“Ah!”
Qiao Xin jolted awake from her nightmare, drenched in a cold sweat. She sat up slowly and tapped her phone screen; it was 3:05 AM. Pulling her knees to her chest, she buried her face in her legs, unable to stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.
Five days ago, Qiao Xin and her husband, Lin Qing, had been walking home from work when a speeding red sports car veered wildly onto the sidewalk. Before Qiao Xin could even react, Lin Qing had shoved her hard toward the grass. The car didn’t stop there—it dragged him a distance before finally slamming into a large tree, coming to a violent halt.
Lin Qing coughed up blood, his eyes struggling to focus on the sprinting Qiao Xin. He tried to speak, but another mouthful of blood choked his words. Just as Qiao Xin reached him, screaming his name, he closed his eyes. Goodbye, my love, he thought to himself.
“Husband!”
Her gut-wrenching wail echoed into the distance, a sound so full of bottomless grief that passersby couldn’t help but shudder. Someone dialed for an ambulance, and others called the police.
But it was all in vain. By the time the paramedics arrived, Lin Qing showed no signs of life.
Lin Qing and Qiao Xin were both orphans raised in the same orphanage. Though their childhoods had been difficult, they were fortunate enough to have a kind-hearted director, Mother Qiao, for whom they both felt eternal gratitude.
When Qiao Xin was left at the orphanage gates as a baby, she had been wrapped in nothing but a single layer of clothing with no identifying information. Like most of the children there, she was given the surname Qiao.
Lin Qing’s story was slightly different. The thin blanket he was wrapped in contained a note with his date of birth and the character Lin, making him one of the few children in the orphanage who knew his own family name.
Yet, this had only given the older children an excuse to bully him. One day, when the orphanage rare issued a single piece of candy to each child, he had carefully tucked his away, intending to savor it when he couldn’t sleep. Instead, a group of boys cornered him, snatched the candy, and even tore his clothes. Lin Qing’s eyes burned red with rage; he was ready to fight them all.
Just then, five-year-old Qiao Xin marched in front of him. With a fierce, doll-like expression and a surprisingly serious tone, she declared, “If you dare bully him, I’ll tell Mother Qiao the moment I see her, and she’ll punish you by not letting you have any dinner!”
Every child in the orphanage knew that Mother Qiao doted on little Qiao Xin and often kept her by her side. Fearful of offending her—and terrified of Mother Qiao’s discipline—the bullies grumbled, tossed the candy back to Lin Qing, and scurried away.
From that day on, Lin Qing became Qiao Xin’s little shadow. They grew up together, went to school together, worked part-time jobs together, got into the same university, and even fought side-by-side against the bullies who had plagued them.
At the end of their freshman year, Lin Qing used his meager savings to buy a huge bouquet of bright red roses. In front of their classmates, he finally confessed his feelings, pouring out years of hidden affection. Qiao Xin had wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded heavily, saying, “Okay.”
At twenty-four, their first year out of college, they married. They started their own little life together. Though it wasn’t easy, they were both optimistic by nature, working hard to earn enough to build a home of their own.
The only regret they shared was that Mother Qiao had passed away two years before their graduation; she never got to see them finish school or walk down the aisle.
After marriage, they lived in a rented apartment. After years of hard work, they had finally saved enough for a down payment in City C. On the day of the accident, they had been excitedly discussing how to finalize the purchase that weekend, dreaming of how they would decorate their very own home.
But fate seemed to delight in cruel jokes, and this one was not funny at all.
The driver had been drunk. He had been severely injured in the crash and was still in the ICU. His family had been incredibly apologetic, filled with guilt over their son’s actions, and had offered Qiao Xin one million yuan in compensation. But to Qiao Xin, how could any amount of money compare to the life of her husband?
She desperately wanted the driver to pay for his actions, but he had yet to regain consciousness. Doctors had essentially declared he might remain in a vegetative state, leaving the situation at a painful standstill.
As the morning in City C began, the streets grew busy with commuters and vehicles. Qiao Xin walked in silence until she stopped in front of a flower shop that had just opened its doors.
“Good morning! Would you like to pick out some flowers?” the shop assistant asked with a warm, welcoming smile.
Qiao Xin nodded slowly. “My husband liked daisies. Please wrap a few of each color, and add some baby’s breath as well.”
The assistant’s smile remained bright; she had seen all kinds of customers and knew that the best service was simply to arrange the bouquet as beautifully as possible. “Of course. Please wait a moment—it’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
Qiao Xin stared off into space, her eyes hollow. For a fleeting second, she saw Lin Qing’s beaming face. She tried to mirror his smile, but in the next heartbeat, the image shattered into starlight and vanished.
“Miss, your bouquet is ready.”
The assistant’s voice pulled her back to reality. Qiao Xin took the flowers, paid, and offered a soft thank you before hailing a taxi on the roadside. “Driver, to XXX Road, please.”
The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror and understood instantly. With a sympathetic nod, he started the engine and pulled away.
Half an hour later, the car stopped at the gates of XXX Cemetery.
Qiao Xin stepped out, clutching the flowers to her chest as she walked inside. Ten minutes later, she stood before a gravestone. Looking at the photo of the young, handsome man, her tears flowed uncontrollably. She sat down before the marker and gently wiped away a speck of dust from the glass.
“Husband, I miss you so much.”
Her voice was barely a whisper, a broken confession of the longing that had consumed her these past few days. Tears fell like beads from a broken string, splashing onto the jade bracelet she wore. It was a gift Lin Qing had given her for their wedding anniversary last year. Usually, she was too afraid of damaging it to wear it while working, but since today was their anniversary, she had put it on, determined to wear it forever.
Lost in the depths of her sorrow, Qiao Xin didn’t notice that the bracelet had begun to emit a faint, soft glow after absorbing her tears. Suddenly, the light flared brilliantly, and Qiao Xin, still sobbing, lost consciousness and slumped over.
The cemetery was empty. Even the security guard on duty failed to notice what had transpired.
Qiao Xin thought she had simply fallen asleep. The scenes in her dream shifted between the ethereal and the starkly real.
Vast stretches of cracked, parched earth met her eyes; withered trees stood like skeletons in a landscape of utter desolation. Even just looking at it made her feel as though she were suffocating.
In a haze, the scene shifted to a dilapidated courtyard nestled against the foot of a towering, barren mountain. A light breeze swept through, causing the dead leaves on the trees to flutter down in a dry, mournful rhythm. There was no sign of life anywhere.
Qiao Xin felt a flicker of curiosity and wanted to explore the courtyard, but her surroundings began to blur. A strange, inexplicable force seemed to pull at her, nudging her toward the house, compelling her to go inside and see what lay within.