In the cold winter afternoon, faint sunlight pierced through the thin clouds, blanketing the world below, yet it did nothing to dispel the bone-chilling cold and desolation gripping Lou Yixuan’s heart.
Just one window away in the living room, her godparents clinked glasses with her father, reminiscing about bygone years. Her good sister and beloved wife chatted joyfully via video call with their cherished daughter, filling the room with laughter and festive cheer.
Such a warm, lively scene, brimming with New Year’s spirit—if only her mother were there, it would be truly complete, truly perfect.
They could have been whole. They could have been happy. It was her sins that had shattered it all.
Lou Yixuan hugged herself tightly, trying to trap a shred of warmth against the chill, but her thin crewneck sweater offered no defense against winter’s bite.
She let her arms drop in vain, letting the cold wind lash her cheeks unchecked.
The wind cut like knives, slicing her tender skin and numbing her shattered heart once more.
Years of unrequited love’s torment, the growing rift between her parents’ aching sorrow—it all surged toward her like frost-forged blades from every direction, hemming her in without mercy, pressing down, piercing deep…
Surrounded on all sides, she felt the terror of utter isolation, a single tree unable to prop up the sky.
As if the whole world had already cast me out, rejected me entirely.
The most tragic part? No one could save her from this inferno.
Not the gods, not friends, not family, and certainly not the lover who no longer wanted her.
Only she could save herself.
Down in the courtyard below, bare branches shivered in the wind, withered leaves drifting down like one doomed life after another succumbing to fate.
Beginnings and endings.
The dawn of the next cycle of reincarnation.
She yearned for another turn at the wheel this time—ideally with a bowl of Meng Po Soup.
Banged my head against the same south wall over and over, and now I finally get why they set out Meng Po Soup before the Naihe Bridge. Forgetting the past really is for the best.
Otherwise…
Lu Lingxuan entered the bedroom, slipped on her outer coat, then grabbed Lou Yixuan’s thick jacket from the entryway and headed to the balcony.
“You frail little thing, careful the wind doesn’t carry you off.”
“Funny weather—sunny but whipping up a gale.”
No sooner had she draped the coat over her than Lou Yixuan whipped around and pulled her into a tight embrace.
“Lingxuan,” came the choked sob, “I miss her.”
Lu Lingxuan’s first thought was that “her” meant Lin Huayan.
But the next instant, Lou Yixuan sobbed, “Mom’s never spent a New Year alone in Australia. She’s never spent any New Year alone. It’s all my fault—I’m unfilial, I’m no good. I destroyed our family’s harmony, everyone’s reunion.”
The tears she hadn’t shed that night after tidying the house and hearing her father’s “You’ve worked hard,” nor at the airport seeing him drag his suitcase alone from arrivals—they finally burst forth today.
The more heartbroken she felt, the more she missed her mother, and the more she understood Lin Huayan.
She couldn’t let Lin Huayan end up like this—surrounded by a joyful, loving family, yet feeling not a drop of warmth or happiness.
They’re all laughing, all making merry, but I can’t join in, can’t crack a smile, can’t fit into their joy.
The heartier their laughter, the fiercer the blizzard in my soul.
So fierce.
Fierce enough to sweep me away, lost in an endless snowstorm.
No path forward, nowhere to go.
No one… to wait for.
Against the endless gale of wind, frost, and blades, how small she was. What could she fight it with?
Maybe I shouldn’t have come back to the country six months ago.
Then her mother wouldn’t have cut ties with her, Lin Huayan wouldn’t be agonizing over her again, torn in two.
All because of her selfish whims—her mother fell ill with no one to care for her, Grandma never saw her cherished daughter-in-law, and Lin Huayan suffered gossip from busybodies.
——Lou Lou, I’ve been thinking, and I really should tell you. After the holiday started, more than one or two people from our grade group came probing about you and Teacher Lin’s real relationship. Asking if you two are dating.
——Whether yes or no, I couldn’t say. I just asked where they heard the gossip. They didn’t name names, just said they saw you and Teacher Lin acting all intimate those two days at the Hot Spring Resort.
——I could guess without asking—must be that lowlife Zhang Jue spreading rumors, steering them that way. If he hadn’t made shit up, why would they fixate on you two, completely ignoring me and Teacher He?
——Teacher Lin cut your lamb chops for you; I cut for Teacher He. I even grilled melon and mushrooms for you—why don’t they say I’m the one cozying up to you?
——You don’t come to school much, so the whispers might not reach you quick, won’t hit you hard. But Teacher Lin? She’s bound to get talked about behind her back. Of course, Teacher Lin’s no stranger to wild rumors—she’s weathered worse.
——But Lou Lou, same as before: I’m telling you as a friend, so you can be prepared.
Just days into the holiday, Du Heming had called her.
That same day, she’d hidden her Moments posts—especially the few tied to Lin Huayan.
If only I’d won Lin Huayan’s heart. Then I’d have the standing, the right to step up and shoulder it all. But she had nothing.
Lu Lingxuan stroked her back. “Baby, don’t overthink it. How could this all be your fault?”
“Don’t talk. Just let me hold you a bit. Just a bit.”
Lou Yixuan didn’t dare wail outright. She stifled her sobs, wiping her tears on Lu Lingxuan’s red wool coat to destroy the evidence.
After a good, cathartic cry, her body and soul eased, though her eyes swelled like peaches.
Lou Weizhao’s original flight back to Australia was on the fourth day of the New Year; he’d planned to fly to Jingping that afternoon of the third, then connect overnight.
But that second night of the New Year, he changed his ticket.
…
Lin Huayan and her parents drove back to their old home in Pingxin Town on the afternoon of the second day of the New Year.
As usual, Zhou Chunping stayed with Lin Jiazhong at his second brother’s house, which had more room, while Lin Huayan checked into a guesthouse in town alone.
That evening, the three Lin brothers’ families gathered for their New Year’s feast. They rotated hosting duties yearly; this time it fell to third brother Lin Jiazhong.
Their family was just the three of them.
Eldest brother’s had nine; second brother’s also nine.
Daughters-in-law and sons-in-law counted as family, of course—but what started as twenty-one for two tables ballooned, thanks to eldest and second brothers roping in relatives, into three tables of twenty-eight.
Liu Yunfen called it “good things come in pairs.”
Pingxin Town’s prices being what they were, what did one extra table cost them?
Lin Huayan didn’t care.
Truth be told, none of their trio cared enough to argue and sour the mood.
Not even when Lin Cuidan brazenly ordered two extra bottles of Maotai right in front of her and walked off with them—Lin Huayan didn’t waste a word.
The town to village was over four kilometers: a forty-to-fifty-minute walk, fifteen minutes on an e-bike, seven or eight by car.
Every Spring Festival back home, they drove Lin Jiazhong’s car.
Lately, with Lin Jiazhong aging, Lin Huayan had taken the wheel.
After the feast, eldest brother’s family headed to their town house.
Second brother’s elders squeezed into Lin Huayan’s car with their granddaughter; Lin Cuidan’s crew of six arrived, but her husband’s car fit only five.
Father-in-law, mother-in-law, son, son’s girlfriend.
Packed tight.
Everyone mattered more than Lin Cuidan; she rode her e-bike back alone.
If she didn’t yield everywhere, earning her rep as the hardworking, enduring good wife and daughter-in-law inside and out, her husband’s family would’ve kicked her to the curb long ago.
Her husband had wanted divorce; son and in-laws talked him out of it.
Lin Chuanyao rode his motorcycle, sandwiching his wife and mother-in-law around their three-month-old son.
At the front yard, Lin Huayan figured she’d wait for them to unload, then drive straight back to town and pick them up come morning.
But Liu Yunfen blocked the car, cradling Qingqing. “It’s early still—come in and sit.”
Qingqing chimed in: “Second Aunt, I have a New Year’s gift for you. Come to my room with me to get it?”
The family’s prepared again—using the kid to pry open a crack.
Lin Huayan didn’t want her parents shielding her from this crap. She got out.
“What gift from Qingqing?”
Liu Yunfen set her granddaughter down. “Take Second Aunt to get your gift. Remember, Qingqing—Second Aunt’s always been the best to you. Every year, her red envelope’s the biggest you get.”
“Mm, Second Aunt’s the best to me.”
Qingqing pulled Lin Huayan inside and up to the second floor.
She’d slept alone since last year: “Grandma’s here helping Mom with baby bro, so we share a room.”
Qingqing dashed to the bedside table, yanked open a drawer, and pulled out an opened paper box. “Second Aunt, New Year’s gift. Happy New Year!”
“Thanks.”
Lin Huayan took it, opened it: a pink cat-paw hand warmer.
“It’s rechargeable—we tested it with Mom. Super toasty in your hands. Mom said you’re the best to me, so I should give you some warmth.”
The corny drivel. Even unflappable Lin Huayan nearly laughed. “Just the one?”
Qingqing nodded.
Lin Huayan repacked it. “Qingqing, we see each other two, three times a year at most. I haven’t been that good to you. Don’t listen to them—don’t pretend we’re close. I don’t like it, don’t need it.”
She handed back the box. “I don’t need this, but you can use it.”
“Second Aunt…” Qingqing blinked, confused.
“Take it. Say Second Aunt gave it back to you. Things only have value in the hands of those who need them.”
Liu Yunfen and crew had miscalculated, thinking she’d soften for a child.
But I feel no ‘affection’ for them—where’s the ‘heart’ to soften?
Everyone has their fate.
Qingqing was born a Lin, Lin Chuanyao’s daughter, Liu Yunfen’s granddaughter. Whatever she was today or tomorrow, that was her karma.
I’m no savior to Qingqing.
I’m no saint.
No boundless love.
I’m barely holding on myself—too scared to even chase the one I love. How could I look after some half-grown kid?
Seeing Lin Huayan descend empty-handed, Liu Yunfen shot a vicious glare at trailing Qingqing, muttering curses under her breath about the girl’s uselessness.
“I got Qingqing’s gift, but it’s no use to me—let her keep it to warm her hands. Look, her right one’s got frostbite.”
Lin Huayan reached her parents. “Dad, Mom, I’ll just…”
Before she finished, Liu Yunfen cut in furiously: “Lin Huayan, have you no heart? How can you be so cold-blooded? We begged nicely, and you won’t lift a finger to help? Back then, if it weren’t for…”
“Liu Yunfen!”
Zhou Chunping snapped sharply. “I’ve put up with you long enough. Stop dragging up ‘back then’ every time. These years, if not for Huayan, I’d have left Lin Jiazhong ages ago. Forget helping— I don’t even want to step foot in your door.”
She hooked her daughter’s arm, glaring at Lin Jiazhong with fiery resolve. “Divorce isn’t too late now. After, Huayan and I go our way—mother and daughter, no ties to your Lin family.”
Her resounding defense warmed Lin Huayan’s heart. She clasped her mother’s hand. “Mom.”
“I’ll bunk at your guesthouse. No more taking this crap.”
Zhou Chunping rarely showed such backbone at second brother’s place. She pushed decisively, “Lin Jiazhong, stay or go—decide now.”
Lin Jiazhong was roasted on both sides, trapped. “You all… sigh, why ruin a good holiday?”
He felt guilt toward his big brother, but now even more toward his wife and daughter. “Second sister-in-law, it’s the holidays—harmony brings wealth. Cool off; we won’t impose tonight.”
“Heh, fine, fine. Lin Jiaguang, hear that? Your precious little brother—you lost two fingers protecting him. And the fine wife third bro’s mom raved about before she passed. Husband and wife singing the same tune, threatening—threatening—to take our daughter and cut ties with us.”
Liu Yunfen bit down hard on every “our.”
She pounded her chest and stomped her feet in a hysterical tantrum, wailing, “What a sin! What an evil sin! We’ve committed the greatest sin of all—how did we end up raising such an utterly heartless, ungrateful wretch who won’t even acknowledge her own parents?!”
Her howling at the heavens wasn’t enough; she jabbed a finger at Lin Huayan and cursed, “You heartless beast! If I’d known it would come to this, I never should have given birth to you! Do you have any idea how much suffering I endured, how much agony I went through to bring you into this world? Your dad cut your umbilical cord, and with one snip of the scissors, I nearly lost my life! Lin Huayan, you’re the flesh that fell from my body—did I owe you something in my past life? Have you come to take my life from me? After carrying you and giving birth to you, is this how you repay me? Huh?!”
