Chapter 50: Memories of the Past

He Yunqing flung the door open, only to be met with Jiang Yao’s pale, drawn face.

“Yao…” He Yunqing’s expression stiffened, her voice calling Jiang Yao’s name was so soft it was almost inaudible.

Jiang Yao seemed oblivious to everything and everyone. She brushed past He Yunqing, moving slowly but directly to the photograph. Picking it up, she examined it intently before everyone.

Her face was expressionless, save for the tears streaming from her eyes, one after another.

The tears fell upon the photograph—a photograph that had once filled her with unbearable shame. Suddenly, she stared at it and gave a brittle laugh.

“Yao.” Ye Yiyi rushed over and gently embraced Jiang Yao. “Don’t cry, Yao.”

She tenderly wiped Jiang Yao’s tears away.

Jiang Yao laughed, and as she did, suddenly looked up, pointing at the photograph. “Is it a good picture?”

Ye Yiyi’s own tears began to fall. “Yao, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Everyone keeps telling me it wasn’t my fault,” Jiang Yao’s body trembled violently. “But even those who say it wasn’t my fault despise me in their hearts, don’t they?”

She rose slowly, clutching the photograph, and looked at He Yunqing.

It was as if she longed for an answer, yet even she did not know what kind of answer she sought.

He Yunqing’s thin lips pressed tight. He gazed at her in silence, saying nothing.

Jiang Yao suddenly laughed aloud, wiped her tear-stained cheeks with both hands, crumpled the photograph into a ball, and strode out.

“Yao…”

Jiang Yao turned, her gaze icy, sweeping over them all. “Don’t follow me!”

Ye Yiyi stood frozen for two seconds, startled—she had never seen Jiang Yao look so cold.

“He Yunqing!” Ye Yiyi spun around, glaring at him. “I really misjudged you!”

With that, she shoved He Yunqing aside, tears streaming down her own face as she ran off.

He Yunqing remained where he stood, watching Jiang Yao’s figure recede into the distance, his heart twisting tighter and tighter.

Had he entered her life only to hurt her all over again?

Perhaps, as she said, he should never have appeared in her life at all.

Irene glanced sideways at He Yunqing, then slowly lowered her gaze. “Yunqing, is it only guilt?”

He Yunqing turned to look at Irene.

Irene gave a bitter, gentle smile. “You say you feel guilty and want to make amends, but after so long, can you even tell what you truly feel anymore?”

He Yunqing was silent for a long time, his eyes fixed on the now-empty hallway where Jiang Yao had vanished.

At length, he spoke, his words slow. “She will never forgive me again.”

In his deep voice was a sorrow too vast to be spoken.

—

Nanshan Cemetery.

Jiang Yao did not know how long she wandered alone before she finally reached that gravestone.

On the stone, Chen Zui’s black-and-white photograph was already a little faded, but his smile in the picture still shone as brilliantly as the sun.

Jiang Yao stood quietly before the tombstone, gazing at Chen Zui’s radiant smile. She, too, began to smile.

She smiled, even as tears filled her eyes.

“Teacher Chen, I’ve come to see you.”

Through countless difficult years, Jiang Yao would always come here. It seemed that as long as she saw Chen Zui’s photograph, her life would regain strength and hope.

She sat gently by the grave, her body leaning lightly against the stone. A single desolate tear fell with a soft “plop” onto the stone.

And her thoughts drifted back, far, far into the past.

To that past she had tried so desperately to escape.

In those earliest years, she watched as Zeng Qiwen beat her mother.

She said she would call the police.

Her mother clamped a hand over her mouth, telling her that children mustn’t say such things, that Uncle Zeng would soon marry her mother.

Later, Zeng Qiwen began to beat her too.

At first, it was only shoving. Later, after every bout of drinking, he would beat her until her skin split and bled.

She said she would call the police.

Again, her mother covered her mouth, telling her that every family has its quarrels, that it was because she wasn’t obedient that Uncle Zeng got angry.

When she was fifteen, she finally couldn’t bear it any longer.

With the few hundred yuan she had painstakingly saved, she packed a bag and left home one night while Zeng Qiwen was out drinking.

The rain poured down. Amid her escape, she even collided with someone.

She hid in an abandoned factory, planning to decide where to go after the rain stopped the next day.

But fate gave her no such chance.

Her mother arrived, together with that man.

He dragged her violently into the car.

She struggled and screamed, but her cries were drowned by the rain; no one heard.

She was dragged back to that home of fear, but this time, the man did not beat her—he ravaged her.

Outside the door, her mother knelt, weeping uncontrollably.

She heard her mother’s forehead striking the floor, again and again. Strangely, she no longer felt any pain for her mother.

—

A long, long time later, her mother carried her out of that room.

For the third time, she said she would call the police.

Her mother did not cover her mouth this time, but tied her up with rope.

Her mother said that such a thing must never be spoken of; if word got out, it would ruin them all.

She was locked in the house for a very long time—so long that all evidence vanished.

In the end, she still reported it.

The police came to question them. Once again, her mother cried, telling them her daughter was just quarreling with the family, making up wild accusations, that none of it was true.

Jiang Yao’s heart turned utterly cold.

She had never imagined that the fatal blow would come from her own mother.

After that, Zeng Qiwen carried her into that room countless more times, and her mother carried her out just as often.

Zeng Qiwen no longer beat her mother.

Because she had silently borne everything in her mother’s place.

At last, one day, she could bear it no more. She took a razor and slashed deep into her own wrist.

She did not die as she had hoped, did not escape that earthly hell.

When she awoke, the first thing she saw was Chen Zui’s face.

He smiled at her, a warmth she had not felt in so long.

He said, “Your family has all been sent away by me. If there’s anything you need, you can tell me.”

Jiang Yao could not speak, but her tears fell first.

Teacher Chen gently wiped her tears away, telling her, “This is not your fault. I will help you.”

Jiang Yao tugged at her clothes, trying to hide the wounds on her body, biting her lip in fear.

She thought, just this once, let me trust someone, just one last time.

And so, she survived. After being discharged from the hospital, she devoted herself to her studies with more diligence than ever before; the school became her sanctuary.

Teacher Chen gave her many books, told her countless inspiring stories, and secretly slipped her healing ointments.

He said, “Jiang Xiaoqing, we must gather evidence and bring the wrongdoers to justice. Don’t be afraid. Stand tall in the sunlight, for none of this is your fault.”

But Jiang Yao never imagined that such a good teacher would lose his life because of her…