao Xiang got out: “Even if you don’t like being supervised, I need to make sure before I can relax. Are you safe home alone?”

“If home isn’t safe, then nowhere is.”

This answer was so reasonable he couldn’t refute it. He asked: “When is your mother coming back?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Does she travel often?”

“Not at all. This is her first business trip in months—only four days. Before leaving, she arranged everything, even took my temperature. She listed ten precautions and posted them on the refrigerator. She even bought a mobile phone specifically, wrote the number in the most prominent place so I can reach her anytime.”

Gao Xiang had to admit that for Yu Jia, managing a household alone while caring for her daughter and balancing work, she’d indeed arranged things very carefully. Zuo Si’an also appeared calm and normal. Even though he couldn’t completely stop worrying, there was nothing more to ask.

“Alright then. After you get home, lock the door. Don’t open it if strangers knock. And if anything happens, call me immediately. Your mother is far away after all—I can get there more quickly.”

He was about to get in the car when Zuo Si’an suddenly said: “Do you want to have dinner?” Seeing Gao Xiang’s surprised expression, she added somewhat uncomfortably: “This restaurant makes good food. My mom ordered portions for me and Xiao Chao, but I didn’t have him come over today. If you don’t eat it, it’ll just go to waste.”

He could see she wanted to make up for her earlier rudeness and couldn’t help but find it amusing: “That’s a solid reason for an invitation. Alright, I happen to be hungry too.”

Gao Xiang followed Zuo Si’an into the apartment building. She said: “Wait a moment, let me check the mailbox.”

He held the plastic bag for her while she took out keys to open the mailbox. Sure enough, she pulled out a letter. He asked casually: “From your father?”

She shook her head: “Jingjing wrote to me. We’ve been corresponding.”

As she climbed the stairs, she tore open the envelope. A shower of small yellow flowers fell out, and the stairwell was suddenly filled with a faint sweet fragrance. Gao Xiang was amused by the young girl’s delicate thoughtfulness: “The osmanthus tree in Jingjing’s yard bloomed, didn’t it?”

“Mm.” She carefully sniffed the inside of the envelope, her expression somewhat wistful. “Jingjing said that tree was planted by her great-grandfather when he was young. When it blooms, at least half the village can smell the fragrance. Even sleeping at night, dreams are sweet. That feeling must be wonderful.”

Reaching the third floor, she’d just opened the door when the phone started ringing. She hurried to answer: “Yes, Mom, I just got in.” “I already got dinner—it was just made.” “Okay, I know.”

She hung up and went to the kitchen to get dishes. Gao Xiang hadn’t had time to look around carefully on his last visit. He surveyed his surroundings. Before him was a tidy three-bedroom apartment. Compared to Zuo Xuejun’s simple lodgings in Qinggang, the décor and furnishings here weren’t particularly elaborate or thoughtful, but they had a homey atmosphere and were kept very neat and orderly.

Just then the phone rang again. She rushed out to answer it. After listening to just one sentence, she frowned, her voice flat as she responded: “Yes, I’m already home.” “No need.” “I didn’t tell him anything.” “Xiao Chao, go do your homework. Stop worrying about me.” She hung up abruptly, sat on the sofa looking very dejected.

“He cares about you.”

“I know, but he shouldn’t have come to Teachers College Affiliated Middle School. His grades are excellent—Qinggang High School had already agreed to admit him with a guarantee and waive his tuition. He still decided to apply to Teachers College Affiliated Middle School. His father got so angry he beat him bloody. His mother called our house repeatedly, crying and begging me to persuade him to change his mind. I… really did try to persuade him. I even said I didn’t want to see him anymore, but he wouldn’t listen at all. He still tested in.”

Gao Xiang was astonished, though thinking it through he could understand. Qinggang High School had college entrance exam acceptance rates on par with Teachers College Affiliated Middle School. As a Qinggang native, staying there to study made perfect sense, and for an impoverished family, the burden would be much lighter. The provincial capital had a high cost of living. Considering expenses alone, Liu Guanchao’s family wouldn’t support him applying to Teachers College Affiliated Middle School. What’s more, he’d obviously made this choice for Zuo Si’an’s sake, so it was even less possible to gain his family’s understanding. For a fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy to do this took considerable courage. But his family, unable to persuade him, had directly called Zuo Si’an to transfer the pressure to another child, making her bear the guilt—this angered him greatly.

He said softly: “You tried to persuade him—you’ve fulfilled your duty as a friend. If he still insists on his choice, it’s no longer your concern.”

“No. When I urged him not to come here to study, it wasn’t for his own good. I… truly didn’t want to see him.”

“Why?” She opened her mouth but couldn’t speak. He waved his hand. “Never mind. Remember, no matter what his family says, the choice was his own. You don’t owe him anything.”

“The problem now is, he probably feels he owes me. That day… his sister invited me and him to see a movie together. Later she had him go back to the dorm with her to get something, telling me to wait for them behind her school…”

Zuo Si’an stopped, but Gao Xiang already knew what happened next. His heart clenched tight. The room was so quiet only the wall clock’s movement could be heard, monotonous and repetitive to the point of being oppressive.

After quite a while, she spoke again, her tone very flat: “Actually it has nothing to do with him at all. He just keeps blaming himself. In Qinggang he was with me every day, riding his bicycle to Liu Wan to tutor me. He’s already done too much. Now he’s come here to study despite his family’s opposition, and as soon as my mom said she had to travel, he stopped attending evening study hall to see me home. I really don’t need him to help me endlessly like this. Sometimes I can’t help getting angry, practically wanting to tell him to stop bothering me. I know that treating him this way… is somewhat ungrateful.”

“You should talk to him, tell him your feelings directly.”

“I did. He wouldn’t listen at all—instead he thinks I don’t want to be a burden to him. Whether I’m willing or not, I’ve become a pitiful creature who must accept help. Nobody cares about my feelings, including my mother—everyone is desperately pitying me and trying to compensate me.”

Gao Xiang was somewhat surprised: “You can’t think that way.”

“I can’t help but think this way.” She blurted out, then shook her head. “My mother has told me too—thinking this way is being difficult with others and with myself. It’s a kind of wrong self-suggestion with no meaning. She’s right. I’ll try my best to control myself.”

She seemed to suddenly regain her composure, but Gao Xiang couldn’t act as if nothing had happened: “No, Xiao An. Your mother is right, but you have the right to express your emotions. Just like when I asked too many questions earlier and you were unhappy—I completely understand. You don’t need to apologize to anyone.”

She was silent for a long time. Tears suddenly welled in her eyes. She immediately lowered her eyelids and said quietly: “Actually, I’m very scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“I’m afraid you’ll all pity me first, then start to despise me,” her voice grew even softer. “Nobody will treat me normally.”

Gao Xiang was struck again by this girl’s sensitivity. Liu Guanchao’s devotion to Zuo Si’an certainly exceeded the bounds of normal friendship. The Liu family couldn’t possibly understand, and she found it unbearable. But wasn’t he himself also trying hard to compensate her? They were of course largely motivated by pity, trying hard to help her life return to normal. But the effects spawned by evil last far longer and reach far deeper than most people imagine. Once they realized no one could ultimately play God and save her, would they choose to escape? Her father’s departure for Tibet was the best proof of this. No wonder she had such a strong sense of insecurity.

His silence made Zuo Si’an withdraw. She stood up: “Let’s eat, or the food will get cold.”

“Xiao An, if something’s bothering you, don’t keep it inside. It’s okay to talk to me—I’m willing to listen.”

She pulled at the corner of her mouth, showing an expression that was somewhat indifferent yet somewhat resigned, and shook her head decisively: “No. I promised my mother I wouldn’t mention this to anyone. Even though you’ve always known and are willing to listen, I can’t keep pulling you in to talk endlessly. Complain too much and you become Xianglin’s Wife—even you’ll despise yourself.”

She went straight into the kitchen, stayed there a few minutes before coming out, completely calm again, methodically setting out the bowls and chopsticks, asking him to sit, serving him rice. After finishing the meal, he wanted to help her take the dishes to the kitchen. She said: “I’ll do it myself. If you have things to do, go ahead. Just close the door for me.”

He suddenly asked: “Do you have a lot of homework today?”

“It’s alright, not too much.”

“Then I’ll take you somewhere.”

She looked at him in surprise: “Where?”

“Don’t ask. It’s not far—I’ll have you back in two hours at most.”

“But…” She hesitated, then said, “Sister Ruodi will be unhappy if she finds out.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, having to admit to himself that Sun Ruodi would indeed not be happy if she knew about this. “That’s not something you need to worry about. Think carefully before answering me—would you rather lock yourself in the house alone doing homework, or come out with me to relax?”

She had an expression of inner conflict written all over her face. He waited patiently. She finally nodded.

Gao Xiang took Zuo Si’an to his car and drove straight to the university he’d attended. Entering through the west gate, after walking for a while, she suddenly stopped and said quietly: “There are osmanthus flowers here too.”

“Right.”

The streetlights were dim yellow, but the air was filled with the delicate fragrance of osmanthus flowers, floating and swirling around them, undeniably declaring their existence and bloom. He pointed ahead: “That’s the dorm I used to live in, so I roughly know what it feels like to smell flowers even while sleeping—it’s like dreaming you’re eating Mei Yi’s osmanthus cake.”

She smiled silently in the darkness, showing her clean, even white teeth: “Yes, freshly steamed brown sugar osmanthus cake is delicious.” After a pause, she said, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I just happened to want to visit the campus too.”

“You and Sister Ruodi were classmates, right?”

“Yes, though we had different majors. She was a year behind me. Her dorm was in that direction. I often used to wait for her by the bulletin board over there.”

Students constantly passed by them, some in groups of three or five talking and laughing, others in pairs whispering quietly—the atmosphere relaxed and leisurely.

“My dad and mom were college classmates. They got married a year after graduation, then had me.” She lifted her face to look into the distance, seeming somewhat distracted, but immediately pulled her attention back and asked: “Is college very happy?”

He thought for a moment and answered honestly: “Much more relaxed than middle school. No endless practice problems to repeat, no pressure to advance to higher schools. You can meet classmates from different places, have opportunities to learn more interesting things, can try making decisions for yourself. You might even fall in love with someone.”

“Do you love Sister Ruodi?”

He smiled: “There’s no need to be together if you don’t love her.”

“Yes, I think so too—being together is what matters most.” He didn’t know if she was thinking of her parents again and was about to speak when she added: “And not quarreling.”

Her curved eyes looked at him with a somewhat mischievous smile, making him unable to help but laugh: “I agree.”

6

Gao Xiang’s explanation to Sun Ruodi didn’t go smoothly. Sun Ruodi wouldn’t even answer his calls. He had a florist deliver flowers to her office, but she had no reaction at all. Somewhat helpless, he then received a work assignment from his father to open up sales channels in a neighboring province. He could only pack his bags and travel for half a month before returning.

As soon as he entered the house, he was genuinely shocked to find Sun Ruodi sitting in the living room chatting and laughing with Chen Zihui: “Where’s Baobao?”

“In the room, sleeping.” Chen Zihui stood up. “I’ll go check on the kitchen. Yujiao is a diligent worker, but she doesn’t know how to cook many dishes. I still need to teach her more.”

Gao Xiang set down his suitcase and first went to his mother’s bedroom to see Baobao. A girl was sitting by the small wooden bed flipping through a pictorial. When their eyes met, Gao Xiang immediately recognized her as Liu Yaqin and was greatly astonished.

Liu Yaqin was dressed quite simply this time, her hair clipped back with a barrette, no makeup. She said softly: “Baobao is very good. He fell asleep after drinking milk.”

“You’re the new nanny?”

She shook her head: “My mom came to work as nanny at your house. I came to see her about something today and helped watch Baobao for a bit.”

He hadn’t expected his mother to actually hire Wang Yujiao as the nanny. He frowned without speaking. Liu Yaqin was clearly good at reading expressions and quickly said: “My dad has lumbar spine problems and needs treatment. My brother is studying in the provincial capital. The family has no money—my mom really needs this job.”

He made a gesture: “I know. Don’t wake Baobao.”

Gao Xiang came out to find Sun Ruodi flipping through a magazine, ignoring him. He walked over and sat beside her: “Had enough? You must be tired of receiving flowers by now—time to stop being angry.”

Sun Ruodi couldn’t keep a straight face any longer and laughed, saying quietly: “Call the florist and tell them to stop. My colleagues are already making all sorts of comments. I can’t handle being in the spotlight like this.”

“Next time you make a fuss with me, I’ll use this move again.”

“How nice for you. I didn’t come over because I was afraid of receiving flowers. Your mom called me today, insisting I go with her to see the house she bought. On the way, she explained everything—it was all your grandfather’s idea. Having lost his son in his old age, he’s too heartbroken. He even had someone read Baobao’s fortune, and they said the child can’t take his surname or they’ll be incompatible.”

Gao Xiang could only marvel at Chen Zihui’s storytelling ability while being annoyed she’d interfered in this matter. He kept a straight face without making a sound. Sun Ruodi misunderstood his expression: “Alright, it’s the elderly’s thinking—we should respect it. I admit I was a bit willful, but don’t you think you were also wrong? If you’d explained things clearly to me…”

“You would have been just as angry, Ruodi.”

Sun Ruodi glared at him: “Whether I can accept it is one thing. Whether you tell me the truth is the key point.”

“This is how things stand now.” He shook his head. “Before the business trip, I already told my mother that rushing into marriage isn’t good. I’ve had her register Baobao’s household directly with mine. When Baobao grows up, we’ll naturally have ways to explain it to him. Let’s not discuss this anymore.”

Sun Ruodi said irritably: “See, this is the biggest problem between us. You always sidestep the main issue. You’re keeping more and more from me.”

Gao Xiang was about to speak when the nanny brought out soup. It was indeed Wang Yujiao, mother of Liu Yaqin and Liu Guanchao. She seemed somewhat nervous. Sun Ruodi thanked her, but she only smiled stiffly, not looking at anyone, and immediately retreated to the kitchen.

That evening after seeing Sun Ruodi off, Gao Xiang returned to find Wang Yujiao and her daughter had also left. He asked: “Where’s the nanny?”

“She walked her daughter to catch the bus.”

“Why did you hire her to work here?”

“The previous nanny was making a fuss about leaving. I was planning to go back to the Qinggang countryside to find someone. Nannies who’ve worked in the provincial capital too long all become too slippery and lazy—I’ve had enough long ago.”

Gao Xiang frowned: “Mom, there are some things I’ve never wanted to press you about. But since you’ve brought her here to work, I have to ask clearly. In getting the Zuo family to agree to have Baobao born, did you make some kind of deal with her and her daughter?”

Chen Zihui admitted it frankly: “Of course. How could it have gone so smoothly without paying a price? I gave Wang Yujiao a sum of money. She agreed to make it happen, including persuading her older nephew to help. That money was well spent, wasn’t it?”

Gao Xiang looked at his mother helplessly. Obviously, as usual, Chen Zihui didn’t feel there was anything wrong with what she’d done. Criticizing her would be futile. Moreover, Baobao had already been born—everything was irreversible.

“We brought Baobao to live in the provincial capital specifically so he wouldn’t be gossiped about. Why bring someone who knows the inside story to work in the house?”

“Wang Yujiao’s son came to study in the provincial capital—his expenses are higher than before. Her husband has a herniated lumbar disc, can’t do heavy work anymore, and needs medical treatment. Her daughter at the county hospital still can’t get permanent status—her salary is pitifully low. She came to me suggesting she work as a nanny, which would also be convenient for looking after her son nearby. I gave her a trial week, and she really was good. She’s quick and diligent with her hands, very good with children. Whenever she’s idle, she does housework, even taking care of the hourly worker’s tasks. It’s really not easy to find a nanny like this nowadays. Don’t worry about Baobao’s situation—she guaranteed me she absolutely won’t gossip.”

“Can you trust her? Originally County Magistrate Zuo’s family treated her well and trusted her, yet she still used their daughter to make a deal with you.”

“This is different. She’s just an uneducated rural woman from a difficult background. It’s understandable she’d be tempted by small gains—she can’t make big waves. What’s there to fear with me watching? Oh, I agreed to arrange a job for her daughter Liu Yaqin at your company.”

“This is getting more and more ridiculous. No.” Gao Xiang said with great displeasure. “I don’t have work for her.”

“Are you deliberately opposing me? After all, she’s a girl who was with Ziyu and helped me out. I already promised her.”

“Mom, don’t always assume others are deliberately opposing you. Think instead about why your ideas are always different from everyone else’s.”

Chen Zihui wasn’t as tough with her son as she was with her husband. Seeing him look serious, she immediately switched to a conciliatory tone: “Alright, alright. She only has a nursing school degree anyway—just arrange some menial work for her. If you won’t arrange it, I’ll have your father do it. He’s your boss after all—I don’t believe he’d dare oppose me.”

Gao Xiang shook his head in exasperation, knowing she would definitely do this. “I really give up with you. Also, stop meddling in my affairs from now on.”

“Don’t be stubborn. If I didn’t meddle, who knows how long Ruodi would have stayed mad at you. I took her to see the house I bought—it’s almost finished being renovated. The neighborhood environment is excellent, quiet yet convenient for transportation. It’s a duplex, very spacious. You two could definitely live there after marriage. I told her the house would be in her name. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was completely satisfied. If you propose to her again, I guarantee she won’t object.”

Gao Xiang looked at his mother with a headache, but Chen Zihui had a triumphant expression. He was helpless: “Enough, enough. She’s not as materialistic as you think. I’ve thought it over—we’ll discuss marriage later.”

“Why?”

“We’re both still young and not ready. Anyway, stop meddling from now on. Just focus on being a good grandmother and looking after Baobao properly.”

This time Chen Zihui didn’t get angry, instead showing a somewhat wistful expression: “Sigh, if it weren’t for your grandfather insisting, I never would have agreed. In the future when Baobao can talk, he’ll call me—his aunt—grandmother. Just thinking about it feels… very awkward.”

He found this somewhat amusing and said comfortingly: “You’ll get used to it by then. Go to bed early.”

Before leaving, he looked down at Baobao. After the surgery, this child no longer startled awake easily like before or cried until his lips turned purple at the slightest thing. His small face had filled out a bit, becoming pink and adorable. His two little hands were loosely clenched into fists, raised by his pillow in a perfect surrender pose, sleeping very soundly. He had to admit this sight could touch the soft parts of one’s heart.

What would it be like if Baobao called him “Dad”? Back in his room, Gao Xiang leaned against the headboard and imagined it, having to admit he suddenly felt very strange about it too.

This small, sickly child, born with an unhealthy heart, with doctors essentially declaring subtly he didn’t have long and advising them to give up on him—yet he’d survived, and had already changed everyone in his family’s lives.

The shadow of losing a son in old age still hung over Chen Liguo. His health was poor, his spirits increasingly low. He was handing over more and more of the business to Gao Ming, avoiding social affairs and various social obligations when possible, ducking public appearances. He couldn’t dote on his grandson freely like an ordinary grandfather. Every time he looked at Baobao, his expression was always somewhat complex—joy and worry mixed. Chen Zihui, from the moment she learned of Baobao’s existence, seemed to stubbornly channel all the enthusiasm she’d once had caring for her younger brother onto Baobao, escaping the near-hysterical resentment following her brother’s loss. Although Gao Ming maintained a distant attitude toward the whole affair and didn’t at all approve of his son formally adopting Baobao, he never complained about his wife’s devotion to the child.

Gao Xiang had become increasingly accustomed to this child’s presence in his life. As soon as he got home, he’d first go see Baobao. Picking up the baby was no longer as helpless as at first. He’d even learned to change diapers, mix formula, and give medicine. But helping out when his mother and the nanny were too busy was one thing—truly becoming a father was something else entirely. He wasn’t prepared and didn’t know what preparations to make to adjust his mindset enough to welcome the role change that had already arrived.

He had to admit Sun Ruodi’s concerns were reasonable. Having the responsibility of parenthood suddenly dropped on your head—even with blood ties you’d be at a loss, let alone with no connection at all. And the problems Sun Ruodi felt had appeared between them weren’t exaggerated either. Since Chen Ziyu’s incident, he’d had to hide more and more from her. Combined with his mother’s various fabrications, fact and fiction were so intertwined they were hard to unravel. As Zuo Si’an had said, once a rift appears between two people who were originally close, it seems to have a tendency to keep expanding—it’s difficult to return to that initial simple state.

Thinking of Zuo Si’an again, Gao Xiang’s melancholy grew stronger. That day after taking her home from campus, he’d left her his mobile number, telling her she could call if she felt troubled. But she hadn’t contacted him. He almost wanted to call Yu Jia again, but thinking it over, regardless of the reason, Zuo Si’an had a rare trust in him. He was perhaps the only person she could confide in at this stage. She didn’t pin her hopes on him solving all her problems, and he couldn’t play the savior either. After all, Yu Jia was making efforts to maintain the mother-daughter relationship and help her daughter live a normal life. He was just someone unconnected to their lives—offering suggestions out of the blue would be too presumptuous.

Perhaps ultimately only time could heal everything. But making a child wait alone for time to pass in order to gain salvation—wasn’t that too cruel? If Chen Zihui hadn’t been so willful and almost tyrannical in her coercion from the start, if he hadn’t interfered, if Zuo Si’an hadn’t given birth to the child, would life now be easier for her?

Every time he thought of Zuo Si’an, Gao Xiang couldn’t help feeling somewhat melancholy. He of course knew that not only did Chen Zihui think he’d done too much for her, even Yu Jia was grateful to him and wouldn’t make any other demands. But he just couldn’t let this worry go. Was he pitying her? Or did he feel he owed her something and needed to make amends to feel at peace? He couldn’t deny that Zuo Si’an’s keen intuition wasn’t wrong. For him, it seemed to be both, yet far more than just these two things.

Of course, facing a completely innocent child as a victim, anyone would feel pity. Add to that the perpetrator being his relative, and him directly interfering to make her give birth to Baobao, prolonging her suffering—he couldn’t help but feel self-reproach and guilt. He tried hard to make amends also to convince himself to be at peace. But giving care wasn’t the process of self-liberation he’d anticipated. From the small mountain village of Liu Wan in Qinggang all the way to Cuoqin in Ali, he’d developed more and more concern for her. And she’d lost her initial wariness toward him, even beginning to trust him to some degree. Without realizing it, there was an element of emotion bonding them like family.

He thought self-mockingly that perhaps he didn’t need to think of the burden of raising Baobao as too heavy. Given how much he worried about Zuo Si’an, he could already be considered ready for preliminary training in being a father.

7

Winter arrived. Dusk came early and thick. By the time school let out, it had started sleeting lightly. Cold wind howled, and the temperature had suddenly dropped several degrees.

Zuo Si’an came out with her deskmate Wang Wanyi. Liu Guanchao was already waiting outside, handing over an umbrella and reminding her: “Be careful catching the bus. If it’s too crowded, wait for the next one.”

She took the umbrella and saw Liu Guanchao was dressed lightly, his school uniform looking empty. She asked: “Why are you wearing so little? Aren’t you cold?”

“It’s fine. I’m not afraid of cold.”

“Then hurry and go eat.”

He nodded and walked ahead. Wang Wanyi said quietly: “He’s so attentive to you—he must really like you.”

Zuo Si’an opened the umbrella: “We’re friends. I’m the only person he knows here. Let’s go.”

Wang Wanyi disagreed: “We’re already in ninth grade—stop using friendship as an excuse. Li Yang isn’t attentive to me at all.”

Li Yang was Wang Wanyi’s “boyfriend.” The two had been classmates since elementary school and were now in different classes. Of course, at this key school, puppy love was prohibited. Their so-called romance was just sneaking out on weekends behind their parents’ backs to see a movie together or do homework—but it was enough to make their peers with budding romantic feelings envious.

Zuo Si’an didn’t want to discuss this topic, but she’d transferred in and, in her efforts to overcome her tendency to withdraw, had only just become familiar enough with her deskmate. She didn’t want others to interpret her avoidance as unfriendliness, so she had to show a little corresponding interest: “Li Yang plays basketball really well.”

Wang Wanyi was very proud: “Yes, I just like athletic guys. This Liu Guanchao who’s pursuing you—I heard his grades are excellent. As soon as he arrived, he tested into the top ten of the entire tenth grade class, ranking first in math, physics, and chemistry. Very impressive, but he looks too bookish and introverted.”

“His grades have always been very good. If English wasn’t dragging him down, his overall ranking would definitely be higher.”

Wang Wanyi suddenly spotted her father holding an umbrella waiting by the school gate. Instead she frowned and said quietly: “I don’t know if my dad secretly read my diary. He’s been watching me so closely lately. He wouldn’t normally come pick me up in such light rain.”

Zuo Si’an smiled: “Isn’t it good that he came to get you? Go quickly.”

Wang Wanyi stuck out her tongue and ran toward her father. Her father offered her the umbrella, but she didn’t take it. Instead she insisted on holding his arm, squeezing under one umbrella with him. This scene naturally made Zuo Si’an feel envious. She watched them walk away, then turned toward the bus stop. Suddenly she heard someone call: “Xiao An.”

She looked toward the voice. Gao Xiang stood not far ahead, without an umbrella. The streetlight’s glow had a dim yellow halo, illuminating the sleet into long, dense, woven threads that fell on him.

She was somewhat surprised and walked over, raising the umbrella high trying to shield him. He took the umbrella and looked her over: “You seem to have grown a bit taller.”

This completely ordinary comment made her feel a shallow happiness: “What are you doing here?”

“I was passing by. It happened to be dismissal time. Seeing the bad weather, I was worried you’d have trouble catching a bus. Let me take you home.”

“Don’t you need to pick up Sister Ruodi?”

“She’s shopping at the mall. I have time to take you home and then pick her up. Don’t worry, we haven’t been quarreling.” He opened the car door. “Get in.”

She couldn’t help showing a trace of a smile and was about to get in when Liu Guanchao suddenly rushed across the street toward them, his sister Liu Yaqin chasing behind yelling for him to stop. He ignored her, grabbed Zuo Si’an, and said angrily: “Xiao An, how can you still get in his family’s car?”

Zuo Si’an’s face immediately turned deathly pale. Gao Xiang also froze. A month ago, under Chen Zihui’s repeated requests and Gao Ming’s helpless persuasion, Gao Xiang had no choice but to arrange for Liu Yaqin to work at the company. She said to Gao Xiang nervously: “I’m sorry, General Manager Gao. My brother is just a kid who doesn’t understand anything. Don’t mind him.” She grabbed Liu Guanchao and lowered her voice: “Xiao Chao, Mom and I both work for the Gao family. What are you making a fuss about? Come with me quickly.”

Liu Guanchao still ignored her, staring intently at Zuo Si’an. Zuo Si’an said expressionlessly: “I’ve never forgotten what happened to me in someone else’s car last time. You don’t need to keep reminding me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Liu Guanchao’s face went pale too. He involuntarily released his grip. “I…”

“Stop talking.” Gao Xiang interrupted him. “Xiao An, get in the car.”

Zuo Si’an silently got in the car. Gao Xiang closed the door and turned to Liu Guanchao: “Xiao Chao, it’s good that you care about Xiao An, but you should learn to respect her own judgment and ability to act. I’m just taking her home. You don’t need to worry.”

Liu Guanchao stared at him, his eyes full of hostility. Liu Yaqin pushed him hard and said with an apologetic smile: “General Manager Gao, he’s just immature and stubborn. Don’t hold it against him.”

“It’s nothing. Hurry home.”

Gao Xiang got in the car and saw Zuo Si’an huddled in a corner of the seat. He quickly turned on the heat: “Xiao An…”

She shook her head, clearly not wanting to talk. He could only start the car and pull onto the road. The terrible weather made city traffic even more congested. He could only patiently queue in the flow of vehicles, slowly inching forward.

“My father repeatedly questioned me too—why would I get in a stranger’s car? Did he pull me in, or did he trick me in?” She suddenly spoke, her voice low and hoarse, like talking in her sleep.

Gao Xiang’s heart constricted. He almost wanted to say “let the past be the past, no need to bring it up again.” But he knew that interrupting her now would be equivalent to permanently blocking the possibility of her speaking, with a cruelty level no less than Liu Guanchao’s thoughtless words stirring up her memories.

“Actually I really can’t remember clearly. I always told it all jumbled up, contradicting myself. As I talked I’d start crying—same thing when making the police statement. It’s like that thing happened to someone else and I only saw it vaguely from far away…” This time she didn’t cry. Even her eyes were dry, staring blankly ahead at the rhythmic back-and-forth of the windshield wipers.

“Your father just wanted to figure out what happened. He wasn’t trying to pressure you.”

“I know. He felt even worse than me. I won’t blame him. My mother… is just the opposite. She won’t mention it at all, only telling me that bad things, if you don’t think about them, will eventually be forgotten. I think she’s right. But…” A long silence. She closed her eyes. “It’s too hard. Even if nobody reminds me, I can’t possibly forget.”

This conclusion came so oppressively. Gao Xiang held the steering wheel with his left hand and reached over with his right to hold Zuo Si’an’s hand. Her fingers were ice cold, her palm damp with cold sweat.

He still didn’t know how to comfort her. He could only hope to transmit a bit of warmth through this, to pull her back and let her release it rather than sink alone into lonely despair. She seemed to sense his intention, her hand resting quietly in his palm.

Past an intersection came another long red light. Pedestrians surged across the crosswalk. Ahead, a vehicle was blocking a left-turn lane. Behind it, some drivers angrily stuck their heads out cursing, others anxiously honked in protest. Harsh sounds came one after another—the traffic situation appeared even more chaotic. In this sudden clamor, Zuo Si’an opened her eyes. She’d regained her composure, her gaze dull and bewildered as she looked around, then withdrew her hand.

“There’s a traffic jam. I’ll try going another route. Do you want to call home so your mother won’t worry?”

She shook her head: “No need. Her workplace is far—she always gets home later than me.”

“Has she traveled recently?”

“No. She travels much less than before. She’s given up distant places and long-term projects. Actually I don’t want her to do that.”

“It’s hard to balance everything. Everyone has to make choices. This is your mother’s decision—you don’t need to feel pressured.”

She looked silently ahead, her expression dim, clearly knowing she couldn’t manage to not overthink it.

Gao Xiang finally managed to turn the car onto a side road, avoiding the congested main road. After driving a while, he stopped at the roadside: “Wait for me a moment. I’ll be right back.”

He hurried into a small shop with a shabby storefront by the road. After a few minutes, he came back with two paper cups and a paper bag: “This is where I often get coffee. This hot cocoa is for you, and here are cookies the owner baked—try them, they’re delicious.”

She took the hot cocoa, holding it with both hands: “Thank you.”

Hot cocoa and coffee steamed, their mingled rich aroma filling the car. She sipped the cocoa in small sips. He placed the coffee cup in the cup holder and asked: “How’s your schoolwork?”

“You’re so worried about me yourself, yet you want Xiao Chao to stop worrying?”

He was stumped by the question and laughed self-mockingly: “Don’t complain that I’m annoying.”

“It’s alright. I’m gradually getting to know my classmates better. The teachers are good to me. You don’t need to… worry about me anymore. I’m fine.”

“That’s good. You never called me, so I guessed you must be doing well. Coming to check on you isn’t really worry—it’s like how you correspond with Jingjing. You’re not discussing anything important, but if you don’t hear anything after a while, your heart starts to miss it. You think about opening the mailbox to check.”

This comparison made her force a slight smile: “Jingjing’s letters are much better than mine. Little things that happen at school, conversations between classmates, people who come to see Mei Yi for treatment—when she describes them, they become especially interesting. Maybe she can become a writer someday.”

“What about you? What do you want to do in the future?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I don’t seem to have anything I particularly want to do.” The bit of smile disappeared from her face. She hesitated. “I just hope that three years from now when Dad comes back, I’ll be about ready for college entrance exams. I’ll try to test into a good university to make him happy.”

“Xiao An, to him, your happiness is more important. Believe me.”

She still held the cocoa cup, staring blankly ahead: “When I’m unhappy, I go ride the trolley.”

“Ride the trolley?”

“Yes, Trolley Route 1. My neighborhood is the starting station. When I was in kindergarten and elementary school, Dad would take me on this route, drop me off, then go to work. I love this route. After getting on, listening to the conductor call out the stops one by one, watching the streets on both sides, riding from the starting station all the way to the terminal, then riding back—it’s like I can let go of whatever’s bothering me.”

This lonely method of self-consolation made him uneasy. He said: “Try to spend more time with your classmates.”

“I will. Don’t worry.”

When they reached her building, she picked up her backpack and said: “Thank you.”

“If anything comes up, call my mobile anytime,” he put the bag of cookies in her hands, reminding her. “Even if there’s nothing wrong, if you’re just feeling down and want to chat, that’s fine too.” She opened the car door and looked back at him. He thought she was going to say something. But after waiting a while, she only said: “Go pick up Sister Ruodi quickly.”

Zuo Si’an went upstairs and home. She put down her backpack, first went to the kitchen to rinse the rice and put it in the rice cooker, then began tidying the house. Yu Jia had never been good at housework and said she wanted to hire a part-time worker, but Zuo Si’an strongly resisted having a stranger in the house. She’d rather do it herself, so Yu Jia had to give up.

The rice was almost ready when Yu Jia finally got home. She too immediately went into the kitchen as soon as she put down her bag. After Zuo Xuejun went to work in Tibet, Yu Jia had no choice but to start buying cookbooks and learning to cook. She applied her research methodology to the task and came up with some insights: she bought a large refrigerator, did all the shopping at once on weekends, came back to wash and organize vegetables and meat by category, made a big pot of soup and divided it into portions in storage containers to freeze. Usually, Zuo Si’an got home a bit earlier each day and was responsible for rinsing the rice and turning on the rice cooker. When Yu Jia got home, she’d heat up a bowl of soup, make two simple dishes, and occasionally bring home a takeout dish with more complex preparation as a change of taste.

Zuo Si’an wiped clean the shoes her mother had changed out of and put them in the shoe cabinet, hung up the bag and clothes left on the sofa, then continued cleaning. She glanced at her mother’s busy figure in the kitchen—as usual, with an indescribable feeling. That learned, independent, career-minded mother who’d been capable and not at all trivial like typical moms had suddenly begun drowning in housework. The exhaustion went without saying, but she’d also become somewhat careful and cautious, thinking through every sentence before speaking to her, avoiding any words that might trigger associations or misunderstandings.

This unprecedented patience and devotion fell in her eyes, but only made her feel strangely distant. Though living in the same house, they weren’t any closer than her father in Tibet. After she finished cleaning and put the laundry in the washing machine, Yu Jia had the meal on the table. The mother and daughter ate in silence. As usual, she was about to return to her room to do homework when Yu Jia suddenly stopped her and asked as if casually: “Does Gao Xiang often pick you up?”

“Did Xiao Chao call you?”

“I know you don’t like being watched, but he cares about you. I also asked him to look after you—don’t blame him.”

“I know. I won’t blame him. Today Gao…” She realized that despite going to Ali together, she’d almost never thought about how to address him. “He was just passing by and gave me a ride home.”

Her daughter’s docility and self-restraint gave Yu Jia an indescribable sense of defeat. She pondered for a moment and continued: “Gao Xiang is a good young man. He may genuinely care about you. But I think it’s best if you stop having contact with him.”

Yu Jia almost expected Zuo Si’an to stand up angrily in protest, or ask in confusion why. She’d prepared to patiently use reason to persuade her daughter, taking the opportunity to communicate. But Zuo Si’an’s face slowly paled. Her lips moved but said nothing. Yu Jia sighed inwardly, about to speak, when Zuo Si’an suddenly raised her eyes, accurately catching the expression of weariness and helplessness she’d inadvertently revealed. Yu Jia was once again shocked by her daughter’s almost eerie telepathic ability. Under her daughter’s gaze, she could only immediately adjust her emotions and show a smile: “Xiao An, I know you need friends. Xiao Chao can keep you company. You can also try communicating more with classmates. Gao Xiang, he…”

“Don’t worry, Mom. Actually even without you saying it, I’d already made up my mind not to ride in his car home anymore.” Zuo Si’an said peacefully, without any emotion.

Yu Jia froze, suddenly somewhat worried again: “Did something happen? Did he…”

Zuo Si’an smiled, half surprised, half helpless: “What are you thinking? Not everyone will come bully me, okay? I just feel he really doesn’t owe me anything. I don’t want to make him pity me more and more. From now on I’ll leave through the side gate after school. Taking Bus 211 then transferring to the trolley is the same—at most fifteen more minutes. Is there anything else?”

Yu Jia had no response and could only change the subject: “That’s good then. The weather is getting colder and colder. Wear more when you go out in the morning. Last year’s down jacket is much too short now. I’ll take you to the mall this weekend to buy a new one.”

“Okay.” She stood up, then suddenly asked: “Will Dad come home for New Year’s?”

This was a question Yu Jia absolutely didn’t want to answer. Suppressing her inner annoyance, she said as gently and naturally as possible: “Probably not. The Spring Festival holiday isn’t long. If he came back once, all his time would be spent on the road.”

Zuo Si’an nodded without saying anything more and walked toward her bedroom. Yu Jia called after her again: “Xiao An.”

She turned around. Mother and daughter looked at each other, suddenly both finding the other somewhat unfamiliar. Both were frightened by this thought. Yu Jia seemed to momentarily forget what she’d wanted to say and stood frozen in place.

Zuo Si’an knew she and her mother lacked communication, and her mother was troubled by this. She was grateful for her mother’s devotion and hard work, trying hard to repay her by sharing housework, being obedient, and studying diligently. But they’d never been particularly close, heart-to-heart mother and daughter to begin with. Now both deliberately avoided many topics—about what had happened, about the absent man of the house—all had become forbidden zones. With so many obstacles, trying to rebuild an intimate relationship was almost impossible. She said hastily: “I’ll go do my homework first.”

Returning to her room, Zuo Si’an turned on the desk lamp, opened her homework book, but couldn’t put pen to paper. She knew very clearly that Gao Xiang wasn’t really just passing by her school and giving her a ride home as he’d claimed. A year ago today, Gao Xiang had driven her to Qinggang County Hospital for a C-section to deliver a child. The night before, he’d personally witnessed her emotional breakdown at Mei Yi’s home in Liu Wan. Dark memories suddenly churned up. She squeezed her eyes shut, silently repeating to herself: It’s all passed, it’s all passed. These four words were her personal calming spell, slowly soothing her palpitations from waking from nightmares, her unease after surging thoughts, allowing her to forcibly seal away fear and memories in her heart in order to put on the appearance of a normal girl to cope with daily life. However, today these four words didn’t work.

From the moment Gao Xiang stepped into her home, she’d known clearly he was someone’s relative. Their contact began with that nightmare she couldn’t escape. But somehow, at some point, the warmth and care he gave broke through her defenses, letting her gradually accept it without feeling resistant or troubled, even no longer associating him with his identity.

On a day like this, her father was far away in Tibet. The last time he’d called home was half a month ago—after a few brief words he’d hung up. Her mother refused to mention the dark moments she’d experienced. Only he had made a special trip to give her some comfort. She wanted to appear relaxed and natural, but she’d lost control again. Only when he held her hand did she calm down. Looking at his profile, she suddenly realized that each time, she couldn’t help showing her vulnerable side in front of him. If this continued, her dependence on him would grow deeper and deeper. Even if Liu Guanchao and Yu Jia hadn’t warned her in different ways, she couldn’t keep going like this.

From the inner layer of her backpack, Zuo Si’an took out a small, thick notebook—her phone directory, though really only a few pages were used. It contained neatly written numbers: Liu Wan’s only phone number, her father’s office phone in Cuoqin, her mother’s office phone and mobile. Next was Gao Xiang’s mobile number, followed by new classmates’ numbers she’d gradually added. She’d actually already memorized his number, but she still picked up a pen and carefully blacked out his name and number, deciding to forget this person along with everything else she wanted to forget.

8

Gao Xiang picked up Sun Ruodi and headed straight for the new house. This was a spacious duplex, no longer cramped and crowded like that small apartment, located in the city center, not far from the municipal heart disease hospital. They’d moved in less than a week ago. Baobao’s first birthday would be celebrated here. Chen Liguo and Gao Ming had also made the special trip from Qinggang.

Sun Ruodi brought cake and carefully chosen gifts, though Baobao obviously still had no concept of these things. He crawled around on the living room carpet, pushing the various catching ceremony items Chen Zihui had carefully prepared into chaos. No matter how she tried to guide him, he didn’t seem particularly interested in any one thing. The adults gathered around laughed heartily.

After all, Baobao was weak. Soon he showed fatigue, sprawled on the carpet, and grabbed the nearest object—a small calculator. Chen Zihui immediately beamed with joy and scooped him up: “Wonderful! Baobao definitely has business acumen. He can inherit our Chen family business in the future.”

Chen Liguo looked at Baobao with a complex expression: “I’d rather he study hard in the future, ideally devote himself to scholarship.”

“How can that work? He’s…”

Chen Liguo immediately cut off her habitual “our Chen family’s only descendant” that was about to slip out and said with a smile: “Having a little child makes it feel more like a home. I’m old. If I could see Xiao Xiang marry and start a family, then have a healthy child, I’d truly have no regrets.”

Gao Xiang heard the melancholy meaning in his grandfather’s words and was about to comfort him when Chen Zihui was already saying enthusiastically: “Yes! Xiao Xiang, Ruodi, hurry up and get married.”

Sun Ruodi lowered her head shyly without speaking. Gao Ming interjected: “Let them decide this themselves.”

Chen Zihui glanced at him: “The parents from both families should also arrange a time to meet.”

“We’ll see. Mom, check if Baobao needs a diaper change.”

Having diverted his mother’s attention, Gao Xiang walked to the balcony by the dining room to take a call. Just as he was about to return to the living room, Wang Yujiao suddenly emerged from the kitchen to intercept him, saying nervously: “Xiao Qin just called me. If I hadn’t sent her to bring her brother warm clothes, I wouldn’t have known about the trouble Xiao Chao caused. He didn’t realize you care about Xiao An and went to school to take her home. Please be magnanimous and don’t hold it against that foolish boy. I’ll discipline him properly when I get back.”

Gao Xiang said unconcernedly: “I already told your daughter—it’s nothing. You don’t need to scold Xiao Chao either. Xiao Chao does care about Xiao An.”

Wang Yujiao relaxed: “Yes, even though high school is so demanding, he still often goes to tutor Xiao An.”

Sun Ruodi’s voice suddenly sounded behind them: “So you left me waiting at the mall for ages—it wasn’t traffic at all. You went to school to pick up Zuo Si’an.”

Gao Xiang sighed inwardly, about to speak, when Chen Zihui also came over upon hearing: “Why would you still go pick her up? Is her family pestering you again?”

Wang Yujiao quickly explained in fright: “I didn’t say anything. I was just apologizing on my son’s behalf.”

This chaotic scene greatly annoyed Gao Xiang: “Enough. Go cook.”

Wang Yujiao hurried into the kitchen. Chen Zihui finally realized it wasn’t appropriate to say more in front of Sun Ruodi. Unfortunately she’d never been good at smoothing things over. The atmosphere grew awkward until Gao Ming came over to mediate: “Come, come, Ruodi, take another group photo of us with Baobao.”

Sun Ruodi glared at Gao Xiang but complied, picking up the camera to photograph them.

After the family dinner, Gao Xiang drove Sun Ruodi home. Seeing she remained silent, he said: “Thank you for saving face and not walking out.”

“Your grandfather and parents were all there, and it was Baobao’s first birthday. Do you think I’m that inconsiderate?”

He smiled apologetically: “Yes, yes, you’re always the most generous and understanding.”

“Then can you explain why you went to pick up Zuo Si’an again, and why you had to hide it from me?”

“I didn’t deliberately hide it from you. I’ve told you—I care about this child Xiao An. Her father isn’t around. All I can do is occasionally check on her. That’s all.”

“Is it just that simple—caring?”

“The reason I didn’t mention it is I didn’t want you speculating and questioning.”

“This is classic blame-shifting. You’re the one hiding things from me, yet you make it seem like I’m being unreasonable.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Did she ask you to come?”

“Of course not. She’s never actively contacted me.”

“Then why would you think of checking on her for no reason? Don’t tell me you were just passing by. Your company and the mall where we agreed to meet aren’t even on the same road as her school.”

“I suddenly thought of her, so I decided to go see her. That’s all.”

“Out of nowhere, how would you suddenly think of her?”

“Interrogating me like a criminal—what’s the point of this?”

“I already told you—she’s an adolescent girl, sensitive and introverted. If you go care for her, she might misunderstand. What then?”

“You’ve thought it through very thoroughly. You didn’t just warn me—you went early to alert her mother. The mother and daughter have kept their distance from me. She’s never called me. In this past half year, I’ve only seen Xiao An twice total. What’s there to misunderstand?”

Sun Ruodi was stung by his slightly sarcastic tone and angrily shouted: “Stop the car!”

Gao Xiang said irritably: “Here we go again. Miss, please don’t make scenes while I’m driving, okay?”

Sun Ruodi was so angry she didn’t know what to do. Tears immediately flowed out. Gao Xiang pulled the car to the roadside and handed her tissues: “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But we really don’t need to dwell on this issue.”

“I feel like you don’t love me.”

“Where does that come from?”

“You’re keeping more and more from me. There are so many things you haven’t explained clearly to me.”

“Don’t be paranoid, Ruodi. It does no good.”

“Then what exactly is your relationship with the Zuo family? Why do you care so much about Zuo Si’an? You said you and Si’an’s father are friends, so you took her to Ali. But why did her father seem so cold when he saw you? And why does your mother’s tone sound so strange every time she mentions the Zuo family?”

Gao Xiang had no response. Involving Chen Ziyu’s death and Zuo Si’an’s trauma, he neither wanted to overturn the version his mother had fabricated and re-explain Baobao’s background, nor did he want to tell his girlfriend more lies to round out the story. But Sun Ruodi stared at him with her large, tear-glistening eyes, looking like she was waiting for him to come clean. He sighed: “My reasons for caring about Zuo Si’an are completely legitimate, but I can’t explain these questions you’re asking. Please understand.”

“You’re telling me you have secrets you need to keep, and I don’t need to ask—I should just tactfully overlook them?”

“Why do you have to interpret it that way? I’m just saying absolute frankness isn’t necessary. I need you to trust me. As for those things I’m holding back, they have absolutely nothing to do with our relationship.”

“You don’t trust me, yet demand I trust you absolutely. Is that fair? Don’t tell me that demanding absolute fairness is also meaningless.”

Gao Xiang had to admit that from Sun Ruodi’s position, her accusations were valid. For a moment he had nothing to say. Both fell silent. Outside the car, the sleet continued falling. Fog condensed on the windows. Delicate snowflake crystals accumulated on the glass only to melt immediately, forming droplets that trickled away.

Sun Ruodi pulled out a jewelry box from her bag and said quietly: “Before we left your house, your mom pulled me into the bedroom, insisting on giving me a diamond bracelet as a gift. She said she really hopes we’ll get married soon. Take it back.”

“Since she gave it to you, keep it. My mom has always been like this—whatever idea she has, she can’t wait to put it into action immediately. Don’t mind her. I’ll talk to her when I get back and tell her to stop meddling in our affairs.”

“So you’re not in a hurry to get married, is that right?”

Gao Xiang smiled bitterly: “Ruodi, when I urged marriage, you thought my motives were impure. When I don’t urge it, you think I don’t value you enough. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know either. How did we become like this? Before, I thought our marriage was just a matter of time—there were never any other obstacles. At most I hoped you’d be more serious with me, that your proposal would be more pure and romantic. Now I feel so lost. I’m afraid I don’t understand you as well as I thought I did.”

“Don’t think of me as too complicated, Ruodi. Don’t think of things as too complicated either.”

“But I can’t go back to that initial simple state anymore. You care about and value others far more than you do me. My uncertainties about you keep growing. And there’s Baobao—I’m not sure I can handle being his mother…”

He held her hand: “Ruodi, I won’t pressure you. You need time to sort through things. We’ll take it slow.”

“If only I’d agreed right away when you proposed last year. Then we wouldn’t have all these twists and confusions.” She murmured: “Gao Xiang, I’m a little scared.”

“Scared of what?”

She turned to look at him intently and said: “I’m afraid that maybe time will change everything.”

Gao Xiang couldn’t give any answer. They sat quietly, hands clasped together, fingers intertwined as before. Around them was the bustling road, the endless stream of vehicles. Lights shining into the car alternated between bright and dim. Cold rain tapped the windows. A cold sense of loneliness suddenly descended. They simultaneously realized that many of life’s turning points seem to stem from simple decisions, but feel more like arrangements of unknowable fate.

In truth, time had already quietly changed many things.