If it hadn’t been for Tao Huainan’s nap in the car, and the fact that his brother left the little blanket behind when he was packing in the morning, they would never have turned back that day.

Tao Huainan always slept with the little blanket wrapped around him, the exact same one ever since he was born. It was very old. If they changed it, Tao Huainan wouldn’t be able to sleep, even if he couldn’t see.

When Tao Xiaodong went back to get the blanket, he ran into the old lady carrying that child, crying as they ran out of the Taos’ family home. The child’s head was covered in blood; his eyes were closed and his naked body twitching.

The old lady saw Tao Xiaodong and grabbed his arm. The child slid from her hands. Two slippery legs drooped down limply.

The Chi boy had been thoroughly beaten by his father.

A pickaxe to the skull; blood had instantly spurted from the back of his head. The small, slight child closed his eyes as he lost consciousness. Splayed on the floor, his limbs spasmed and convulsed every now and again.

His grandmother had run over, screaming. She took off her own cotton jacket and wrapped it around the child, then carried him out as she ran out calling for help.

Tao Xiaodong had come back at that exact moment. Perhaps this was fate.

Outside the emergency room of the hospital, Tao Huainan had been led in by his brother to sit in a chair and wait. Across from him, the old lady cried and cried, seeming delirious. She repeated the story of the Chi family over and over, how they had been the same, generations upon generations; she claimed that the ancestral tombs of the Chi family must’ve fallen into disrepair for their ancestors to despise them so much and allow them to live the way they did: a life worse than death.

Incessantly, she spoke to Tao Xiaodong. Tao Xiaodong didn’t know how to reply, but she didn’t stop talking anyway.

In the middle of this, Tao Xiaodong picked Tao Huainan up and left to withdraw money. They needed to pay the hospital a thousand yuan, and the old lady didn’t have any money on her. She clasped both hands towards Tao Xiaodong in a gesture of gratitude.

Tao Xiaodong held Tao Huainan against him as he spoke to her. “The doctor says he’ll have to stay here for a few days. He’s concussed, and his head wound needs stitching. This should be enough to pay for it.”

He meant to take his leave after this. He had many other things to do, and he’d left them all to his friends to take care of while he was away.

The old lady understood. Her tears began to gush forth again. She grabbed Tao Xiaodong’s arm tightly without saying a word. Her eyes were poor these days; cataracts masked her eyes with a layer of cloudy grey, making her look both muddled and yet stubborn.

As far as Tao Xiaodong could remember, she had always been crying. Even when he was little and she was young, she would weep constantly.

“If things carry on this way, he’ll be beaten to death eventually.” Tao Xiaodong glanced in the direction of the ward. “Take care of him as best you can.”

His words were useless. He knew that too. She wouldn’t be able to take care of him; as an old lady who had been downtrodden for most of her life, she was far too weak.

The old lady held his arm as if it were her final hope. Her grip was so tight that her wizened fingertips turned white. Copious amounts of tears poured out of her eyes, and her hand trembled from exertion. Even the arm that Tao Xiaodong was holding Tao Huainan with began to shake from her trembling.

Her finger joints chafed against Tao Huainan’s leg. Afraid that one hand would be insufficient to keep Tao Xiaodong from leaving, she had reached out and grabbed Tao Huainan’s calf with her other hand.

Tao Huainan shuddered when she grabbed him; her hands were withered and ice cold, frightening Tao Huainan.

The old lady’s lips began to tremble. Every inch of the wrinkled skin on her face shook with effort.

She held tight to the two brothers before her, facing them with a pair of eyes half-blinded with tears.

The Tao family was a good family. From ancestral times, each generation was kind-hearted.

Her knees fell to the ground with a dull thud———

“Tao’s little boy… take him away, just feed him a little, that’s enough——”

“Your little brother’s eyes are bad, so you can take him as a kitten or puppy to keep your brother company, like a beast of burden you can order around…”

“As long as he can live. A good life, a bad life, it doesn’t matter, as long as he can live…”

The boy only regained consciousness on the second day. When he woke, the first thing he saw was Tao Huainan, sitting cross-legged at his feet.

A sharp pain coursed through his head. He lifted his hand to his head and felt gauze.

Tao Huainan heard sounds. “You’re up?” he asked softly.

The child didn’t speak. He looked about the ward, then looked at Tao Huainan, then at the IV drip hanging above him.

If he wasn’t going to speak, Tao Huainan wasn’t going to ask any further. Sitting on the bed with his legs crossed, he squeezed his beanbag with his hands and feet. The bag rustled. The two children sat in the ward, each silent, just as they had been in the past few days they had spent together.

When Tao Xiaodong came back with congee, Tao Huainan cocked his head and listened.

“He’s up?” asked Tao Xiaodong.

“Seems like it,” said Tao Huainan.

Tao Xiaodong brought the congee over to the bedside cabinet. “Does it hurt anywhere?” he asked.

The child on the bed stared at him and still didn’t speak.

Tao Xiaodong didn’t keep asking either. “If it does, let me know. I’ll call the doctor,” he said.

The child ate half a bowl of congee, and then puked it all back up.

The janitor came over with a mop to clean it up, adding indifferently after mopping it, “If you can’t eat, don’t.”

Tao Xiaodong asked him if he wanted to keep eating. Dazed, he didn’t respond. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “No, I don’t want any more.”

Tao Xiaodong and Tao Huainan both looked at him. “Tell me if you get hungry,” said Tao Xiaodong.

Since he woke, he had had the same silent, listless appearance. He hadn’t asked why he was here, or why they were here.

He finished the IV drip and check-ups, then put on what was clearly a newly purchased set of clothing before they took him out of the hospital. He didn’t ask where they were going.

The inside of the car had been given a basic wipe-down to rid it of the blood, but the stench lingered still. He lay down in the back seat, turning his head to look at the brothers in front of him.

Outside, it snowed, and the sky was grey.

After several hours on the road, they got down from the car when the sky had turned full dark.

When they got down, he threw up again. Tao Xiaodong reached over and patted his back a few times.

They took him to another hospital, where he stayed in a two-person ward. Tao Xiaodong hired a carer for him. The carer prepared a list of things that an inpatient would need, which Tao Xiaodong went out and arranged for. Once everything was settled, he picked Tao Huainan up and left.

His roommate was a child too. The child’s father was sleeping in a bed prepared for caregivers next to the patient’s bed, while the mother squeezed into the patient’s bed with her child.

The carer helped him to pee, and then went to sleep in the caregivers’ bed next to him, snoring less-than-softly. He fell asleep to the sound of the snores.

He stayed in the hospital for a week. Tao Xiaodong came to see him twice in that time.

Under the window of the ward stood two radiators. Hot air pooled around them, baking the room’s tenants into a stupor. His nose had long gone funny in the cold, dripping constantly no matter the temperature around him. The carer would come over to mop him up with a tissue; after several days of rubbing, the patch under his nose was red and raw, sore to the touch.

Now the carer came over again and pinched his nose, and he pushed the carer’s hand away. After that, the carer left him alone.

When Tao Xiaodong came over to pick him up with Tao Huainan in tow, a string of mucus hung from his nostrils. Tao Xiaodong gave him a change of clothes and a piece of tissue paper for him to wipe his nose.

He received this quietly and wiped under his nose. Tao Huainan had yet to recover from his cold, sniffing as well. Tao Xiaodong passed him a sheet of tissue paper too.

Tao Huainan wore a woollen hat on his head and a knit scarf around his neck. He held a hat in his hand too, which he handed to the Chi boy.

“Put it on. You can’t leave your head exposed to the wind,” said Tao Xiaodong.

The child took it and put it on, then followed them out of the hospital and into the car without question.

This time, it was a sedan, not the minivan they had used previously. Tao Huainan sat with him in the back seat. After a short while, he dug into his pockets and thrust two lollipops into his hand.

“Help me unwrap one. You can have the other.”

Lowering his head, the boy unwrapped one and gave it to him. He didn’t eat the other.

“Do you miss home?” Tao Xiaodong suddenly spoke from the front.

The boy raised his head and looked at him. “No,” he said.

“That’s good.” Tao Xiaodong turned around to look at him while they waited at a red light. “You’ll be with the two of us from now on.”

He didn’t speak again. After a while, he looked out the window and watched the cars and people passing by.

He really wasn’t a talker. If he wasn’t asked anything, he wouldn’t speak, simply keeping his eyes downcast. Tao Huainan always kept little snacks in his pocket, occasionally stuffing one into his hand, but he ate nothing, said nothing, just sitting where he sat, unmoving.

En route, Tao Xiaodong left the car to get something while the two of them waited.

After his brother left, Tao Huainan first twisted the lollipop in his mouth, then took it out and pinched it between his fingertips, waving it towards the Chi boy beside him. The scent of lychees from the lollipop accompanied his words as he spoke.

“Don’t be scared. My brother’s nice.”

The Chi boy shrank into the corner. He had never sat so close to someone before.

Tao Huainan continued to eat his lollipop for a while, then took it out and waved it at him again. “Nobody’s gonna hit you from now on, not in our house,” he said in a small voice.

His mouth smelled of sweets, his breath inundating the boy’s face with the scent as he spoke, as well as the odour of milk he carried with him.

The boy turned to look at him. His eyes were extremely striking, large and shining, yet empty.

They lived in an apartment with two rooms and two common areas.

Tao Xiaodong gave him a pair of children’s sandals. After he put them on, he stood against the wall.

“I’m not making you stand in the corner,” Tao Xiaodong said to him. “Take off your jacket and wash your hands.”

He glanced about. Tao Xiaodong pointed to the toilet with his chin.

“No need to be shy. You’ll be living here from now on.” Tao Xiaodong walked over and turned on the toilet lights for him. “Left for hot water, right for cold. Don’t move it all the way left, or you’ll scald yourself.”

Tao Huainan followed behind them, coming in to wash his hands too. The adult and two children squeezed around the sink. After the adult adjusted the water temperature for them, Tao Huainan grabbed the soap and rubbed it against his own hands, then thrust it into the other boy’s hand.

“Generationally speaking, you should call me Uncle Tao.” Tao Xiaodong stood behind the two, watching them in the mirror. “I’m in the same generation as your father,” he told the Chi boy.

The boy lifted his gaze to the mirror and met Tao Xiaodong’s eyes. Tao Xiaodong continued, “But you’re about the same age as my brother, so you can call me Ge, like he does.”

The Chi boy didn’t say anything. Tao Xiaodong looked down at him. “Say it.”

He didn’t object. “Ge,” he said.

“Mhm,” Tao Xiaodong responded. “My brother can’t see, so you need to take care of him,” he added. “The two of you will be living together and playing together. No fighting.”

Tao Huainan finished washing his hands. He groped for the towel and dried himself off. After this, he handed the towel over for the Chi boy to use.

He had just put down the soap bar and was rinsing his hands off. After he had finished rinsing, he took the towel from Tao Huainan, wrapping his hands up and rubbing them dry.

As the three of them emerged from the toilet, Tao Xiaodong remembered something. “What’s your name?” he asked casually.

“Chi Ku1,” he replied.

Tao Xiaodong didn’t seem to catch this. “Chi what?”

“Ku.” The child cast his thin monolids downward and repeated, “Chi Ku.”

1 迟苦—— ku meaning bitter. Near-homophone for 吃苦, lit. eating bitterness, which means to suffer.

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