In the summer of 1996, strong winds toppled young bamboo, and a group of four- or five-year-old children watched wide-eyed as small hailstones fell from the sky.
"That's Popsicle Ice! You can eat it!"
The children cheered, eagerly reaching out their small hands to catch the hailstones.
Teacher Zhao was busy changing the pants of a boy in the corner. The little boy's eyes were lifeless as he stared at the yellow urine on his pants and under his wheelchair, not uttering a single sound.
Seeing the naive children outside picking up and tasting the hailstones, Teacher Zhao, fearing for their safety, forgot that the dark-haired boy's pants were only half off and hurried to bring the children back inside.
Only four little boys remained in the classroom, along with a little girl in the front row who was sleeping due to a fever.
Among the boys was a chubby one named Chen Hu. True to his name, he had a robust and healthy appearance, with plump, rosy cheeks and a frame noticeably larger than the other children.
Chen Hu's eyes darted around, initially focused on the unfamiliar hailstones outside. But being nearby, he caught the smell of urine. He sniffed and turned to see Pei Chuan in the wheelchair trying to pull up his pants.
Unfortunately, his legs were missing below the knees, leaving him unable to even brace himself for support.
After a long struggle, he barely managed to pull up the urine-soaked pants to cover his private parts.
Chen Hu glanced at the urine on the floor and exclaimed in a child's sharp, incredulous tone, "Look! Pei Chuan wet his pants! It's all over the floor!"
The other boys in the classroom turned to look, covering their mouths.
"He's so dirty!"
"I saw it earlier—Teacher Zhao was changing his pants!"
"He's still wearing those pants. Look at where he peed, eww!"
Pei Chuan's pale, thin face flushed with shame. Biting his lip, he abruptly grabbed a picture book and covered the wet, stiff area. Trembling, he glanced toward the teacher outside the kindergarten.
Teacher Zhao, carrying the last child inside, scolded the children, "That's hail! You're not allowed to eat it, understand? I'll notify your parents to pick you up soon!"
Worried the children wouldn't listen, she sternly added, "If you eat hail, you'll never grow tall!"
At this, several children turned pale, their eyes welling with tears as they burst into loud sobs.
"Teacher, will I never grow tall...?"
Teacher Zhao said, "Of course not. Just eat more rice tonight, and you'll be fine."
The innocent children quickly stopped crying and smiled again.
Yet innocence could sometimes be the cruelest. The chubby boy pointed a stubby finger at Pei Chuan and said, "Teacher Zhao, Pei Chuan wet his pants!"
Only then did Teacher Zhao remember the boy in the corner whose pants were only half removed. But the chubby boy's loud exclamation had drawn the attention of everyone in the class.
Pei Chuan trembled, tears streaming down his face in large drops. He hadn't meant to do it, he hadn't...
Soon, the children's naive comments filled the room.
"I stopped wetting my pants when I was three!"
"Mom says kids who wet their pants are dirty."
"Pei Chuan has no legs, and he still wets his pants. Let's not play with him anymore!"
"If we play with him, we'll wet our pants too!"
...
The chattering voices finally woke the feverish little girl in the front row.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her long eyelashes fluttered as she opened her misty eyes. The strong wind tousled her two pigtails. Bei Yao blinked slowly, her breathing hot and labored. Her young body felt weak and powerless. She distinctly remembered dying—so how could this be...?She lowered her gaze, straightening up from the small round table, looking at her soft, plump little hands with their dimpled whiteness.
Behind her, countless voices were shouting Pei Chuan's name. Bei Yao's breath caught as she turned around with disbelief.
The faded memories of the past suddenly shattered through time and became vivid again. Teacher Zhao was only twenty-six this year, radiating the gentleness and vitality of a young female teacher.
The children united in hostility as they looked at the small figure curled in the corner, their eyes filled with disgust.
Through the crowd, Bei Yao could only see the large wheels of a wheelchair and the rigid body of the small child sitting in it.
He gritted his teeth and lifted his head, his eyes—made more striking by his thin cheeks—staring at these innocent, unaware children. The next moment, he fell silent, tears welling in his eyes as he looked down at his pants.
Pei... Pei Chuan...
Though it was just a glance, Bei Yao was absolutely certain—this was Pei Chuan as a child.
A five-year-old boy, unable to control his bladder because his legs had just been amputated, had wet his pants in class. This scene faded from everyone's memory, replaced eighteen years later by the image of a crazed, stubborn, yet utterly cold computer genius.
To many, he was a ruthless devil, obsessively developing software that threatened social stability.
But the devil Pei Chuan was now just a fragile child who had recently lost both his legs.
"Bei Yao," a little girl said, "Let's not play with him ever again!"
Bei Yao, not yet four years old, was the youngest in the class.
She couldn't recall how she had responded in her previous life, but she must have agreed.
Wetting oneself in kindergarten was, to all the naive children, something deeply shameful.
Moreover, that child was frightening—his legs had been severed below the knees, leaving the lower half of his pants empty. The children were both scared and curious.
The classroom fell into chaos as parents rushed to pick up their children due to the hailstorm. Teacher Zhao quickly wheeled the chair away, mindful of the little boy's dignity. She needed to hurry to the restroom to help Pei Chuan change his pants and then organize the children to go home.
Helpless, Bei Yao watched as Pei Chuan was wheeled away, her sickly voice as faint as a kitten's: "Pei Chuan..."
No one heard her, and no one turned back.
She suddenly remembered the twenty-three-year-old Pei Chuan, sitting expressionless in his wheelchair, his voice stiff as he vowed to protect her for a lifetime. The little Bei Yao was lost in thought, sighed softly, and laid her head on the table.
Could it be that he had given too much in their previous life, and now she was here to repay the debt?
~
"Pei Chuan, don't be sad. Your classmates will forget by tomorrow. Teacher has some sandwich cookies here—would you like one?"
Pei Chuan whispered, "I want to go home."
"Then let's wait for your mom, okay?"
Pei Chuan's fingertips were pale as he lowered his head and fell silent.
This was a time without mobile phones; the few who owned "brick phones" were mostly people of status, which Teacher Zhao was not.
Pei Chuan's mother was a surgeon, sometimes busy with operations until late at night. His father was the captain of the criminal police force, a man of considerable standing with a demanding job. Both their professions required utmost precision, so the little boy was occasionally entrusted to neighbors for pickup.
Like Bei Yao's parents, or the parents of children like Chen Hu and Fang Minjun, who would bring him home along the way.Parents arrived at the school one after another. Teacher Zhao had to watch over the children, and with another female teacher taking leave that day, the burden fell entirely on her shoulders, making it impossible to manage everything. Teacher Zhao pushed Pei Chuan, who had just changed his pants, back into the classroom and handed him building blocks to play with.
Pei Chuan hung his head and remained motionless.
Bei Yao watched him with a complicated expression.
If given a chance to relive her life, what would Bei Yao most want to do?
Of course, it would be to stay away from that scoundrel Huo Xu, honor her parents for the rest of her life, and have absolutely nothing to do with Pei Chuan—provided Pei Chuan hadn’t left such a profound mark on her before her death.
Her feelings toward Pei Chuan were complex.
The hailstorm grew heavier, blanketing the sky. Parents rushing in occasionally complained, "What awful weather! It was sunny this morning, and now it’s hailing in the afternoon."
Those with bicycles rode off, while those without carried their children and ran. The children waved goodbye, saying, "Goodbye, Teacher Zhao!"
"Goodbye, Xiao Wei! Goodbye, Lili!"
Soon, Bei Yao’s mother, Zhao Zhilan, arrived with an umbrella.
In 1996, Zhao Zhilan was still young, with no fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Her blue short-sleeved shirt looked neat and full of energy.
Bei Yao shifted her gaze from Pei Chuan to Zhao Zhilan, who was hurrying over, and her eyes instantly welled up.
Zhao Zhilan picked her up and said, "Oh, my poor girl, why are you crying? Were you scared by the hail?"
Bei Yao shook her head, leaning against her mother’s back, her voice choked with sobs. Parents are the kindest to their children—a truth many know but few truly understand.
"Here, hold the umbrella. Mommy’s carrying you and can’t spare a hand. Just rest the umbrella on my shoulder and hold it steady."
After greeting Teacher Zhao, Zhao Zhilan carried her daughter away.
Bei Yao held the umbrella with her small hand, lost in thought for a long while before looking back.
The little boy in the corner, Pei Chuan, did not look at her.
Chen Hu’s father was the first to pick him up from class. The chubby boy rode proudly on his father’s shoulders, looking triumphant.
Fang Minjun’s grandmother, wearing an apron, also took her granddaughter home.
Then came Bei Yao’s mother…
Following his gaze, Bei Yao noticed Pei Chuan’s eyes fixed on a small damp patch on the floor—left behind when Teacher Zhao hastily mopped up the urine without time to properly clean it.
She recalled the man’s cold yet tender kiss eighteen years later, and as she looked at Pei Chuan now, a faint ache stirred in her heart.
This remarkable figure of the future, in his tender and vulnerable childhood, was actually so fragile and lonely.
Bei Yao twitched her fingers, wanting to look at Pei Chuan again, but Zhao Zhilan had already carried her far away in one breath.
Pei Chuan lifted his gaze, his dark eyes fixed on the retreating figure of the little girl being carried by her mother.
They moved farther and farther away until they disappeared from sight.
Overhead, the hailstones fell with a crackling sound, lively as firecrackers. Bei Yao felt weak, unable to speak, burning with fever. In the classroom, only one little boy with pitch-black pupils remained, sitting in his wheelchair.
The kindergarten was not far from home but quite a distance from Zhao Zhilan’s workplace. Zhao Zhilan moved quickly, and within ten minutes, she had carried Bei Yao home through the hailstorm.
The little girl, feverish, had already fallen asleep.
That night, she woke up groggily from the fever. Zhao Zhilan was wiping her back with alcohol, sighing helplessly, "When did this fever start? You didn’t even tell the teacher. I hope it doesn’t make you silly."Bei Licai came in from outside and went over to check on his daughter. Earlier, when Bei Yao had been burning up with such a high fever, both he and his wife had been terrified. Fortunately, Bei Yao’s uncle ran a small pharmacy and was also a doctor. He had come over to examine her and prescribed some medicine. Otherwise, with weather like this, they wouldn’t even have been able to take her to the hospital.
In 1996, Bei Yao was the only child in the family. Her younger brother, Bei Jun, hadn’t been born yet. As first-time parents, the couple took extra care in raising their child.
Bei Licai gently touched his daughter’s soft cheek. "She’s doing better now, not as hot as before."
"Don’t send her to kindergarten tomorrow. When you head out in the morning, just let Teacher Zhao know."
Half-asleep, Bei Yao suddenly heard her parents mention Pei Chuan.
Zhao Zhilan said, "No one came to pick up that child today. Juan’er still hasn’t gotten off work, and Pei Jianguo isn’t home yet either!"
"Such a young kid, and his whole life is already ruined. Ah…"
Their soft sighs drifted into her dreams.
Bei Yao remembered the image of that cold, distant man years later, struggling to get out of his wheelchair to embrace her.
Everyone called him a devil, and she, too, was somewhat afraid of his silent, brooding demeanor.
But that devil was still just a little boy now.
By the time the sky was fully bright, Bei Yao opened her eyes. Her fever had subsided considerably.
Zhao Zhilan was making breakfast, and the door to Bei Yao’s room was open.
Bei Licai entered and headed toward the kitchen. "I just went to ask Teacher Zhao for leave, but she said…"
Peering through the old furniture in the living room, Bei Yao heard a heavy sigh.
"Pei Chuan… no one came to pick him up all night."
Bei Yao froze.
The temperature had dropped last night—the coldest summer night. Pei Chuan hadn’t been able to wait for anyone in the whole world to come for him.
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