Night Wanderer

—December 24, 1905, 16:30—Sheng Qingrang is born at Guangren Hospital on Avenue Road in Shanghai's International Settlement.

The nurse wraps the newborn and shows him briefly to his birth mother by the delivery bed before promptly handing him over to the servant sent by the Sheng family.

Winter days are short. By the time the servant carries him back to the Sheng residence on Bubbling Well Road, dusk has already swallowed the small building whole.

The electric doorbell rings outside. Father Sheng leans forward on the sofa, flicking cigarette ash, while Madam Sheng sits quietly in a rattan chair, her brows slightly raised. Upstairs, the children pull back the curtains to peek outside, watching as the servant carries an unfamiliar infant through the cold winter night and into the house.

—September 14, 1987, 06:24—Zong Ying is born at Huashan Hospital on Middle Urumqi Road in Shanghai.

Morning light pierces through the glass, illuminating the corridor. Ms. Fang, who hasn’t slept all night, rises from the bench upon hearing the nurse announce Yan Man’s delivery and calls Zong Qinglin to inform him.

———∞———

—December 13, 1912, Hongkou, Shanghai—Sheng Qingrang’s uncle’s home.

This year, Puyi abdicates, Sun Yat-sen resigns, and Sheng Qingrang has already lived with his uncle for five years.

He is seven. For as long as he can remember, the house has been filled with swirling smoke and the ceaseless clatter of mahjong tiles. No one cares if he eats after school, and with not a penny in his pocket, he has no choice but to sneak into the kitchen to eat the leftovers from lunch.

Standing on a stool, he carefully retrieves a porcelain bowl from the cupboard—only for the stench of smoke and perfume to suddenly close in. A slap strikes him, his head slamming against the cupboard door before his foot slips, sending him tumbling off the stool and crashing to the ground.

The porcelain bowl shatters into pieces, its rice scattered across the cold tile floor.

His aunt-in-law berates him furiously: "You little thief! Who said you could eat this?!" She then drags him up and beats him again.

Five years of fearful living have sharpened his ability to read moods. Just by observing his aunt-in-law’s expression, he can tell whether she won or lost at mahjong today—and whether he’ll be beaten for it. It has also made him sensitive and withdrawn, too afraid to talk back and too weak to fight back. Struggling is futile.

When it becomes unbearable, he sometimes runs outside in tears, standing on the desolate, empty street as the cold wind howls around him, lost and with nowhere to go.

—December 13, 1990, Apartment 699, Shanghai—

This year, East and West Germany reunite, the 11th Asian Games commence, and construction begins on Shanghai Metro Line 1. Three-year-old Zong Ying hasn’t started kindergarten yet.

At home, the tape recorder plays: "Love’s fate drifts near and far, destined to intertwine a lifetime..." Zong Ying squats nearby, dismantling five entire cassette tapes before being caught red-handed by Ms. Fang.

Ms. Fang says, "Your mother is going to scold you for this."

Terrified, she hurriedly stuffs the tapes back into their boxes. Yan Man emerges from the study holding a stack of papers and asks, "Who drew this turtle on here?"

Zong Ying points at the cat sprawled on the carpet, busy with watercolor markers. Yan Man frowns, and she quickly adds, "It wasn’t him!"

Yan Man is torn between laughter and exasperation. She reprints the papers and teaches Zong Ying not to lie or cause unnecessary trouble for others. Zong Ying nods, only half-understanding, and spends a long time carefully rewinding all the unraveled tape back into the cassettes.

———∞———

—September 14, 1917, Shanghai—

This year, Zhang Xun’s restoration attempt fails, World War I rages on, the Shanghai Special Municipality is established, the Great World entertainment center opens, and the Sincere Department Store begins operations. Sheng Qingrang is in middle school.

Malnourished, he faints during P.E. class.—September 14, 1995, Shanghai

This year, the WTO was established, China implemented the two-day weekend system, Windows 95 was released, and Zong Ying was in elementary school.

On her birthday, she lost Yan Man forever.

———∞———

—August 20, 1919, Shanghai

This year, World War I ended, the Paris Peace Conference was held, and Sheng Qingrang was preparing for the law school entrance exam at Soochow University.

At fourteen, the young man had already learned to tend to his wounds without a sound. Beyond endurance and patience, he had also learned to gather strength.

The summer breeze flipped the pages of the book on his desk. Outside the window, a chestnut sparrow perched on the crabapple tree. It lingered for a while before finally spreading its wings and flying out of the small courtyard.

—August 20, 1997, Shanghai

This year, Hong Kong returned to China, and Zong Ying applied to skip a grade.

———∞———

—December 24, 1923, Paris

The French were preparing lavish feasts for Christmas Eve, while Sheng Qingrang was evicted by his landlord for failing to pay rent.

Carrying his luggage out of a room barely 10 square meters, he was greeted by the cold night wind and the empty streets of Paris.

—December 24, 2001, Shanghai

On Christmas Eve, classmates returned home one after another, and the entire city of Shanghai was filled with an intoxicating atmosphere.

Zong Ying, who lived on campus, made a bowl of instant noodles in her dorm, turned on the desk lamp, and opened a workbook.

———∞———

—September 8, 1925, Paris

Sheng Qingrang returned to his lodgings after work and spent the night drafting his thesis, the years quietly slipping by.

—September 8, 2003, Shanghai

Zong Ying completed her enrollment procedures and officially began her studies at medical school.

———∞———

—September 21, 1930, Shanghai

Sheng Qingrang obtained his membership certificate from the Shanghai Lawyers Association.

—September 21, 2008, Shanghai

Zong Ying took the comprehensive written examination for the 2008 National Medical Licensing Examination.

———∞———

—October 7, 1932, Shanghai

Sheng Qingrang defended workers who had been denied their wages. After a month-long battle, he finally won the case on this day.

—October 7, 2010, Shanghai

Zong Ying participated in her first neurosurgery operation, which was completed successfully.

———∞———

—July 11, 1937, 21:20, Apartment 699, Shanghai

Sheng Qingrang returned home after an academic gathering, turned on the hallway light, changed his shoes, boiled water, took a shower, and sat on the sofa lost in thought.

At exactly ten o'clock, the hallway light suddenly went out.

—July 11, 2015, 21:20, Apartment 699, Shanghai

Zong Ying returned home after finishing a field investigation, switched on the hallway light, changed her shoes, boiled water, took a shower, and sat on the sofa lost in thought.

At exactly ten o'clock, the hallway light flickered, and her phone vibrated—she received an emergency call and left immediately.

———∞———

—March 11, 2016, 17:30, A Bookstore on Hunan Road, Xuhui District, Shanghai

After spending nearly the entire day at the Shanghai Library, Sheng Qingrang stepped out of the main gate. Not far along the way, he spotted a black iron gate. Turning inside led him to a garden bookstore.

These past few days, southern China had experienced a sharp drop in temperature. Despite the lingering chill of early spring, flowers had begun to bloom.

From the morning of October 28, 2015, to now, 135 days had passed. Many new things had happened during this time, but the most significant difference was that he could finally walk under broad daylight and observe this unfamiliar era.

Everything was novel, but the procedures for living here as an ordinary person were complicated.However, with the implementation of the new household registration policy, resolving identity issues wasn’t entirely impossible.

The bookstore was filled with the scent of incense, accompanied by soothing background music. People either read quietly or sat sipping coffee—a tranquility unique to peaceful times.

He spotted a book with a brown cover on the new arrivals shelf, its content about veterans of the War of Resistance. Flipping open the title page, he skimmed the table of contents, and a familiar name instantly stood out among the dozen or so listed.

Quickly turning to page 157, he found the following printed in centered, size-four SimSun font at the top:

Interviewee: Sheng Qinghe.

Sheng Qingrang read word by word, as though listening to him recount the battles he had fought face-to-face.

When the interviewer eventually asked about his family’s past, he answered unhurriedly.

As he spoke the lines, "I also had a third elder brother. During the Battle of Shanghai, he was busy relocating factories inland and thus died in the wastelands of Shanghai. At the time, I was fighting on the front lines and doubted the usefulness of his efforts. But later, I realized that preserving resources in the rear to support the front was a task someone had to undertake. Had he lived to this day, he would have been 96 years old," Sheng Qingrang unconsciously tightened his grip on the book.

After 10 p.m. on October 27, 1937, he had already "died" in that era and would never see the sunrise of October 28, 1937, again.

Instead, he witnessed the dawn of October 28, 2015, and embraced a brand-new day in this era.

The memory of that night in Zhabei, engulfed in flames, still sent a chill down his spine. If Zong Ying hadn’t been by his side, if he hadn’t been determined to send her back to her own time, he might not have lasted until 10 p.m. and would have perished in the sea of fire in Zhabei—

It might have seemed like he was the one who brought Zong Ying back to 2015, but in truth, it was she who had brought him here.

Sheng Qingrang continued flipping through the book and came across several old photographs.

There were childhood portraits, youthful military ID photos, group shots with comrades-in-arms, and farewell mementos of the scattered Sheng family… Finally, the last photo was a color print—a large family portrait. Seated at the front were Sheng Qinghe and his wife, surrounded by children and grandchildren.

The book was a revised reprint, and the interview had taken place in 2001. By then, Sheng Qinghe was already 95 years old. In the photo, his hair was silver, and his deeply wrinkled face bore the joys and sorrows accumulated over a lifetime.

Sheng Qingrang closed the book and returned it to its place.

His phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw a message from Zong Ying saying she was off work and asking where he was.

Sheng Qingrang sent her his location.

Twenty minutes later, Zong Ying arrived.

Sheng Qingrang stood before a stack of books, flipping through a thick hardcover foreign title.

The black cover bore gold-embossed letters: "The Book of Answers."

Zong Ying silently walked up to him, casually picked up a copy, and glanced at the instruction sheet placed atop the stack—

"Close the book and hold it in your hands. Close your eyes and think of a yes-or-no question. Place the book between its front and back covers, then lightly run your fingers along the edges of the pages. When the moment feels right, open the book—the page you land on will hold your answer."

Setting the book down, she suddenly turned to Sheng Qingrang, who was absorbed in flipping through his copy, and asked, "What question are you thinking about?"

Only then did he notice her presence. After a brief pause, he replied, "I already sent it to you a few minutes ago." Zong Ying recalled that her phone had indeed vibrated when she parked, but she hadn’t checked it immediately.

Just as she was about to reach for her phone, Sheng Qingrang handed her the answer book in his hand: “Don’t you want to flip through it?”

Zong Ying lifted her gaze to meet his, then closed her eyes again, her thumb brushing the edge of the pages. After a few minutes, she suddenly opened it.

The entire page bore only a single word printed in ornate script: “yes.”

He smiled and lowered his eyes. “Check your phone.”

Zong Ying tapped on the notification—the latest message read: “Will you marry me?”

Holding up the book, he asked, “Want to flip again?”

Zong Ying shook her head with a smile—

Will you marry me?—

yes.

[The End]