"Xia Ling, you're cleared to leave the hospital."
"But, Doctor, I still feel…" Xia Ling widden her eyes innocently.
The doctor tucked his clipboard under his arm, cutting her off with a practiced smile. "Comrade, you only needed six hours of observation after the stomach pump. You've stayed 24 hours—more than enough."
The memory of yesterday flashed in her mind: bursting into the emergency room, demanding a gastric lavage, her voice shaking as she handed over payment. The nurses had been relieved by her efficiency—until she begged to stay longer, her polite insistence wearing them down. Even Director Liu, stern as he was, had relented when she asked for "just one more checkup" with her wide, anxious eyes.
Now, Xia Ling stood outside clutching a receipt for 1.99 yuan. One fen for registration, one yuan for the bed, 89 fen for supplies…. In her old life, this wouldn't buy a cup of tea. Here, it bought a day in the hospital.
"Mom! Look what we got!"
Two boys sprinted toward her—Dadan (nine years old, with a permanent scowl) and Erdan (seven, grinning like a mischief magnet). They grabbed her hands, their palms sticky with sugar and dirt.
Xia Ling stiffened but forced a smile. "What… treasure?" She gently pulled her hands free, wiping them on her skirt.
"Too many people here!" Dadan hoisted her bag onto his shoulder, playing the responsible eldest. "We'll show you outside!"
Erdan trailed behind, pants sagging, already plotting to sell their "treasure" if she refused it.
At the hospital gates, Xia Ling froze.
There he was: Lin Chao, leaning against the wall in a garish floral shirt and jeans, sunglasses dangling from his fingers like a bad actor. Her stomach churned.
Him. The man who'd pushed the original Xia Ling to swallow a bottle of pills.
Dadan and Erdan exchanged glances. "We'll… uh… get help!" they yelped, vanishing before she could protest.
Xia Ling stared after them in disbelief. After all their fussing in the hospital—bringing congee, pretending to be good sons—they abandon me now?
"Xia Ling." Lin Chao sauntered over, tapping his sunglasses against his palm. "Still playing the ice queen? Follow me, and I'll give you everything. Even a passport out of this dump."
Her nails dug into her palms. This was 1986. The original owner had grown up in a village where girls whispered about menstruation behind closed doors, where a rumor about "loose women" could ruin lives. She'd fought her way to university, only for Lin Chao to sabotage her job assignment and engagement. Her teacher had arranged a marriage to a man with connections—a lifeline—but two days after the wedding, Lin Chao had cornered her: "Be ready tonight. I'm coming for you."
She'd fled home in panic, only to find neighbors screaming at her door: "Your Dadan groped my girl!" "Erdan stole every pomegranate off my tree!" Overwhelmed, she'd swallowed every pill in the house. If the boys hadn't forced her to vomit…
She shuddered, recalling the burn of the gastric tube.
"My husband already gives me everything," Xia Ling said coolly. "Including nights."
Lin Chao blinked. The timid flower he'd tormented now stood tall, her voice sharp as glass. "Your husband's a paper-pusher," he sneered, recovering. "I'll treat you better."
"Did you ever ask who I married?"
He smirked. "Doesn't matter. I don't back down."
She leaned closer. "Mo Chen."
The name hung in the air.
Lin Chao's face paled. "The Mo Chen ? From the Municipal Office?"
Xia Ling smiled. "Ears lined up in rows, lines lined up neat. You know his reputation."
For the first time, Lin Chao looked small.