Chapter 43 – “Xiaoxue, live well. Your sister will always love you.”

Three years ago, on the morning of Lunar New Year.

The Shang family of four were happily preparing New Year goods, ready to drive back to their hometown for the holiday.

Their hometown wasn’t far—just beyond the Hucheng Expressway.

But it just so happened that on that stretch of less than 100 kilometers, a thick fog suddenly rolled in, causing a massive chain-reaction crash on the highway.

Cars on the expressway were moving fast.

Each bang from the crash sent shivers down people’s spines.

There were survivors, those with minor injuries—they scrambled out of their cars toward the safety barrier. Some kind-hearted people even ran behind the crash site, waving their hands and shouting to incoming cars to slow down.

But it was useless. Visibility in the fog was under ten meters.

Cars continued to pile in from behind.

The air was thick with the smell of gasoline and blood.

Many vehicles were crushed out of shape; some had severed limbs hanging out of the windows.

Cries for help and desperate screams from men, women, and children overlapped in a harrowing chorus.

Over thirty vehicles were involved, including several vans and large trucks—and even a tanker truck filled with fuel. The devastation was beyond imagination.

The Shang family, tragically, were caught in the crash.

Fortunately, Shang Guojun noticed the accident ahead in time and quickly slowed down, changing lanes toward the shoulder of the expressway where the damage was less severe.

Their car was hit, but not badly.

They thought they had been lucky. But just as he urged his wife and two daughters to get out quickly and move to safety, a piercing horn blared from behind, accompanied by violent rumbling and the clanging of metal.

A 16-meter-long semi-truck loaded with steel rebar slammed into them.

That driver probably knew his truck was carrying a deadly load. If he couldn’t brake in time, it would lead to an even worse disaster.

With death looming, he tried to brake while veering toward the guardrail, hoping to use its resistance to slow down.

But how could he stop such a massive truck in under ten meters?

With a crash, the steel bars, driven by momentum, burst through the front of the truck. The driver died instantly.

On the side of the guardrail, the Shang family’s vehicle wasn’t spared. One steel bar flew directly through the side door, piercing the backseat.

Shang Guojun and Liu Xiujun instinctively reached for their daughters in the back—but it was too late.

A single steel bar pierced through both girls.

At that moment, Shang Guojun and Liu Xiujun felt like they couldn’t even breathe. They couldn’t scream, couldn’t speak.

They watched as their daughters cried out to them, “Daddy, Mommy… it hurts.”

But they were powerless.

The steel bar was so long that it pinned both sisters together and was lodged into the car door. They dared not move, afraid any attempt to open the door would cause even more harm.

The backseat was covered in the sisters’ blood.

Their consciousness began to fade.

Liu Xiujun, her voice trembling, forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t let her daughters see her afraid. She said:

“Don’t be scared, my babies. Mommy is right here with you. The rescue team is coming. You’ll be saved soon. Just hang on a bit longer. You’re the bravest girls. Please, don’t fall asleep, okay?”

She kept soothing them—over and over, to calm them, and to calm herself.

Their only hope now was that the rescue team would arrive quickly. People ahead were already shouting for everyone to run—there were signs the tanker was leaking fuel.

When the rescuers arrived—

Shang Yu was on the verge of losing consciousness. The steel bar had pierced her chest, and she was bleeding far more than Shang Xue.

Seeing the rescue team, Shang Guojun scrambled out and crawled to them, begging for them to save his daughters.

But things went from bad to worse. A nearby car began leaking fuel with an ominous drip drip drip. The twisted metal made using cutting equipment extremely difficult in the narrow space.

Worse yet, they assessed that the leak from the tanker would result in an explosion far sooner than they could complete the rescue.

Evacuation began.

Rescue workers quickly evaluated the girls’ injuries and assessed the situation. Due to the space constraints, they decided to cut from the easier side first.

After severing the steel bar with hydraulic shears, Shang Xue was the first to be rescued.

Doctors were already standing by. She was loaded onto the ambulance and immediate life-saving treatment began.

Next came Shang Yu.

But rescuers discovered her leg was pinned between the deformed car frame and the passenger seat. She couldn’t be moved at all.

Meanwhile, the gasoline leak was spreading fast. Foam wasn’t enough to cover the entire area.

The flammable vapor concentration was nearing critical.

And Shang Yu’s case was too complex—there was no way they could finish the rescue in time.

To avoid more deaths, all personnel were ordered to evacuate immediately.

Liu Xiujun cried so hard that her vision went black. She gripped the guardrail, unable to look into the car at Shang Yu. Rescue workers dragged her away.

Shang Guojun pleaded helplessly, his eyes wide as he watched the flames erupt.

Boom!

All around the safe zone were wails of anguish.

Everyone was crying for the loved ones and friends who had not made it out—who would forever remain on that road.

Liu Xiujun fainted.

Lunar New Year—supposed to be a day of joyful family reunion.

But that day, they lost a daughter forever.

What they didn’t know was that when Shang Xue was placed in the ambulance, she was still conscious.

She saw her sister swallowed by the roaring flames. In her ear, the last words her sister whispered echoed:

“Xiaoxue, live well. Your sister will always love you.”

Even now, whenever she’s in a car, Shang Xue still hears that voice in her head.

Do you think she didn’t grieve for her sister? That she didn’t suffer?

But the dead are gone. The living must keep going.

She watched her parents burn incense before her sister’s spirit tablet before every meal. No one was allowed to eat until the incense burned out.

Every week, they’d spend a full day kneeling in that dark room, fasting and punishing themselves.

Her mother had cried while wiping her sister’s memorial tablet every night for three years. Her eyes had deteriorated so badly from the crying that her vision was now blurry.

Every New Year, the house was draped in white cloth. Every dish on the table was a tribute.

She had tried to persuade them. But three years passed. Nothing changed.

So she changed her tactics. She started fighting, yelling—trying to shake them awake with anger.

After all, she and her sister always had a deep bond. She could feel her sister’s presence.

And she was sure her sister, too, was saddened by what their home had become.

Yesterday’s durian pastry had just been the final spark that lit the fuse on an already crumbling family.

Lately, every time she lashed out, her parents would yell at her—calling her an ungrateful wretch, saying they wished they were dead.

This time was no different.

Liu Xiujun snapped back to her senses, grabbed Shang Yu’s spirit tablet from Shang Xue’s hands and hugged it tightly, pointing at her daughter’s nose.

“You! YOU! She was your sister! And you wanted to burn her spirit tablet?! She loved you the most when she was alive! You ungrateful little brat!”

Shang Xue’s tears were flowing freely now.

In a pleading voice, she said, “Mom… Dad… please let go. Let her go too. Please?”