Sima Qiuyun woke up on a day in early February 2020. The fact that this woman, who had been in a vegetative state for over a year, had woken up on her own was the first miracle the City A Hospital had seen since its founding. Qiuyun’s case didn't just cause a stir within the hospital; it also caught the attention of the media. News outlets dubbed the event "The Call of Love Brings a Vegetative Patient Back to Life," because during the year she was comatose, she had no relatives to care for her. Only a man named Lin Shaohua had stayed by her side, never giving up. Everyone said that Qiuyun must have heard Lin Shaohua’s calls in the depths of her subconscious and decided to wake up.
During that year, Sima Qiuyun’s family had undergone earth-shattering changes. Chen Liping and Sima Feng had divorced; she had moved on to a new family and, just a few months before Qiuyun woke up, had given birth to a healthy baby boy. Qiuyun’s grandfather, Sima Teng, had suffered a fatal heart attack in his nursing home; it was Lin Shaohua who had helped arrange the funeral. Sima Feng, hearing of the family’s upheavals while in prison, had his application for compassionate leave rejected. The successive blows had made him volatile, leading to conflicts with fellow inmates, and the judge was now considering revoking his sentence reduction. The perpetrator of the accident, Wu Liu, was—depending on how one looked at it—either lucky or unlucky to be diagnosed with a mental illness, exempting him from criminal punishment. Qiuyun was also caught in a similar ambiguity of fortune; the perpetrator’s family was sincere and cooperative, willing to pay a large sum in financial compensation.
However, the compensation was strictly monetary. The family had not visited the hospital even once.
On the other hand, that innocent art academy teacher—Lin Shaohua remembered his surname was Liang—this Teacher Liang came to the hospital every month to visit, even though he was also a victim of the incident. But perhaps it was only a teacher-student relationship from after graduation; in recent months, Lin Shaohua had not seen him at the hospital.
Of course, these were all pieces of news Qiuyun learned gradually in the month after she woke up. When she heard these things, her face remained largely expressionless. Only when she heard that Teacher Liang had once come to see her did her eyes shift slightly. But she said nothing, remaining as calm as a still pond, sitting silently by the hospital window for an entire day.
Because she had been asleep for a year, Qiuyun’s body was extremely weak. Although Lin Shaohua had hired a caregiver to wipe her down and move her limbs while she was comatose, her muscles had still atrophied to varying degrees. Qiuyun needed extensive rehabilitation before she could stand again.
Sitting in her wheelchair every day, she felt the world was profoundly strange.
After work, Lin Shaohua would come to push her through the hospital gardens. The caregiver would also talk to her, telling her about the changes happening every second in this information-driven society. But her reactions were somewhat wooden, and she rarely spoke. There was a television in the ward, and occasionally everyone would roar with laughter at a variety show, but Qiuyun showed no reaction, as if her soul simply wasn't there. The doctors said this was a normal reaction; even if a vegetative patient wakes up, it is difficult for the brain to return to its previous normal level immediately, or it might take much longer than the physical recovery.
Two months after waking, Qiuyun could basically stand up from her wheelchair and walk with the help of crutches. Two weeks later, the doctor said she could go home for recovery and return for regular check-ups. Thus, Lin Shaohua handled her discharge paperwork. After helping her into the passenger seat, Lin Shaohua sat in the driver's seat and started the car. Just as he was about to pull away, Qiuyun suddenly turned her head and asked him, "Where are we going?"
Qiuyun had spoken very little since waking up, regardless of who she was talking to. So when she opened her mouth, Lin Shaohua was stunned for a moment. Realizing she was asking him, he smiled and said, "We’re going home."
Qiuyun lowered her lashes. Two seconds later, she looked up and asked a seemingly nonsensical question: "Why?"
Lin Shaohua was stunned again. He wanted to say the doctor said you’ve recovered well and can go home, but when he met Qiuyun’s eyes, he realized her "why" wasn't directed at that question.
So he smiled again and said, "There is no why."
Qiuyun looked at him quietly for a few seconds before finally turning her head back to look forward.
"Thank you," she said. Ahead was a straight highway; the traffic light five hundred meters away had just turned green. She took a deep breath and said, "Let's go to your place."
Lin Shaohua was both surprised and overjoyed by this decision. He had originally planned to take Qiuyun back to her own home; he had even set the delivery address for her rehabilitation supplies to her house. But for Qiuyun to take the initiative to go to his place—the implication was self-evident. The car radio appropriately began playing Jay Chou’s "Love Confession Balloon," and he couldn't help but hum along: "Dear, don't be headstrong, your eyes are saying I love you..."
Lin Shaohua had his own apartment in City A. Upon arriving home, he tidied up the guest room and then busied himself in the kitchen with dinner. Halfway through, he poked his head out of the kitchen and saw Qiuyun staring blankly at the television, her face devoid of expression. He went to the study, rummaged through a drawer for a retired smartphone, sat down beside Qiuyun, and handed it to her. "If you don't want to watch TV, why not play with a phone?"
Qiuyun took it.
He patted her head. "Be good, dinner will be ready soon."
Qiuyun stared at the phone for a long time without moving. She hadn't touched this kind of high technology for over a year. She had grown accustomed to a life without phones, a life where one relied on promises to set times and letters for communication. Even Liang He—the name made her heart twitch—yes, back then Liang He had a pager and had even written the number down for her, but she had never used it once. Back then, they saw each other almost every day; what need was there for such things?
Back then, who could have imagined that the future would hold such artificially intelligent phones?
It turned out that thirty years was enough time for technology to develop with such staggering speed. But why should that be surprising? It was thirty years, after all—10,950 days, 262,800 hours, 15,768,000 minutes. It was longer than the sum of her current life. It wasn't strange for the world to be turned upside down; what else was there to be shocked about?
The iPhone 5S powered on and automatically connected to the Wi-Fi. Advertisements and news notifications jumped out one after another: "Congratulations! Celebrity XX successfully proposes to XXX," "XX flirts with XXX, using a lucky draw as an excuse?" "XX's husband seen at a nightclub with a famous model, marriage in trouble..."
Qiuyun clumsily closed the ads. Because of her long period of inactivity, her fingers trembled uncontrollably when performing fine tasks. The old phone had clearly been cleared by Lin Shaohua; there were only a few common apps on the home screen. She looked at it for another minute or two before noticing a green icon with the word "WeChat" underneath.
She hesitated for a long time before tremulously tapping the icon.
She remembered both the username and password. After logging in, a string of "999+" message notifications nearly caused the old phone to crash.
She didn't want to read a single one. She went straight to her contacts and looked for "L"—nothing. She thought for a moment, realizing she might not have changed the alias. She scrolled to the letter "D," and sure enough, the first entry was "Blade and Wood."
A year had passed, and his profile picture hadn't changed.
Or rather, his profile picture had never changed. When she first added him on WeChat, Qiuyun had only noticed that his picture was a square seal. Only now did she realize it was an actual stamp.
It was carved in Small Seal script. One had to look closely to recognize the four characters: "Seal of Blade and Wood."
Her vision blurred slightly. She began to regret logging into WeChat, yet she couldn't stop herself from clicking on his Moments. The latest update was from several months ago. He had written: "He Ying, anniversary of death."
He Ying.
He Ying!
Her heart stopped beating for an instant.
The past suddenly surged up like a colossal wave. She even found it difficult to breathe. She stared fixedly at those two words, like a fish washed up on the sand by a giant wave, on the verge of death.
"Dinner's ready," Lin Shaohua’s cheerful voice drifted from the kitchen. He carried a plate in each hand with another balanced in between, whistling "Love Confession Balloon." He set the table, came over to help Qiuyun up, and asked solicitously, "Are you hungry? Try my cooking. The doctor said to eat light, easily digestible food, so I ground up some meat for meatball soup and stir-fried two vegetable dishes. See if they suit your taste."
Three dishes and a soup, perfect in color, aroma, and taste. Qiuyun looked at him woodenly and very, very slowly forced a smile.
***
Two weeks later, on the weekend, Lin Shaohua took Qiuyun to the prison to visit Sima Feng.
The high-speed train from City A to the prison took over an hour. Lin Shaohua was worried Qiuyun’s body wouldn't hold up and insisted she use the wheelchair. In truth, compared to when she first woke up, Qiuyun’s physical strength was much better. she had put on some weight, and her hair had grown out. If she weren't in a wheelchair, others might have mistaken her for a trendy, rebellious, handsome girl with a buzz cut. Lin Shaohua protected her like a fragile porcelain doll. They could have driven, but fearing she couldn't handle a three-hour one-way trip, he bought business class tickets. They could have returned the same day, but he booked a local hotel, saying they would return the next morning.
Upon hearing this, Qiuyun had no other reaction, only quiet compliance. When someone is arranging things for you so meticulously and treating you like a treasure, what right do you have to make suggestions? Lin Shaohua touched her face, feeling very satisfied with Qiuyun’s docility.
The train started smoothly. After taking their seats, Qiuyun didn't speak much. Lin Shaohua played with his phone for a while, then got bored and locked the screen to rest.
Qiuyun looked at the open fields outside; the bare tree branches flew backward at high speed.
...
—"Do you know? Thirty years from now, trains will be very, very fast."
—"Very, very fast? How fast?"
—"Like... the speed can reach over 200 km/h, more than double what it is now."
—"How do you know?"
—"I'm guessing. Hee hee..."
...
—"What about you? Calculate it for yourself—what will you be like in thirty years?"
—"Me?..."
—"Let me calculate it for you—thirty years from now, you should be a somewhat successful painter. If you're still in City A, then maybe I'll invite you to give a lecture at A University... maybe we'll have a chance to ride those 'very, very fast' trains you mentioned... maybe we'll even have afternoon tea together..."
...
Thirty years later, Qiuyun was finally riding a high-speed train again.
But where was the person who had joked about having afternoon tea with her?
It had been thirty years.
For Qiuyun, thirty years was just the time it took to blink, but for him, it was thirty years where every single minute and second had actually existed.
How had he lived those thirty years? What had he encountered? What had he experienced?
Did he still remember her?
Did he still remember their promise?
The carriage was very quiet, so quiet that one could hear the faint snoring of a passenger.
In this quiet space, Qiuyun’s tears fell silently and were wiped away just as silently.
The visit was scheduled for one o'clock in the afternoon.
Qiuyun waited outside the transparent glass window. At 1:03, the door opened, and Sima Feng walked out.
The moment he saw Qiuyun, Sima Feng’s chin and lips began to tremble uncontrollably. He almost lunged toward the seat on the other side, his hands pressed against the glass as if he could reach through to touch Qiuyun’s face. He looked her over tremulously, meticulously, from top to bottom. Tears quickly flowed from his sunken eyes. He was shouting something, but the glass blocked his voice. Qiuyun knew he was calling her name.
Dad had grown old.
Tears welled up in Qiuyun’s eyes. She still remembered how he looked when he was young—so full of vitality, so sunny and cheerful. His strong arms had once supported Wang Chen as she practiced walking; his ruddy lips had once spoken firm vows; his thick hair had once made Qiuyun draw until she felt like vomiting blood. But now, his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands—everything was telling Sima Qiuyun that her father had grown old.
Qiuyun’s heart wrenched. She picked up the handset and gestured to Sima Feng.
"Dad..." she said.
The moment she spoke, it was like detonating two bombs made of water. Separated by a transparent wall, the two blood relatives were both overcome with sobs.
After crying for a while, they both slowly calmed down.
"Xiaoyun," Sima Feng picked up the handset, "Are you okay? How are you now?"
"Dad, I'm fine," Qiuyun said. "I've been discharged now. The doctor said all my indicators are good. I can recover at home, but it will take some time. Lin Shaohua has been taking care of me; he's very good to me."
"That's good..." Sima Feng looked at Lin Shaohua standing beside Qiuyun and cast a grateful look toward him. "Tell Shaohua thank you for me. It's Dad... who failed you." At this point, he choked up again, paused, and then managed to say, "Something so big happened to you, and I couldn't even take care of you. Just thinking about you lying in the hospital all alone made my heart ache so much... Look at you, you used to have such beautiful hair, and now it's all shaved off, growing back all short and uneven... I... it's my fault... I've failed you..."
"Dad... no... don't blame yourself..." Qiuyun wept along with him.
Sima Feng wiped his tears and controlled his emotions, directing Qiuyun’s gaze toward Lin Shaohua. "You must be good to Shaohua. While you were asleep, your grandfather... he was the one who helped handle your grandfather's funeral..."
"I know," Qiuyun nodded and urged him, "I'm doing well now, don't worry. You have to be well in there too. I'm waiting for you to come out soon. We'll have a reunion, Dad. By the time you're out, I'll be completely recovered. We'll live a good life together as a family."
Sima Feng nodded like an obedient child. He repeated Qiuyun’s words, filled with hope, "We'll live a good life together as a family."
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 刀与木 | Blade and Wood | Liang He's pseudonym/WeChat handle; refers to his art (engraving/sculpting). |
| 刀与木印 | Seal of Blade and Wood | The text on Liang He's profile picture/seal. |
| 何英 | He Ying | The name Wang Chen used in the 1988 timeline. |
| 告白气球 | Love Confession Balloon | A famous song by Jay Chou. |
| 司马腾 | Sima Teng | Qiuyun's grandfather. |
| 吴柳 | Wu Liu | The driver who caused the accident. |
| 短不喇兹 | short and uneven | A colloquial/dialect expression for something short and messy. |
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