I looked at my daughter sitting across from me, the album placed between us. I poured her a glass of warm water. She held the cup with both hands, her head bowed, not daring to meet my eyes.
She didn't grow up the way Shengsheng did; she was much simpler, and much more reckless. I had tried my best to let all the trauma end with me so it wouldn't affect her. Because of that, there were many things she never knew, but I felt it was time to tell her.
When Yueyue was very young, she had been curious about her biological father. I only told her that we were divorced and had no contact after the split. She didn't probe too deeply, as she never seemed to feel her family was incomplete—and that was all thanks to... Lin Yunsheng.
But in reality, I was a runaway.
I was born into a very poor rural family—though that kind of poverty was perfectly normal for the countryside back then. I was the eldest daughter, followed by two younger brothers and a younger sister. The identity of "Eldest Sister" naturally came with the burden of responsibility: taking care of siblings, taking care of parents. It was only right and proper; I never questioned it.
When I was in school, my grades were excellent. Of course, there wasn't much "quality" to speak of in rural education, but among the students at the time, I was the one the teachers liked most. When I took the high school entrance exam, I ranked first in the entire township, and then...
And then, there was no "then." I attended school for a total of eight years: five years of primary school and three years of middle school. I treated that first-place rank as my graduation medal. What "then" could there be? No family in the township sent their daughter to high school after she finished middle school. Education was useless; everyone understood such a simple truth.
After graduation, I went to the city to work. I stayed with a distant relative, paying no rent but occasionally helping with housework and looking after their young grandson.
I didn't particularly like that life. They didn't treat me poorly, and I wasn't exactly suffering under their roof, but I felt my nerves were always frayed. I couldn't relax even at "home," constantly forced to read their expressions and live according to their whims.
So, when I met Chen Wei, I followed him without a second thought.
Ah, I was too young then. Chen Wei was handsome. While his family wasn't powerful or wealthy, they were well-off—compared to me, the difference was like heaven and earth. Coupled with my desire to leave my relatives' house, I agreed the moment he started pursuing me.
He was the youngest son in his family, with four older sisters and one older brother. I later heard him say that one sister had been given away and another had died in an accident, so only two remained. He said this with an indifferent tone, as if telling someone else's story. It sounded unremarkable to me too, because in those days, such things were common.
Chen Wei and I were intimate before marriage. Once that was settled, I didn't need any ceremony, promise, or legal permit; I automatically "upgraded" myself from girlfriend to wife. This was why, later on, no matter how much he beat me, I never left.
Even on the day we went to register our marriage, he beat me until I was covered in blood. I still crawled up from the floor, washed my face, tidied myself up, and never once thought that the marriage shouldn't happen.
Wasn't it normal for men to hit people? Domestic violence—that’s just how men were. They had so much more to worry about than us women. We only looked after the small world of the home, but they had to go out and earn money.
I saw my father hit my mother when I was a child, and now I was experiencing Chen Wei hitting me. This was the path one had to take; everyone went through it. That was how I comforted myself.
I "successfully" married him and became pregnant soon after. By then, gender testing for fetuses was already banned, but they insisted on giving the unborn child a boy's name: Chen Jin.
Thinking back, if testing had been available then, Yueyue might have lost more than just her name; she might have lost her life.
The child was born amidst the expectations of Chen Wei’s entire family, but in just one day, everything turned into cold words and mockery.
When registering the child’s name, I asked Chen Wei, "Can we add the character 'Yue' to the end? For happiness. Besides, the previous name sounded too much like a boy." Chen Wei said he didn't care.
And he didn't. He didn't take it seriously at all; he didn't care about this daughter.
My days passed in a blur. Chen Wei had a gambling habit, and whenever things didn't go his way, he’d come home and beat me. It became my daily bread. Over the next year, I became pregnant three more times, but because of the policies, I couldn't give birth, so I went to the community clinic for abortions. By the third time, the doctor couldn't stand it anymore. Without telling me, she took the liberty of inserting an intrauterine device. I only found out after the procedure was over. I didn't understand it; I only knew I wouldn't have to suffer that particular pain again, so I confusedly said it was fine.
Life had to go on. I waited and waited, waiting for the day Chen Wei would change for the better. Those days were so hard to endure. I often heard people say things only got better when you reached your forties or fifties. Forty or fifty... would it really take that long?
I suppose it was okay. I truly intended to wait.
But Chen Wei’s violence grew more and more severe. I began to doubt if my body could actually last until my forties.
One night, Chen Wei came home reeking of alcohol again. I knew I wouldn't escape a beating, but I didn't expect that he wouldn't even spare his own daughter. Yueyue couldn't even speak yet. In his drunken madness, he grabbed the quilt wrapped around the child and slammed it onto the floor.
"Chen Wei! What's wrong with you!" I scrambled over to shield my daughter in my arms. She let out a piercing, unstoppable wail. I could only pray that the impact had only caused pain and hadn't broken anything.
"What's wrong with me? It's because you gave birth to this dead weight that my friends laugh at me! Even Chen Jun can look down on me!" he started roaring at me. The Chen Jun he mentioned was his older brother. Chen Wei had bullied him since they were kids, relying on being the youngest and the family's favorite. Who would have thought the first time he'd lose in his life was because Chen Jun had a son. How ridiculous.
I was beaten beyond recognition, trying to dodge while protecting Chen Jinyue in my arms. For the first time, the thought occurred to me: life cannot go on like this. It was a bit late, I knew. I hated myself for being so weak.
But where could I go? I knew my own family wouldn't welcome me back, and I had neither a job nor money. Where could I run?
I thought about it for a long, long time. During that period, Chen Wei tried to lay hands on Yueyue twice more. I barely managed to protect her with my own body, knowing in my heart that if I didn't run, something would eventually happen to her.
So, I planned for a few days. On a day when he went out to drink, I stole all the money I could find, packed a few things in a burlap sack, and took Chen Jinyue to the train station.
I saw a train departing for Haicheng. I hurriedly bought a ticket, squeezed on, and never looked back.
It was such a coincidence. Yueyue was just ten months old then. On that train, she stammered out her first indistinct syllables. I heard her call me "Mama" in a fuzzy voice. My tears fell instantly. I swore in my heart that I would let her grow up well in this life. She would never have to repeat what I had experienced. I wanted her to truly be like her name—happy and joyful.
After arriving in Haicheng, I hid and dodged, afraid of being found—though perhaps I was overthinking it. Out of everything they lost, they probably cared most about the money I took.
Staying in guesthouses while caring for Chen Jinyue was nearly impossible. I don't even know how I survived.
Later, I found a job at a construction site. They didn't want me at first; I had a baby with me, I couldn't do heavy labor, and I wasn't as strong as a man. It was only because someone spoke up for me and pointed me toward a better path that they reluctantly agreed. That person was Lin Yunsheng’s father, Lin Chengjian.
Lin Chengjian was a very ordinary, good man. He had no malice, though he was sometimes a bit cowardly—like I used to be. After getting to know him, I learned he had a daughter over seven years old living on the outskirts of Haicheng. Lin Chengjian seemed to want to build a life with me. Having just escaped, I was unwilling to enter any new marital relationship, until one day he asked me: had I thought about how Yueyue would go to school without household registration?
I thought he was using that to pressure me, but to my surprise, he wanted an exchange. He said he had connections to help me sort out the registration; in return, he wanted me to go home with him to look after his daughter and mother.
I didn't agree at the time. I thought there were still a few years before Yueyue was old enough for school; maybe some other opportunity would arise?
Until one night, Chen Jinyue suddenly developed a high fever. I took her to the hospital, and Lin Chengjian accompanied me. I discovered that without identification, even registering for an appointment was full of obstacles. A child's fever could be minor or fatal; it couldn't be delayed for a second. It was he who helped me again that day to get things settled. He said he didn't have much talent, but having lived in Haicheng for decades, he had a few "unconventional" ways of getting things done.
After that night, I began to consider his proposal.
Not long after, I was brought home by Lin Chengjian.
When I first met Lin Yunsheng, my first impression was how precocious she was. She watched people's expressions before speaking or acting. Before calling out to me, she looked first at her father, then at her grandmother, and then cautiously called me "Auntie Chen."
The reason I could tell she was observing was because I had once been the same. But back then, I was living in a relative's house and had no choice; what about her? She was in her own home—why was she like that? She was only seven years old.
I thought she was clever, but I didn't dare trust her.
However, Yueyue was incredibly clingy toward her, constantly wanting to be held in her arms to be happy. She never refused, letting Chen Jinyue have her way in everything. Still, I wasn't at ease. I feared this was just her way of pleasing adults, so I always kept an extra eye on them.
Shortly after, I received my household registration booklet. I was the head of the household, and the marital status column said "Divorced." The second page was Chen Jinyue, with the relationship to the head of household listed as "Daughter." My heart finally settled a bit. Lin Chengjian had asked if I wanted to change my daughter's surname. I thought about it and said no. But from that day on, her surname belonged to Chen Fang’s "Chen," no longer Chen Wei’s "Chen."
Later, I left the construction site and stayed at Lin Chengjian’s home, taking care of his family and playing a role similar to a wife. He asked me twice if I was willing to marry him, or perhaps have another child, but I refused both times, saying it was still too early.
In my time with Shengsheng, I gradually caught glimpses of her inner world. No matter how mature she was, she was still a child; some things simply couldn't be hidden.
I noticed her extreme sense of propriety—not in the sense of not letting others offend her, but in her unwillingness to offend others or make them unhappy. Thus, whenever I expressed concern, she would always decline. I’d ask if the food I cooked was good, and she’d always say it was delicious. I’d ask what she wanted to eat today, and she’d look at the vegetables we already had and speak according to what was available.
I asked her if she was cold in the winter and if she wanted me to knit her another sweater. She hesitated for a moment before saying no, thank you, Auntie Chen. But I knitted her a dark blue sweater anyway. I wondered if, during that moment of hesitation, she had really wanted to say "yes." It was just that, in the end, she talked herself into refusing.
As Chen Jinyue grew day by day, she clung to Shengsheng almost more than she did to me. She spent all day shouting "Shengsheng-jiejie, Shengsheng-jiejie," following at her heels. Fearing she couldn't keep up, Lin Yunsheng would stand still and wait for her, or sometimes just sit down on the floor to play with her. I’d say the floor was cold and tell her to sit on a chair, but she’d say it was fine, that it was easier to watch Yueyue this way.
My trust in her was built up over years. Then one day, she almost talked back to her grandmother for my sake, and I knew she truly liked me. She had always been cautious and submissive just to make her life a bit smoother, yet for me, her young self developed the desire to protect me. I felt as though I truly had another daughter. As for the cold words from Lin Chengjian’s mother, they actually meant nothing to me.
These delicate balances were eventually shattered by Lin Chengjian’s accident. When I heard the news, I was in a daze. Then Shengsheng rushed back from school, her tears falling uncontrollably. Yueyue had been standing by my feet, but when she saw Lin Yunsheng crying, she immediately ran to her side, grabbed her pant leg, and called her name. I think she must have been terrified by her sister's tears.
After I calmed down, I knew I had reached another crossroads in my life. How many choices had I made by then? Getting married, running away, moving into Lin Chengjian’s house... what was the next step? I couldn't sleep all night. I knew I would definitely leave, but I felt a pang of compassion. Without Lin Chengjian, if I left too, what would happen to Lin Yunsheng?
Lin Chengjian’s mother spent several days straight cursing Shengsheng, ignoring the facts and just venting her rage. I felt it was emotional abuse. I couldn't stand it and spoke up for Shengsheng for the first time. In response, she told me to take Lin Yunsheng away.
I fell silent.
And in my silence, Lin Yunsheng turned and went back to her room. Chen Jinyue tried to grab her hand, but she hesitated for a moment and finally pulled away. She closed the door amidst Chen Jinyue’s crying.
Once Lin Chengjian was buried, I felt I had fulfilled my duty and should leave. That day, I coaxed Chen Jinyue to sleep first. Before sleeping, she asked me, "Where's Shengsheng-jiejie?" I said she was at home, just go to sleep, you'll see her when you wake up, be good.
I didn't have the heart to tell her she might never see Shengsheng-jiejie again... If I had any strength left, I would have taken her without hesitation, but my own future was uncertain, and I had to live with a three-year-old Chen Jinyue. How could I manage?
I knocked on her door, deciding to tell her the news of my departure. When she opened the door, her face was still stained with tears. Then she crouched in the corner and asked me, "Where's Yueyue?" I said she was sleeping. She stopped talking.
I walked over and, mimicking the way she usually played with Yueyue, sat on the floor in front of her. She was right—it was easier to look into each other's eyes this way. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. I wanted to reach out and wipe away her tears, but she refused me. She seemed to hope I would just give her the answer directly so she could have some closure.
I saw the photo in her hand; it was her mother. She had probably never met her. At that moment, I felt a profound sorrow. She likely had no one left to tell this grief to. What would she say to her mother while holding that photo? Would she ask why she gave birth to her only to leave her? Would she ask why her life was like this—why, even though she tried her absolute best, there was still no one to love her?
My heart ached at the thought.
I thought of myself at ten years old. My youngest sister had just been born, and I was still in school. I was born into unfairness but was unaware of it, treating it as the "blessing of the ignorant." But what about Shengsheng? I met her when she was seven, and she was already restrained and introverted. Over the past two years, you could feel her satisfaction from just a bit of ordinary care. She was so sensible; she really shouldn't end up washing her face with tears, with nothing left but a photo of a mother she’d never met to comfort herself.
I could no longer bring myself to say I was leaving. I put the photo back in her hand. This was the second time in my life I had been so impulsive.
The last time was when I decided to go with Chen Wei. I had lost everything then, nearly ruining my life and Chen Jinyue’s. This time, I decided to let Lin Yunsheng come with me. I said Yueyue needed a sister... Under her startled gaze, I became certain. My life was already like this; how much worse could it get? But if I took her with me, she would surely be much better off. Once again, I placed a bet against fate.
Fortunately, this time I was the one favored by luck.
When I say favored, I don't mean financially. From a pragmatic standpoint, Lin Yunsheng took excellent care of Yueyue for me. she helped with everything in the house and never let me worry. Although I always told her to focus on her studies, she always said she didn't find taking care of her sister tiring.
And from the heart, she gave me hope for life, making me feel that as long as we continued like this, everything would get better. She let Yueyue grow up in love, and I gave everything I had to treat Lin Yunsheng as my own.
I still remember the first time she called me "Mom." She might have been tired that day. When I got home, she had fallen asleep leaning on the folding dining table, not even having time to wash the bowls. I woke her up to tell her to go to bed. She got up groggily, rubbed her eyes, and said, "Mom, you're back."
Both she and I froze. She woke up instantly after saying it, her face turning red. As for me, I couldn't suppress the smile at the corners of my mouth. I said, "Yes, I'm back."
I was happy from the bottom of my heart. No matter how poor or difficult the days were, nothing compared to having hope. I moved forward holding onto the belief that "everything will keep getting better." With two daughters, I naturally gave up the idea of remarrying—and I didn't need to anyway. I went back to work at construction sites, and occasionally playing mahjong even became one of my sources of income.
I watched the two sisters grow up, their bond closer than biological siblings. Even when Chen Jinyue was being a naughty rebel, Lin Yunsheng still loved and cared for her wholeheartedly. She was the same toward me. I didn't know where one could find such a good daughter; I felt lucky for the decision I made in that moment of impulse.
I hoped to see them living harmoniously like this until I reached retirement age. Whether they chose to marry or stay single in the future was fine by me. I never forgot my hope for that "Yue" character; their happiness and joy were my greatest pursuits.
Why did all of this change? To this day, I avoid thinking back to that night—the night I came home to see the front door ajar, with gifts and flowers on the shoe rack.
Sounds came from the bedroom that I couldn't believe. No matter how I tried to make it sound reasonable, I couldn't convince myself.
At this moment, the memory of that night returned to my mind: the tense breathing in the dark, the way Shengsheng and I stared at each other. I didn't say a single word to her.
Chen Jinyue’s eighteenth birthday... I wanted to ask my two daughters: how did all of this begin?
Now, seven years have passed, and I can finally avoid it no longer.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 陈芳 | Chen Fang | The mother/narrator. |
| 陈伟 | Chen Wei | Jinyue's biological father. |
| 林成建 | Lin Chengjian | Yunsheng's father. |
| 陈谨 | Chen Jin | The masculine name originally intended for Jinyue. |
| 悦 | Yue | Joy/Happiness; the character Chen Fang added to Jinyue's name. |
| 南城纪念册 | Nancheng Souvenir Album | The physical item that triggers the confrontation. |
| 户口本 | Household registration booklet | Hukou; essential for school and legal identity in China. |
