Night Wanderer

Sheng Qingrang hung up the phone after speaking, his other hand reaching past Zong Ying’s waist to dial the number and contact the Municipal Police Station of the International Settlement.

After several transfers, he explained the situation regarding his second sister to the person in charge, earnestly requesting their assistance in keeping an eye out and informing him immediately if there was any news.

From his account, Zong Ying learned that his second sister had left early in the morning to buy a cake, but as dusk approached, there was still no word from her. Qinghui, feeling uneasy, had called Sheng Qingrang to ask for his help in searching for her.

Normally, an adult being late to return after going out wouldn’t be a big deal, but these were wartime conditions—nothing was as it used to be. Qinghui’s worry and anxiety were not unfounded.

Sheng Qingrang set down the receiver and lowered his gaze to meet Zong Ying’s eyes. “What is it?”

Zong Ying didn’t answer, still tilting her head to look up at him—dressed in pajamas, his hair unusually tousled from sleeping while still damp, his freshly awakened face devoid of the polite distance he usually maintained, making him appear more genuine.

Sensing her scrutiny, Sheng Qingrang abruptly averted his eyes and glanced at the wall clock.

5:17 PM—meaning he had slept on the sofa for nearly twelve hours, while Zong Ying had watched over him the entire day.

He suddenly felt awkward and quickly turned away, saying, “I’ll go freshen up.”

Zong Ying watched as he strode toward the bathroom, then returned to the dining table to pick up the old book she had been reading. She flipped a few more pages but found herself unable to focus.

She walked into Sheng Qingrang’s bedroom, opened the dresser, and retrieved her set of clothes from its usual spot.

Just as she finished changing, Sheng Qingrang emerged from the bathroom. She moved aside with the hospital gown in hand, and without waiting for him to speak, she closed the door behind her and stood outside to wait.

The evening sun streamed into the room, casting a serene glow.

If they didn’t have to go out and there were no external disturbances, this apartment truly was a peaceful and reassuring place.

How much longer would Sheng Qingrang stay here? Until the lease expired, or until the day he decided to leave Shanghai?

Would he leave Shanghai with the rest of the Sheng family?

Lost in thought, Zong Ying heard the bedroom door open. She turned to see him with neatly combed hair, dressed in clean clothes, carrying a briefcase—clearly preparing to go out.

Sure enough, he said, “I need to go to the residence now.”

Zong Ying nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

Seeing that she had changed earlier, Sheng Qingrang had guessed she intended to follow.

Perhaps it was for the best—leaving her alone here was something he couldn’t feel at ease about anyway.

When he didn’t object, Zong Ying picked up the teacup from the table and handed it to him, urging, “Drink some water.” Then she turned back to the kitchen, rummaged through the cupboard, and retrieved a box of biscuits.

She carried the biscuits to the entryway to change her shoes while Sheng Qingrang reached for his trench coat on the rack.

She opened the door, feeling a coat drape over her shoulders from behind. Stepping outside, she turned to see Sheng Qingrang silently locking the door, offering no unnecessary words.

Once the door was secured, he held his briefcase in one hand and lightly touched her back with the other in a symbolic gesture. “This way.”

Retrieving the bicycle from the service office under Mr. Ye’s inquisitive gaze, the two stepped outside.

The daytime heat had faded, replaced by a cool breeze.

The sky was painted with layers of golden clouds.

Zong Ying adjusted the trench coat, rolling up the slightly long sleeves, and settled onto the bicycle’s rear seat.

As the evening wind brushed past her face, she opened the box of biscuits and asked Sheng Qingrang, “Are you hungry? I brought some biscuits.”Sheng Qingrang, riding his bicycle, freed his left hand and reached back to take a biscuit from her—chocolate-filled, cloyingly sweet.

His growling stomach found momentary solace with this small morsel of food, and the road ahead seemed less bleak as dusk approached.

They returned to the Sheng residence just before the public concession gates closed, coinciding with the return of the eldest sister-in-law.

The main gate was wide open. Uncle Yao was parking the car when he spotted them. He turned off the engine and stepped out, asking, "Third Young Master, what brings you here?"

Sheng Qingrang replied, "I have some matters to discuss with Eldest Brother and Sister-in-Law."

With that, he took Zong Ying’s hand and strode straight toward the mansion.

The sun had fully set, and the plane tree leaves in the courtyard rustled as they fell, swept forward by the wind only to be halted at the threshold of the entrance.

Only a single lamp was lit in the living room, yet nearly everyone was present—except for Second Sister.

The children stared longingly toward the kitchen, eager for dinner, but since not everyone had arrived, no one set the table.

When Sheng Qingrang and Zong Ying entered, a servant emerged from the kitchen and asked the eldest sister-in-law, "Madam, shall we serve dinner?"

Having just heard from Qinghui about Second Sister’s situation, the eldest sister-in-law was somewhat concerned. She told the servant, "No, wait a little longer."

Then she turned to Sheng Qingrang and Zong Ying. "You’re here too? Please, have a seat."

Sheng Qingrang acknowledged her and pulled out a chair for Zong Ying.

The eldest sister-in-law instructed the servant again, "Prepare a little more for dinner."

The servant nodded and returned to the kitchen. Sheng Qingrang retrieved a kraft paper envelope from his briefcase and handed it to the eldest sister-in-law. "Everything’s inside. Please verify."

The envelope contained the necessary exit permits and travel tickets for leaving Shanghai—all arranged by Sheng Qingrang.

The eldest sister-in-law could only express her gratitude. The family owed him too much to repay easily, and in the end, she simply added, "Thank you for your trouble."

She then glanced toward the open door and sighed. "Qingping still isn’t back."

The sky darkened further, the gate remained open, yet no one appeared.

Second Sister’s Husband grew restless. "She must have gone to Avenue Joffre to buy cake and got dragged into a mahjong game by Mrs. Yao again. I’ll go find her!" Without even grabbing his coat, he found a bicycle and sped off.

Qinghui sat on the sofa, flipping through a book under dim light, though she had long stopped reading.

The eldest sister-in-law turned to the nanny. "Did A Hui eat anything later?"

The nanny shook her head worriedly. "He said he had no appetite and insisted on waiting for his mother to return."

Eldest Brother, seated in his wheelchair, interjected, "How can we indulge a child’s tantrums? If he refuses to eat, does he mean to starve? Call him down for dinner."

The nanny hesitated, so the eldest sister-in-law said, "Bring him a bowl of soup upstairs."

Hearing that A Hui was allowed to eat, the other children grew even hungrier. Yet without the eldest sister-in-law’s permission, they could only watch the wind scatter fallen leaves under the porch light and listen to the autumn insects chirping outside.

Night fell completely, but Second Sister and her husband still hadn’t returned. Even the hushed conversations in the house died down.

Finally, when the children’s faces drooped with hunger, the eldest sister-in-law relented. "Let the children eat first. We’ll wait for Qingping."Zong Ying sat beside Sheng Qingrang, drowsy and on the verge of sleep, when the sound of her sister-in-law's voice jolted her awake. She fished out a pillbox from her pocket, measured out a dose, and was about to swallow it dry when Sheng Qingrang suddenly reached out to stop her. "Wait," he said, "let me get you some water."

He stood up to fetch the water but hadn't even reached the kitchen when the telephone in the house rang abruptly.

A servant hurried to answer it, listened for a moment, then turned around in confusion. "It's a foreigner," she said to Sheng Qingrang. "I can't understand them."

The room fell silent for a beat. Sheng Qingrang said, "It might be the Concession Police Station."

He strode over, took the receiver from the servant, and the voice on the other end spoke regretfully: "I'm so sorry."

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over him, chilling him from head to toe, sending a shiver down his spine.

The voice on the line slowly recounted the sequence of events, the outcome, and what needed to be done next. Sheng Qingrang listened in silence, barely speaking a word the entire time.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for him to relay the news.

With a soft click , Sheng Qingrang set down the receiver. After a moment of silence, he turned around slowly.

The house was eerily quiet. The grandfather clock in the living room struck eight unhurriedly.

Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.

"Second Sister is gone," he said.

Qinghui froze. The sister-in-law instinctively opened her mouth but hesitated, unsure how to ask. Zong Ying, clutching a handful of pills, simply looked at him without a word.

Sheng Qingrang continued, "There was a small-scale gunfight near New Garbage Bridge today. Second Sister was caught in the crossfire. By the time she was taken for emergency treatment, it was already too late."

The eldest brother slammed his wheelchair in fury. "What was she doing at New Garbage Bridge just to buy a cake? What was she thinking?!"

His voice was hoarse with rage, his eyes red. The children were frightened into silence. The living room was deathly still—even the servant who had come in with dinner didn’t dare take another step forward.

Qinghui clenched the book in her hands. The sister-in-law slumped her shoulders and sighed. Zong Ying stared at the dark doorway.

No one would ever raise their voice again, scolding and lecturing everyone all day long.

Just this morning, she had been arguing with the sister-in-law, speaking quickly and sharply. Then she walked out that door, like a lone boat swallowed by the vast ocean, silently capsized by the waves—now nothing remained but an empty expanse.

Gone in the blink of an eye.

War was brutal and merciless in its reach.

Qinghui suddenly burst into tears, and the youngest child wailed loudly.

Amid the chaos, Sheng Qingrang could only remain composed. He walked over to Zong Ying, picked up his briefcase from the table, and said to his eldest sister, "I’m going to the police station now."

Zong Ying followed him. He turned and whispered close to her ear, "Curfew is about to start. It's dangerous outside. Do you want to stay here?"

Zong Ying shook her head. "Wherever you go, I go."

He met her gaze, then without another word, tightened his grip on her hand and led her out the door.

Uncle Yao drove them to the Concession Police Station, then to the hospital, where they finally found Second Sister in the morgue.

Zong Ying still remembered her haughty demeanor, but now her small handbag was missing, her expensive jewelry gone. The carefully styled curls that once framed her forehead now lay limp and lifeless. Her face was pale, and the dark green qipao, loose around her waist, was stained with a large patch of blood.

Sheng Qingrang was silent. Zong Ying sighed.

After completing the necessary formalities, Sheng Qingrang prepared to return to the mansion—but it was already nearly ten at night.In just a few minutes, he would leave this era, and today's matters would certainly remain unfinished.

At that moment, Zong Ying got into the car, glanced at the time, and said to him, "I'll take Second Sister back to the residence. You go attend to your business."

Uncle Yao asked in confusion, "What business could Third Young Master have at this hour?"

Zong Ying fabricated a reason for him: "It must be something urgent from the Municipal Council. He should be back by tomorrow morning, right?" As she spoke, she looked at Sheng Qingrang, silently urging him to "leave now and return to the residence tomorrow morning."

Without waiting for Sheng Qingrang to respond, she handed him the remaining half-box of biscuits, decisively pulled the car door shut, and said to Uncle Yao, "Let's go."

Sheng Qingrang stood in place, watching the car drive away. Zong Ying turned around and parted the curtain to look at him—just as the clock struck ten, he vanished into the dimly lit street.

The car sped through the night, and as Zong Ying gazed at the empty streets, her chest felt hollow as well.

During wartime, even funerals were simplified. An obituary was published in the newspaper, family members were called together, and just like that, a person was sent off forever.

The accident that befell Second Sister only strengthened the family's resolve to leave Shanghai.

Qinghui no longer insisted on staying in Shanghai and agreed to follow Eldest Brother and his wife to the interior. Second Sister's Husband took A Hui by boat to Hong Kong, while Sheng Qingrang remained in Shanghai.

On the day of departure, the living room was already filled with luggage.

Everyone was busy with preparations, except Qinghui, who stood gloomily by the door, waiting for the photographer to arrive.

She had always loved taking photos, and now that she was leaving Shanghai, she wanted a keepsake.

As she lost herself in thought, a jeep suddenly stopped at the gate. A young man in military uniform stepped out and strode toward the house.

It took Qinghui a long moment to react, and she cried out in disbelief, "Fourth Brother!"

She hadn't particularly liked Fourth Brother, but seeing a family member return from the front lines filled her with an inexplicable sense of relief and gratitude.

Fourth Brother looked disheveled, his face still bearing traces of injury, as if he had rushed here from somewhere unknown.

He walked to the entrance, glanced down at Qinghui, and said, "Shorty." Then, brushing the dust off his clothes, he casually replied to her questions—"Why are you back? Did you see the newspaper?"—with, "I came to report. Just stopped by for a look. I’ll leave right away."

As he spoke, he stepped past Qinghui and looked at the suitcases inside. "Leaving, huh?"

Qinghui gave an unhappy "Mm."

Fourth Brother paid no attention to the sadness in her voice. He walked to the family portrait hanging on the living room wall and removed his military cap.

Qinghui said, "Second Sister is gone."

Fourth Brother remained silent, recalling how Second Sister used to tease him for not knowing how to tie his shoelaces as a child. He put his cap back on, adjusted his collar hook, and said, "She won’t get to laugh at me anymore."

The atmosphere grew heavy until a servant called from outside, "Fifth Young Miss, the photographer is here!"

Qinghui turned and went out. The photographer asked where and how they wanted the photo taken, and Qinghui explained everything clearly before personally calling the family out for the picture.

Children of all ages, Second Sister's Husband, Eldest Brother's Wife, Eldest Brother, Fourth Brother, and Sheng Qingrang and Zong Ying, who had been discussing matters upstairs.

Qinghui arranged the positions, saying, "Third Brother should stand in the very center." No one objected.

She wanted Zong Ying to stand beside Sheng Qingrang, but Zong Ying avoided it, saying, "You take the photo. I won’t be in it."She took a few steps back, the scene before her so familiar that she clenched her fists involuntarily—this was one of the two group photos she had seen on Sheng Qiushi's phone.

At the time, she only knew it was a family portrait, unaware that it was a memento taken before the family members went their separate ways.

Now she finally understood why that photo existed, why Sheng Qingrang stood in the center, and why the second sister was missing from the picture.

In wartime, every farewell could be the last.

And this family portrait before her might very well be the last photograph these people ever took together.