Jiang Wenjuan brought Pei Chuan home, washed his face, and fetched water for him to rinse his mouth.
Pei Chuan remained quiet the whole time. Jiang Wenjuan looked at the child's pale, delicate face and gently stroked his dark hair. "Why did you bite Chen Hu, Xiao Chuan?"
Pei Chuan lowered his eyelashes. "He stole my biscuit."
Jiang Wenjuan frowned.
She knew Pei Chuan was lying. Their family was among the most well-off in the entire neighborhood. While other households didn't have sandwich biscuits, their home not only had biscuits but also chocolate. Pei Chuan wouldn't fight over a single biscuit.
Even though the child didn't say it, her gaze fell on Pei Chuan's legs, and her eyes immediately welled up with tears. Jiang Wenjuan actually understood the real reason—it must have been because of his leg.
She hugged him gently and then smiled. "Mom will go cook. We'll have dinner soon. Is there anything Xiao Chuan would like to eat?"
Pei Chuan shook his head, his dark eyes watching Jiang Wenjuan's busy figure with quiet understanding.
Pei Haobin didn't return home until evening. He had been busy apprehending a drug dealer recently and often worked late into the night. When he came back, the atmosphere in the house grew still for a moment.
The Pei family owned a color television set in the living room, which was quite a rarity in 1996. Jiang Wenjuan was watching a singing program with Pei Chuan. She didn't turn her head, but Pei Haobin spoke first: "I'm back."
He first glanced at his weary wife, then patted his son's small head.
Pei Chuan looked up at his father, his clear eyes holding no trace of resentment. Pei Haobin felt a faint, almost imperceptible pang in his heart.
Jiang Wenjuan blamed him for involving Pei Chuan, and the two of them argued frequently.
Not long ago, there was a night when both were busy—Jiang Wenjuan performing an emergency surgery as the lead surgeon, and Pei Haobin still at work. Each had assumed the other had picked up Pei Chuan, only to find out upon returning that neither had gone. That night, Jiang Wenjuan cried hysterically until morning.
Although Jiang Wenjuan and Pei Haobin had an arranged marriage, they were very sweet together early on. Especially after Pei Chuan was born, their happiness peaked. But after Pei Chuan's leg was severed, Jiang Wenjuan couldn't help but resent Pei Haobin.
She hated her husband for bringing retaliation upon their son due to his work, causing the child to have his lower leg severed by criminals when he was just four years old.
When she saw Pei Chuan covered in blood back then, Jiang Wenjuan felt as if her heart were being torn apart, shattered beyond repair.
Pei Haobin noticed there was no food left for him in the kitchen. He paused, then cooked himself a bowl of noodles and ate. After finishing, he came to chat with Pei Chuan for a while. He asked questions, and the little boy answered each one, showing remarkable maturity.
Jiang Wenjuan watched coldly. By nine in the evening, she wiped Pei Chuan's face and urged him to go to sleep.
The boy's hand tugged at her clothes.
"Mom," he looked up, "I want to take a bath."
"You haven't been very active today, and it's not too hot. You're not dirty. Let's do it another day."
Pei Chuan pressed his lips together. "I want to take a bath."
He didn't tell Jiang Wenjuan the real reason for his fight with Chen Hu. Frowning, she eventually heated water for him.
She undressed Pei Chuan and placed the thin little boy into the wooden tub.
Pei Chuan's dark eyes fixed on his unsightly severed limb, but he said nothing.
Jiang Wenjuan saw it too—it was a pain almost too heavy for her heart to bear. Yet she couldn't let her young son bathe alone. She patiently washed him, dried him off, and then put him to bed.
Before he slept, Jiang Wenjuan reminded him once more: "Don't hold it in if you need to pee. You must tell your teacher and me, understand?""I know," he said softly. "Mom, could you tell me a story?"
Jiang Wenjuan had just smiled and agreed when someone knocked on the door outside: "Doctor Jiang! Is Doctor Jiang there?"
Pei Chuan watched his mother rush out and never return.
He never got to hear the story, calmly shifting his gaze to the other side of the wall where chalk marks used to measure a child's height once remained. Every year when he grew taller, his parents would joyfully measure him there.
Later, Pei Haobin had wiped them away with tears, leaving only a blurred trace.
Pei Chuan stared at it with open eyes, closing them only after a long time.
He understood he would never grow as tall as his father.
~
August 3rd was little Fang Minjun's birthday. Teacher Zhao led all the kindergarten children in singing "Happy Birthday" to her.
Bei Yao sat among the crowd, clapping her small hands and singing. Looking around, she noticed Pei Chuan hadn't come to school—and of course, Chen Hu was absent too. She grew very anxious inside. Why hadn't Pei Chuan come to kindergarten?
When Bei Yao asked Teacher Zhao, the teacher replied, "Pei Chuan's mother said he won't be attending kindergarten anymore. He'll be starting preschool directly in September."
Bei Yao was stunned.
In her faint memories, she knew about this preschool. It was located within Yubo Elementary School, quite far from the kindergarten and in a different direction.
Just like in her previous life, Pei Chuan ultimately couldn't complete kindergarten.
Teacher Zhao sighed. She pitied Pei Chuan but also understood he didn't belong here anymore.
Because all the kindergarten children had witnessed Pei Chuan fighting—his dark eyes devoid of any light, filled only with coldness toward the world. His ferocity in biting Chen Hu had terrified every child.
Little Bei Yao felt extremely sad.
She kept thinking about it all the way home while holding Zhao Zhilan's hand. In the afternoon, Zhao Xiu came knocking with a palm-sized slice of cake.
With high cheekbones and very thin eyebrows, Zhao Xiu handed the cake to Zhao Zhilan as soon as she entered, then pinched Bei Yao's cheek.
Blinking her large eyes, Bei Yao called out softly, "Auntie Xiu."
Zhao Xiu laughed. "Yao Yao's cheeks are still the most comfortable to touch. Let auntie see—I heard you were sick before. Even being ill didn't make you thinner. Such a round little face, you're clearly blessed."
Bei Yao instinctively looked at her mother.
Zhao Zhilan's face turned as dark as a pot bottom, especially as Zhao Xiu continued: "Ah, not like my Minmin who never gains weight. Though everyone says she looks like Chang Xue and will grow up beautiful, I think Yao Yao looks cuter."
Zhao Zhilan forced a smile. "You're too kind. Your Minmin is very pretty."
Satisfied with the praise for Fang Minjun, Zhao Xiu left contentedly.
Chang Xue was a popular Hong Kong star that year who had starred in many films. Bei Yao would still love this beautiful actress's comedy movies in elementary school. In 1996, Chang Xue was called the "Jade Girl," and Fang Minjun—who bore seventy percent resemblance to her in the eyes and brows—was nicknamed "Little Jade Girl."
Bei Yao faintly felt something wasn't quite right, but her memories stopped at third grade, and she couldn't pinpoint what was wrong.
She thought dejectedly that she had too much baby fat, while little Fang Minjun was truly slender and pretty.
Zhao Zhilan grew even more furious. Being slightly overweight herself, she hated being reminded of it, and Zhao Xiu always knew how to twist the knife subtly. So what if her daughter looked like Chang Xue! She wasn't the real Chang Xue. When it came to children, her Yao Yao was clearly the cuter and more adorable one.Bei Yao stood on tiptoe to reach the cake on the table. Zhao Zhilan said, "You just finished dinner. Eating cake now will upset your stomach."
It was a hard cream cake, also known as margarine cake. Zhao Zhilan couldn't bear to buy such things—their family had both elderly and young members to support. For Bei Yao's birthdays, they usually bought a pack of fruit candies and boiled a bowl of sweetened eggs.
Though Bei Yao was tempted, she shook her head, her eyes curving into two crescent moons. "Let's cut it in half. One piece for Mom, and one for Pei Chuan."
She gestured with her small hands as if cutting it. Zhao Zhilan froze for a long moment before nodding firmly. "Yes, let's bring some to that child."
As Zhao Zhilan cut the cake, she watched her daughter—who was still shorter than the table—gazing eagerly, her heart softening with amusement. "Mom doesn't like sweets. I'll save your share. Come on, let's take this to Pei Chuan first."
They walked around the shaded areas of the neighborhood, where a few households grew vegetables in small plots marked out in the green patches.
Pei Chuan's home was just across the way. The mother and daughter climbed the stairs from the other side and knocked on the door of the fourth floor.
Heavy footsteps approached, and soon Pei Haobin's resolute face appeared. As a criminal police officer, the man carried an air of uprightness. He studied them carefully, recognizing them as familiar faces from the neighborhood but feeling awkward for forgetting their names.
Zhao Zhilan smiled understandingly. "My surname is Zhao. Nice to meet you, Officer Pei. My daughter Yaoyao is classmates with Xiao Chuan. We brought him some cake."
Pei Haobin looked down and saw a little girl with two flower-like buns. Her large eyes sparkled, her skin was fair, and her long, upturned eyelashes made her look like a soft New Year's doll.
The little doll seemed shy. Following Zhao Zhilan's cue, she called out in a milky voice, "Uncle."
Even Pei Haobin felt his heart soften at the sight. He smiled kindly. "Xiao Chuan is in his room. Yaoyao, why don't you go see him? Xiao Zhao, please come in and sit if you don't mind. Let me get you some water."
"No need, no need. It's just a small gesture. Officer Pei, please don't trouble yourself. Yaoyao, go see Xiao Chuan and come out after you give him the cake."
With these instructions, Bei Yao carefully carried the cake and followed Pei Haobin to Pei Chuan's room.
Pei Haobin pushed the door open. A little boy sat upright at the desk, practicing writing in preparation for starting preschool.
"Xiao Chuan, you have a visitor."
Bei Yao watched Pei Chuan nervously. His room was larger than hers, simply designed, with everything neatly arranged—unlike her mother's teasing remarks that her room resembled a kitten's nest.
Pei Chuan turned his head. Through his father's tall frame, his dark eyes caught sight of the tender young girl.
She held a cake no larger than half an adult's palm. Seeing him look her way, she hesitated, unsure whether to smile, and timidly stepped closer.
She raised it high with both hands. "Pei Chuan, this is for you."
He silently watched her.
This girl was not easily discouraged.
The first time, she gave him a paper airplane—he tore it up and even hit her hand.
The second time, it was the most vibrant lotus flower of summer—he tossed it onto the table.
This time, it was a cake, the kind with incomplete cream flowers.
She gazed at him anxiously, her eyes clear and gentle.
He remembered how young she was—over a year younger than him, probably still had another year of kindergarten ahead. Meanwhile, he would start preschool next month and might not see her for a long, long time.
He reached out and took the cake she so carefully offered.The little girl's almond-shaped eyes sparkled like crushed crystal, using them to tell him that this poorly-made cake was delicious—at least it was her beloved treasure.
Pei Chuan still hadn't spoken a single word to her.
Not even a simple thank you.
Yet Bei Yao was utterly delighted, her round little face glowing pink as she prepared to follow Uncle Pei out.
Suddenly, her collar was tugged from behind.
A firm force pulled her backward.
Turning around in confusion, she met the little boy's dark eyes looking down at her from above.
Bei Yao remembered how Pei Chuan had beaten Chen Hu that same way—dragging him over and then... She instinctively wanted to cover her arms. Please don't bite her, if Pei Chuan didn't like it, she would never come again—she was afraid of pain.
Just as she was about to call for Uncle Pei,
The silent boy placed a handful of chocolates into her small pocket, then released her collar, gesturing for her to leave.
Bei Yao felt the prickly candies in her pocket and looked up at him again.
He still hadn't spoken a single word to her, turning instead to grip his pencil and sit upright while writing.
One pencil character after another, each square-shaped and powerfully written.
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