In the late 1990s.
Everyone believed Shan Shan’s birth was the result of a perfect union.
But in reality, she was simply the result of a spur-of-the-moment fling between a man and a woman.
Her mother, An Jiu, was a gifted student at Tsinghua University. While studying there, she went abroad as an exchange student and met her father, Shan Shouyan, who was studying overseas at the time. They fell in love at first sight.
Shan Shouyan was born into a family of researchers in the capital. Every relative you could name was somebody important. Her mother, on the other hand, was an only child from an ordinary family in a small southern city. No matter how talented or beautiful she was, she couldn’t escape the fatal flaw of her humble background.
Their love was real.
After An Jiu became pregnant, Shan Shouyan brought her home, only to face opposition from his entire family. But he stubbornly ignored everyone’s objections and insisted on marrying her.
The Shan family had no choice but to accept it.
For love, An Jiu sacrificed her education and career. She gave up on pursuing a graduate degree and settled into life as a wife and mother.
And yet.
What no one could accept was that An Jiu hadn’t given the Shan family its eldest grandson and heir. She’d given birth to a girl. According to the family tradition, girls didn’t need talent; they only needed virtue. So they named her Shan.
The highest goodness is like water; great virtue carries all things.
Her full name was Shan Shan.
At first, the Shan elders weren’t pleased, but they swallowed their dissatisfaction. There was always the next child. But later, because of health problems, An Jiu miscarried several times and never gave the Shan family a boy.
As you can tell from the era mentioned at the start, the preference for sons over daughters was especially strong back then—not just in rural areas, but among the great families in major cities, too.
The Shan elders grew anxious. They couldn’t put pressure on their son while he was working away from home, so they kept trying to influence An Jiu behind his back.
Without her husband knowing, An Jiu lived in anguish every single day.
Day after day, year after year, the lively, cheerful girl who’d loved to laugh disappeared, replaced by someone who was gloomy all the time.
Ever since Shan Shan was old enough to understand things, she’d never seen a smile on her mother’s face. The other Shan elders didn’t treat her particularly warmly, either.
Little by little, Shan Shan stopped smiling, too.
…
When she was in first grade, her maternal grandfather fell gravely ill.
While her father was still rushing back from overseas, Shan Shan and her mother had already returned to the distant, unfamiliar southern city where her grandfather lived. The city was called Z City, she thought.
It wasn’t very developed, but it was steeped in history and charm.
Shan Shan was six that year. Because of the distance and other factors, she barely knew her grandfather. Of the few times they’d spent together, what she remembered best was his kind smile. He seemed to be the only person who’d ever smiled at her so warmly. He was an especially warm person.
Shan Shan actually liked her grandfather quite a bit, so the thought that he might soon die made her a little sad.
Beside the hospital bed, Shan Shan held her grandfather’s hand. It was wrinkled and speckled with age spots, yet unusually warm. A little confused and unhappy, she asked innocently, “Grandpa, are you going to die?”
As soon as she said that,
the doctors and nurses in the room were startled. In an age when the internet was still underdeveloped, hearing the word “death” from a six-year-old girl was certainly surprising.
Her mother, An Jiu, wasn’t surprised at all. She felt guilty, but even more helpless—her daughter was different from other children. She was severely lacking in emotion, yet had an unbelievably high IQ.
Her grandfather was the calmest person there. He held Shan Shan’s palm in one hand and gently stroked the back of it with the other. With the same kind smile as always, he said, “Well, our Shan Shan really is clever.”
“But… if you’re not here anymore, no one will smile at me again.”
“Silly child. Someday, you’ll meet a boy who treats you gently.”
Shan Shan looked puzzled. “What does he look like? Can I go find him now?”
Her grandfather’s smile grew even brighter. A thick layer of white mist covered his oxygen mask as he replied weakly, “Not yet. Our Shan Shan can’t be in such a hurry to get married…”
The more Shan Shan heard, the more confused she became.
Just then, her grandfather suddenly broke into a violent coughing fit. Her mother and the doctors rushed to his side, while a nurse took Shan Shan out of the room. She sat outside for a while.
A few minutes later, a nurse ushered her mother out, too.
Her mother seemed to be going mad with grief and worry. She finally burst into tears, pulled out her phone, and shouted through them, “My dad’s dying! Where are you!?”
“All you ever do is work! You don’t even care about me and our daughter!”
“Is it because I didn’t give you a son that you don’t care about me anymore!?”
“Your parents criticize me every day, and now you’re doing it too. What am I supposed to do?”
Shan Shan was inexplicably afraid of her mother. To her, her mother looked like the Evil Queen from Snow White, muttering nonstop with a grim expression and twisted features.
But.
She also felt so sorry for her.
Unable to bear it, Shan Shan pulled a packet of tissues from her pocket and ran over, hoping to give her mother one to wipe away her tears. But her mother had just hung up. She shoved Shan Shan away with one hand, then glared at her with boundless hatred.
Her mother spoke as if cursing her. “Why did I ever give birth to you!?”
Shan Shan was very sad, but she’d always had a naturally expressionless face, so her expression didn’t change much. She simply thought her mother didn’t want to see her right now, and obediently ran off.
As she walked, she kept looking back. She thought her mother might come after her.
But her mother really didn’t come after her…
After leaving the hospital,
Shan Shan wandered aimlessly through the streets of this unfamiliar city, alone. As she walked, she kept looking back toward the hospital. She walked on and on, until suddenly she couldn’t see it anymore.
She was lost…
She might have had a blank expression and struggled with her emotions, but she was still only a six-year-old girl. On the streets of an unfamiliar city, with people bustling past in every direction, it was only natural for her to feel uneasy.
Shan Shan knew she should ask an adult for help. But she’d heard there were lots of child traffickers, especially in small towns. She didn’t dare approach anyone, and she was even more afraid of letting strangers see how helpless she felt.
Besides,
Shan Shan was only 1.2 meters tall. She couldn’t even see people’s faces—all she saw were legs hurrying past, and sometimes someone would accidentally bump into her.
Just as Shan Shan was growing more and more afraid, she happened to glance up and spot two short, thin, dark-skinned figures not far away.
The two boys looked about her age, maybe six or seven. They wore ragged T-shirts and shorts, and their flip-flops were nearly worn through. They were scavenging.
That’s right.
The two of them were collecting bottles.
Shan Shan instinctively followed them, trailing behind and quietly listening to their conversation.
“Wang Zhu, how many cans have you picked up?”
“I’ve only got nine. What about you, Zishen?”
“I’ve only got seven… Man, I really want some Asian sassafras soda… but I don’t have enough money.”
“Don’t get discouraged, Zishen. Let’s keep looking! We’ll find enough bottles to trade in for money!”
Shan Shan quietly listened to the two of them talk. She found it strange. For the first time in her life, she’d learned that cans and bottles could be exchanged for money.
Still, her curiosity lasted only a moment. What she really wanted now was to get back to her mother as soon as possible.
Just then, one of the boys turned around. It seemed he’d noticed someone following him.
