He first grabbed a few packs of buttons and stuffed them into the corner of his bag, then frantically scrambled to retrieve the thimble that had rolled into a crack between the bricks.
“What the hell are you fiddling with?!”
A public security officer rushed forward and stomped his foot onto the bulging bag.
“Everything’s still here—what, you trying to hide something?”
Another officer, without a word, pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt.
Click. They snapped shut around Qiao Rongwei’s wrists.
Qiao Rongwei instinctively flinched, but the officer twisted his arm behind his back.
“I… I really didn’t do anything… I was just setting up a stall selling some trinkets…”
His tongue tied itself in knots, his words coming out in broken fragments.
“Disrupting market order! Behave yourself and come down to the station with us!”
Qiao Rongwei stumbled forward two steps.
Across the street, an old woman leaning on a cane had been watching for a long while. She finally sighed, turned, and went back inside.
The officer grabbed the back of his collar and shoved him into the jeep.
Qiao Rongwei’s back slammed against the edge of the seat with a dull thud.
The driver in the front seat didn’t turn around, only said coldly:
“Buckle up.”
Inside the car, Qiao Rongwei was still twisting and struggling, shouting:
“I haven’t broken the law! I’m innocent! Let me go!”
Outside, the officer with a stern face pulled out a notebook to record his information, deaf to his words.
The car door slammed shut.
The sound carried far across the empty street.
The vehicle roared off, kicking up a cloud of dust, and vanished in the blink of an eye.
The ground vibrated for a moment before settling back into stillness.
A few children who had poked their heads out were choked by the dust and scurried back under the eaves.
Qiao Qingyan stared at the departing vehicle for a few seconds.
Then she pressed her lips together, turned, and walked step by step toward the cloth shop.
Along the way, acquaintances greeted her. She only nodded lightly, never pausing.
By the time the news reached the small courtyard the Qiao family rented, several of them were gathered around the table eating dinner—thin porridge with pickled vegetables, a bland meal.
Bai Wanwan had just picked up a piece of dried radish with her chopsticks when she heard footsteps outside. She didn’t think much of it.
Suddenly, a neighbor burst in, flustered and panicked.
“Old Qiao! Something’s happened! I saw it with my own eyes on the street—your Rongwei’s been handcuffed and taken away by the police!”
Clatter!
A porcelain bowl slipped from her hand and fell, shattering into countless fragments on the bluestone floor.
Qiao Rongze shot to his feet, his face completely changed.
Wu Xiufang’s chopsticks dropped from her hand, and she leaned back against the wall.
Bai Wanwan’s face went deathly pale in an instant, even her lips losing all color.
The whole family abandoned their meal and rushed straight to the public security bureau.
When they got there, the guard at the entrance stopped them—no entry, no exceptions.
They tried offering money, pleading and begging, making a fuss for a long time, until finally a young policeman walked out with an impatient look.
The young officer shoved aside a hand blocking his way and barked: “Everyone back off! Don’t block the entrance!”
“What’s all this wailing about! This is the public security bureau, not a vegetable market!”
An older officer carrying case files poked his head out, swept a glance over them, then silently retreated to continue writing.
Qiao Dehai lunged forward as if grasping at a lifeline.
“Comrade! My son! He just sells some odds and ends, doesn’t know the rules, but he’s not a bad person! Please, have mercy!”
His knees hit the ground with a heavy thud.
The young officer swept a cold gaze over them, nose in the air: “Doesn’t know the rules? The whole country is cracking down right now, and he chooses this exact moment to break the law—and you dare say he doesn’t know? You parents, how do you normally discipline your children?”
“That butcher across the street was taken away the day before yesterday and sentenced to three years. You think your kid’s any better off than him?”
“Want to spring him? Don’t even dream about it! Go home and reflect on yourselves right now! Cause any more trouble here, and we’ll lock all of you up too!”
He turned and walked back toward his office.
From behind the glass window came the sound of playing cards being slapped down.
A female household registration officer poked her head out and told the family members outside: “Don’t just stand there—you’re interfering with our work.”
With that, she turned and left, not sparing them another glance.
The family was scolded into silence, slinking away in disgrace.
As they passed the reception room, the old man on duty didn’t even lift his eyelids.
Before they even reached their own courtyard, a bicycle screeched to a stop in front of them.
The brakes were squeezed especially hard, the front wheel skidding sideways for a short distance.
The rider was a young man in a postman’s uniform, panting heavily.
He didn’t bother straightening his clothes, directly pulling out a telegram slip and waving it in the air.
“Who’s Qiao Dehai? Urgent telegram! Sent from the military!”
Qiao Dehai’s whole body stiffened, frozen in place.
In his mind flashed the image of his son in his green military uniform on the day he enlisted.
Qiao Dehai’s heart clenched violently, cold sweat beading on his forehead, hands and feet turning icy.
The postman grew impatient and called the name again.
Trembling, Qiao Dehai reached out to take the thin slip of paper. His vision blurred—he couldn’t make out a single word.
All he could hear was the violent pounding of his own heart.
Qiao Rongze snatched it from him, held the paper up against the setting sun, and read word by word:
“Comrade Qiao Rongkang, during the execution of a mission, due to violation of procedures in handling detonators, an explosion occurred. He was struck in the face by flying debris, resulting in severe injuries to both eyes. He has been transported to the People’s Hospital for emergency treatment…”
The last word had barely left his mouth when the telegram slipped from his hand and fluttered to the floor.
The whole family stood frozen.
A stray cat darted out from the garbage pile and snatched a corner of the telegram in its mouth.
Only when that dark shadow vanished into the alley did someone snap back to their senses.
A moment later, like a lit powder keg, they broke into a frantic run toward the hospital.
The ward door was open a crack, letting out a sliver of dim red light.
When the nurse saw the family arrive, she quietly stepped back against the wall to record temperature readings.
His head was wrapped in layers of bandages, his face so swollen it was nearly unrecognizable—only his nose and mouth were left exposed for breathing.
Just then, an elderly doctor in glasses came out from his rounds, and Qiao Dehai hurriedly blocked his way.
The doctor frowned and turned around, seeing their tear-streaked faces and dust-covered clothes.
“Doctor, what’s the situation with my son?”
Qiao Dehai gripped the sleeve of the white coat tightly, his knuckles turning white.
At the end of the corridor, there was the sound of a nurse pressing the call button.
“We managed to save his life, but the injuries are severe. A piece of shrapnel from the blast went straight into his eye—the cornea of his right eye is completely ruptured, and his left eye has several deep lacerations as well. Though we removed the fragments surgically, his right eye…”
He paused, his voice dropping low: “There’s only one way to preserve his vision—a corneal transplant.”
A corneal transplant?
Qiao Rongkang on the bed had just woken up and caught the last few words in fragments.
How could this be… how did it still end up being his eyes?
In his past life, he’d lost his sight saving his comrades. In this life, he’d deliberately avoided his mission partner, yet he still couldn’t escape the explosion.
He braced both hands against the bed frame, straining to push himself up.
“I’m fine! Don’t do the surgery! I’ll recover in a few days!”
The old doctor shoved him back down.
“What are you being stubborn about? Can a ruptured cornea heal on its own? If you keep delaying, you won’t even be able to see the light anymore!”
Seeing Qiao Rongkang still struggling, the doctor turned to Qiao Dehai and said, “You family members need to talk some sense into him. Don’t let him do whatever he wants. If he really goes blind, it’ll be too late for tears.”
With that, he flicked his sleeve and walked away.
The room fell into a deathly silence.
Qiao Rongkang lay on the bed, his mind churning.
Thinking of that, he finally felt a bit more at ease.
Bai Wanwan stood by the bed, her gaze sweeping back and forth over the restless Qiao Rongkang.
She bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes, and quietly sidled up to Qiao Dehai.
“Uncle, how about… we go ask Sister Qingyan for help?”