The camera panned over their home.
Cobwebs clung to the corners, a greasy tablecloth covered the table, the toilet bore yellow stains, and finally, the shot lingered on a photo hanging on the wall.
It was a family portrait, perhaps the only one they had.
Xu Yan looked to be about four or five years old then, standing at the far right, with Qiao Lin’s hand resting on her shoulder.
Xu Yan felt as if everyone’s gaze was surging toward her.
She nearly sprang from her seat and bolted out of the room.
Next, the host recounted the life of Qiao Jianbin’s family over these years, mentioning the little daughter born beyond the quota, who had become infertile due to premature birth and the medications used.
But her whereabouts weren’t brought up.
Nor was Qiao Lin’s daughter mentioned; the host only said that Qiao Lin had been tirelessly advocating for this matter all these years, which had led to failed romances and the loss of her job.
More than two months ago, one evening, she had—as usual—coaxed the child to sleep, then left the house, walked to the riverbank, and jumped in.
The scene cut back to the studio.
The female host said, just the day before her suicide, Qiao Lin had sent a text message to the program’s editor.
In the message, she wrote:
“Teacher Chen, I beg you to do an episode for us.
This isn’t just our family’s problem—many families have faced similar ordeals.
I believe once the program airs, it will spark a huge response.
If you need any more materials, feel free to contact me anytime.
Wishing you an early Happy New Year!”
The host lowered her eyes and paused for several seconds.
“We dedicate this belated episode to Qiao Lin, hoping she can rest in peace.
At the same time, we hope compassionate lawyer friends will reach out to Qiao Jianbin’s family and help them escape their plight.
Thank you for watching—we’ll see you next time…”
Shen Haoming said angrily, “This is just too damn messed up.”
Yu Lan glanced at him.
“What do you think you’re going to do?
This kind of case isn’t even under your jurisdiction.”
Shen Haoming replied, “I can ask around with my classmates—maybe someone’s willing to take it on.”
Shen Jinsong said, “No need to go to court over this.
With things like this, if you find the right person, it’s settled with just a word.”
Yu Lan asked, “Is there a donation hotline?
We could just send them some money directly.”
The nanny brought out fruit.
The TV had switched to a drama series, but Xu Yan didn’t dare look at the screen, as if the previous footage might leap back out at any second.
She hunched her shoulders, staring down at the plate in front of her, until she heard Shen Haoming say, “Let’s go,” and then she stood up, following him out the door.
She climbed into the car, clutching her bag, her body trembling uncontrollably.
“Where’s your coat?” Shen Haoming asked.
Only then did she realize she’d forgotten it.
“Don’t go back for it,” she said, her tone almost pleading.
The car came to a stop, and she stepped out, finding herself in a vast, empty courtyard surrounded by deep red brick walls.
She shivered and asked, “Where is this?”
Shen Haoming replied, “Su Han’s having a birthday party—didn’t I tell you?”
The house was noisy inside, with a long table pieced together and people filling both sides.
Aside from Su Han, she didn’t recognize a single one.
Shen Haoming introduced them one by one, and she kept nodding, but she couldn’t remember any of the names.
“This is Fang Lei,” Shen Haoming said, pointing to the girl on his right.
“She went to the same school as me in the UK, studying law too—she’s basically my junior.”
The girl smiled.
“You barely studied there for a few days before transferring out, and you still have the nerve to call yourself a senior?”
Shen Haoming said, “Hey, the school’s alumni directory has my name in it.”
The girl raised her eyebrows.
“That’s just so you’ll donate money, okay?”
Shen Haoming laughed.
Xu Yan forced a small laugh too.
The smile faded from her face bit by bit, and tears suddenly welled up.
Qiao Lin was pulling her by the hand up the mountain.
Xu Yan said, “It’s about to rain—let’s head back.”
Qiao Lin replied, “You’re going to Beijing; I have to get you a protective talisman.”
Xu Yan said, “But all the stalls have packed up and gone.”
Qiao Lin insisted, “Let’s just go a little farther up and see.”
A heavy rain poured down, and they dashed into a temple.
The two of them shook the water from their clothes; droplets from Qiao Lin’s long hair splashed onto Xu Yan’s face, and she giggled.
Xu Yan said, “Be serious—the Bodhisattva might get angry.”
Qiao Lin stifled her laughter, glanced around the grand hall, and whispered, “What exactly do people pray for in this temple?”
Xu Yan propped her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand as she quietly wiped away her tears.
Shen Haoming was speaking to a girl named Fang Lei.
“When did you move back?” he asked.
Fang Lei arched an eyebrow.
“How did you know I moved back? Don’t I look like I’m here on vacation?”
Shen Haoming shook his head.
“I don’t believe for a second you could stand living in England.”
They were standing side by side in the middle of the temple hall.
The Bodhisattva’s neck stretched into the shadows, its face hidden in darkness, but Xu Yan could feel a pale shaft of light descending from above.
Qiao Lin whispered,
“Do you think, with so many people praying to her, she can really help them all?”
Xu Yan said softly,
“She probably only helps those she likes.”
Qiao Lin smiled.
“Then she must like me. I used to pray that Mom would give birth to you. I even told her I wanted a little sister. See? The Bodhisattva gave you to me.”
“You were only two back then,” Xu Yan said. “You already knew how to make wishes?”
Qiao Lin replied,
“I couldn’t say the words, but whatever I thought in my heart, the Bodhisattva surely knew.”
Xu Yan murmured,
“If you’d known what would happen later, you wouldn’t have wished for it.”
“I would still have wished for it,” Qiao Lin said. “I’ve never, not for even one moment, thought that you shouldn’t exist. Truly—never. I just often think… it would be wonderful if the two of us could merge into one person.”
She took Xu Yan’s hand. Her palm was burning hot, as if a current of warmth were flowing out from her.
***
“Could you take a picture for us?”
Xu Yan heard someone calling her.
It was Su Han, standing behind Fang Lei and Shen Haoming.
Xu Yan took the phone from her.
Su Han smiled and said to Shen Haoming,
“Do you remember? Back then, every weekend the three of us would drive out to the suburbs for BBQs. Then summer came, and when we got back, everyone was busy — we never hung out again.
Or maybe you two did, just without inviting me.”
Fang Lei shot her a sidelong glance.
“You’re right. We were secretly dating behind your back.”
Shen Haoming nodded.
“Yeah — and then she dumped me. I was so heartbroken I came back to China.”
Su Han laughed.
“Careful, your girlfriend might take that seriously and start a fight later.”
“She wouldn’t,” Shen Haoming said.
***
A faint, cool wind drifted through the hall. The rain seemed to have stopped.
Someone was leaning against the temple doorway, watching them.
He wore a tattered cotton jacket. Against the backlight, they couldn’t see his feet — at first they thought he was sitting, but then realized his short legs were just hidden beneath the coat.
He was a dwarf.
Very old, his face shriveled and folded like a crumpled piece of discarded newspaper.
As they walked out, he spoke from the side.
“Do you girls want to know your fate?”
They exchanged a glance but didn’t stop walking.
“I don’t charge,” he added. “It just passes the time for me.”
He came closer, tilting his head up to look at Qiao Lin.
“You,” he said, “your fortune’s been rocky since early on. You’ve had your share of hardships. But after thirty, things will get better and better.”
Qiao Lin asked,
“What kind of better?”
He replied,
“You’ll have many children and grandchildren. When your time comes, someone will be there to see you off.”
Qiao Lin laughed.
“Having someone at my funeral counts as a good life?”
The dwarf said nothing. He turned his wrinkled face toward Xu Yan.
“You,” he said, “whatever you want in life, you’ll have to fight others for it.”
Xu Yan asked,
“And will I win in the end?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
She frowned slightly.
“You don’t know? So there are things even you don’t know?”
“There are,” he said. “Some things.”
***
Su Han nudged Shen Haoming with her finger.
“You should talk to Fang Lei,” she said. “She’s turned into an angry young woman — nothing pleases her anymore. She spends all day criticizing society.”
Shen Haoming chuckled.
“That’s called reverse culture shock. It’ll pass.”
Fang Lei looked at him.
“Oh, you mean like you? Calmly going about your life as the privileged young master of the Shen family?”
Her tone was sharp, teasing, but carried a faint sting.
Shen Haoming grew defensive.
“Don’t make me sound so cold and indifferent, all right? I’ve always wanted to do something meaningful.”
Then he began talking about a TV program he’d watched before leaving home.
“It was about a couple who accidentally conceived a second child. By regulation, they were supposed to abort it. I forget why, but they delayed it for months — it wasn’t their fault. By the time they went in for the abortion, the pregnancy was already seven months along. The baby was born alive…”
Su Han sighed.
“That’s quite a fate.”
“But it counted as an illegal birth,” Shen Haoming continued. “The father lost his job because of it.”
When the topic shifted to Qiao Lin’s suicide, Fang Lei shook her head.
“To me, that’s the saddest part,” she said. “Because of the problems of the previous generation, the children’s whole lives were ruined.”
Su Han said thoughtfully,
“The interesting thing about that story is — the legitimate sister died, and the illegitimate one survived.
Now the family only has one child left.
So does that still count as over the birth quota?”
Xu Yan left her seat and walked into the restroom, locking the door behind her.
It wasn’t that Qiao Lin didn’t trust her—she had simply lost faith in the world itself.
Xu Yan remembered the last time Qiao Lin had called her. It was early one morning.
She’d said,
“I’m finally out of confinement today.”
Xu Yan asked,
“Is your milk enough for the baby? Are you able to sleep now?”
Qiao Lin didn’t answer those questions. She only said,
“I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I just wanted to tell you. You can get back to work.”
Her voice was calm—neither happy nor sad—but there was a trace of release in it, a quiet relief that seemed to uncoil from deep inside her. It was as though she had been waiting for this day all along—waiting for the baby to be born, waiting to finish the postpartum month.
She had been so desperate to resolve their parents’ affairs, not because she hoped for some new beginning, but because she wanted an ending she could live with—some closure that could bring her peace.
And when that didn’t come, she couldn’t wait any longer.
She had already let go.
Someone outside began knocking on the door, the sound impatient and sharp.
Xu Yan turned on the faucet. Cold water gushed from the tap. She bent down and placed her face beneath the stream.
The noise outside vanished, swallowed by the rush of water.
It felt as if she were sinking into a river, the world muffled around her, and all she could hear was the bubbling sound in her ears.
“I just wanted to come see you,” Qiao Lin said, turning her face toward her with a faint smile. Her eyes—slightly reddened—stared up from the dark, heavy depths of the water.
Then, the light in them went out.
Xu Yan returned to the table and told Shen Haoming that she might have caught a chill and wanted to head home first.
Shen Haoming said,
“Let’s go together.”
In the car, he said,
“Fang Lei got pretty worked up after hearing that news story I mentioned. She said she’s got a few friends who’re lawyers, some of them just back from overseas—maybe one of them would be willing to take the case. I’ll give Uncle Gao a call later, have him talk to the people over in Taian. This incident’s caused a big stir; if they don’t resolve it somehow, they won’t be able to answer for it themselves.”
Xu Yan stared blankly at him.
This—this was what Qiao Lin had traded her life for, she thought.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Shen Haoming looked at her, startled.
“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you actually believed that joke—about me and Fang Lei? We were just kidding around.”
Xu Yan shook her head.
“No, no… it’s not that. I just— I’m touched. You really do have a kind heart.”
She looked at him for a long moment, then reached out and brushed her fingers lightly against his cheek.
He tilted his chin slightly, rubbing it against her palm with a smile.
“I forgot to shave,” he said.
