Lu Qinglian muttered, “Why keep studying? Tinglan’s life is already ruined.”  

Zhao Xiangwan’s voice turned icy. “You never even contacted the school—how do you know she can’t return? Tinglan’s only in her twenties. Her life isn’t over.”  

Lu Qinglian shrank under the sudden scrutiny. The neighbors, once sympathetic, now kept their distance.  

“Ah, the poor child suffered so much to come home, and instead of comfort, you called her a disgrace?”  

“When you brought her back yesterday, she was so thin—my heart ached. I know it’s hard for you, but… the child’s suffering more.”  

“What do you gain by pushing her to death?”  

“Lu Qinglian couldn’t respond. Her face went from pale to red—her tears had already dried up.”

A deep, rough male voice cut in sharply: “It didn’t happen to you, yet you’re lecturing me one by one. If she’s brave enough to die, then let her! I, Jiang Fugui, might as well act like I never had this daughter!”  

Lu Qinglian, hearing this, rushed over in tears. “Fugui, our lives are ruined… completely ruined.”  

Jiang Fugui held his wife with his right hand. Half of his face stayed stiff and emotionless, while the other half twisted in anger. His mouth was crooked, making him look terrifying.  

“We raised her with such high hopes, thinking she’d have a bright future. But look at her now—utterly disappointing! She got herself kidnapped just by going to school. Now she looks like a ghost. What’s the point of keeping her in school? Just marry her off to some rural family!”  

Zhao Dacui bristled at the phrase “marry her off to the countryside.” It brought back painful memories—what if she ended up with a drunkard who beat his wife?  

“How can you disown your own daughter? As long as she’s alive, no matter how broken she is, she’ll still be your support in old age^[1]In rural culture, children, especially sons, are expected to care for parents in their later years.. Things haven’t gone that far yet—why force her into a rushed marriage?”  

The neighbors nearby sided with Zhao Dacui, speaking up for her.  

“I’ve never seen parents as heartless as you!”  

“Xiang Wan is right. You’re just saving face but suffering inside! Plenty of girls get trafficked—it’s in the newspapers every year. Should they all just die?”  

“Blame the kidnappers, the traffickers—may they rot without descendants! Why curse your own child?”  

“This is unbelievable. The police finally rescued your daughter, and you’re pushing her toward death!”  

Jiang Fugui’s face twitched, his chest heaving violently as he glared at the crowd. With half his body paralyzed and his expression frozen, he looked almost monstrous.  

Lu Qinglian shrank behind him, too ashamed to lift her head. Stammering weakly, she muttered, “No… no…”  

A nurse hurried out of the emergency room. “The patient lost too much blood—the baby couldn’t be saved. Family, come sign the papers.”  

Though Jiang Fugui acted tough, this was still his only daughter. His heart ached, and he sighed, closing his eyes. Lu Qinglian clenched her teeth. “If it’s gone, then it’s gone. We never wanted it anyway!”  

A chaotic rescue operation unfolded.  

The neighbors lingered for a while but left when there was nothing more to do.  

Zhao Dacui had prepared bone broth and pickled cabbage with shredded pork the night before, planning to open her rice noodle stall at six. Now, running late, she grew restless and glanced at Zhao Xiangwan. “Let’s go home.”  

Zhao Xiangwan shook her head. “Aunt, I’ll wait for my cousin.”  

Knowing her stubbornness, Zhao Dacui handed her a spare key and left in a hurry.  

Three hours later, Tinglan was finally wheeled out of the emergency room.  

Fan Qiuhan, following behind, was startled to see Zhao Xiangwan still waiting. He pulled her aside. “Why are you still here? Did you even eat breakfast?”  

Zhao Xiangwan shook her head.  

Fan Qiuhan huffed in frustration. “You! This isn’t your problem—why stand here all morning?”  

Zhao Xiangwan glanced at Tinglan’s pale face on the stretcher and whispered, “Cousin, you haven’t eaten either. I’ll keep you company.”  

Fan Qiuhan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. I know you—you just pity Tinglan, don’t you? She’s still under anesthesia. Let’s grab food first, then come back.”  

They ate at a breakfast stall near Chengguan Hospital before returning. Before they reached the ward, Jiang Fugui and his wife’s voices rang out.  

“Just stay hospitalized the rest of the year. Waste it here. The baby’s gone—good riddance anyway.”  

“Useless. Should’ve adopted a son from the village. Better than a worthless girl!”  

Fan Qiuhan’s face darkened—disgusted by their blatant favoritism.  

Zhao Xiangwan knew convincing such parents was pointless. She nudged Fan Qiuhan. “Distract them. I’ll talk to Tinglan.”  

Nodding, Fan Qiuhan changed into her nurse uniform and entered the ward. “Aunt Lu, Uncle Jiang, some documents need signing. Come with me.”  

With them gone, Zhao Xiangwan slipped inside.  

Under the white sheets, Tinglan looked ghostly pale. Her eyelashes trembled, tears clinging to them—she’d been crying.  

“Tinglan.” Zhao Xiangwan bent down, voice soft.  

Tinglan opened her hollow, despair-filled eyes. Recognizing Zhao Xiangwan, she shut them again, tears streaking down.  

[It’s you… I’m sorry. I wanted to study, but they won’t let me.]  

Too weak to speak after blood loss and miscarriage, Tinglan could only mouth the words.  

Zhao Xiangwan pulled out a crisp hundred-yuan bill, folded it, and tucked it under Tinglan’s pillow.  

Tinglan weakly resisted, breath ragged. “No… I can’t—”  

Zhao Xiangwan held her gaze firmly. “I’m Zhao Xiangwan, a 1991 criminal investigation major at Hunan Provincial Public Security University. During my internship at Xing City Police, I handled a case where a trafficked student just needed a police certificate to restore her enrollment. You can go back to school.”  

A blinding light suddenly flashed into Tinglan’s eyes.  

“Don’t give up. Focus on recovering first. I asked the nurse—based on your condition, you’ll likely need to stay in the hospital for half a month. Don’t argue with your parents. Eat and drink properly. Your health comes first. Once you can move around, call your college classmates or teachers and explain your situation. Ask them to notify the school in advance. After you recover, go to the police station for a new ID card, get the necessary documents, and return to school.”  

With every word Zhao Xiangwan spoke, Tinglan nodded weakly. It was as if strength seeped back into her body, her pale cheeks slowly regaining color.  

After finishing, Zhao Xiangwan pointed at Tinglan’s pillow. “Take this money first. Train tickets, phone calls, and paperwork all cost money. If your parents refuse to let you go back to school, go anyway! Don’t let their opinions stop you. Once you’re there, find a way to work and study—you can support yourself.”  

Tears welled in Tinglan’s large eyes, spilling silently down her frostbitten cheeks and dampening the pillow. On the train, Zhao Xiangwan had told her that being abducted wasn’t her fault. Now, she had returned to show Tinglan a clearer path forward.  

There are still good people in this world.  

Seeing her understanding, Zhao Xiangwan spoke faster: “I came while your parents were gone. I have to leave now. Just remember—only the living have hope.”  

As she turned to go, a weak hand clutched the hem of her clothes. Zhao Xiangwan looked down at Tinglan.  

Straining, Tinglan mouthed soundlessly:  

[Don’t worry, I won’t try to die again. I’ll go to school, study hard, and repay you.]  

Hearing her silent vow, Zhao Xiangwan’s eyes burned. She nodded gently. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”  

Tinglan’s thin hand dropped limply onto the bed. Zhao Xiangwan was right. Only the living have hope. If she died now, all her years of struggle would mean nothing.  

_

Back at the old house, Zhao Xiangwan pulled out the fresh grass carp and old hen she’d bought from the market and began preparing them with practiced ease.  

Zhao Dacui had lived here for years, and Zhao Xiangwan had stayed with her during school breaks. The neighbors, familiar with her, called out warmly:  

“Zhao Xiangwan, even in college, you’re still so diligent! Look at you—scaling fish and butchering chickens like a pro.”  

“The way you shut Lu Qinglian up today was satisfying. You’ve got a sharper tongue than your aunt!”  

“Lu Qinglian and Jiang Fugui moved in last September. This is your first time meeting them, right? Half a year at university, and you’ve grown even more impressive.”  

Beneath their praise, unspoken judgments lurked.  

[At her age, so sharp-tongued. What kind of future does she have?]  

[Girls who read too much—who knows if it’s good or bad? Look at Zhao Xiangwan, even daring to scold her elders.]  

[Skipping Little New Year with her own family to stay at her aunt’s. Wonder what her parents think.]  

Zhao Xiangwan ignored them. She’d heard it all before—none of it mattered anymore.  

After rinsing the blood from her hands and the cutting board, she set the fish aside to drain and chopped the chicken into the casserole to stew. Then she plucked garlic and leafy greens from the garden. Once everything was prepped, she arranged the fish and vegetables on the table, waiting for her cousin and aunt to return.  

Fan Qiuhan was supposed to be off today, but the head nurse had called her in to help with Tinglan’s hospital transfer. So Zhao Xiangwan had come back alone.  

_

“Third Sister!” A familiar voice rang from the alley.  

Zhao Xiangwan turned. A broad-shouldered figure stood there, grinning. “Brother!”  

Zhao Bowen jogged over, a bag of milk candies in one hand and apples in the other. “You’re finally back! I was scared you’d stay at school for New Year’s again.”