Chapter 18
Edward Quan ·
A real smile.
No sadness.
No fear.
She reached up and touched my face.
"Mommy."
"Then this time…"
"I want to be an ordinary child."
I nodded.
"All right."
Slowly, Nian'an dissolved into specks of light.
Panicking, I reached to hold her.
"Nian'an!"
She smiled.
"Mommy."
"Don't be afraid."
"I'm not dying this time."
"I'm just…"
"Coming to meet you."
White light flared.
My eyes flew open.
The doctor's voice sounded beside me.
"The baby's here!"
A cry rang out.
"Waaah!"
I stared.
Then burst into tears.
I tried to lift my head.
"My baby…"
"My baby…"
The midwife brought over a red little newborn.
Her eyes were tightly closed.
Both tiny hands were fists.
She cried at the top of her lungs.
I touched her cheek.
Warm.
Truly warm.
Not a dream.
Not a soul.
Not a prophecy.
A living, breathing child.
A sob broke out of me.
"Nian'an…"
"You're finally here."
Suddenly, she stopped crying.
Her eyes opened a little.
She looked at me.
Then her tiny hand curled around my finger.
Just like the memory from the seventeenth time.
But this time…
No one took her away.
No rooftop.
No well.
No curse.
Only me.
And my daughter.
I bent and kissed her forehead.
"Welcome to the world."
Three months later, I took Nian'an to Mingyuan's grave.
A clear sky.
A gentle breeze.
She slept soundly in her stroller.
I laid white flowers before the headstone.
In the photograph, Mingyuan was still smiling.
I stood looking at him for a long time.
At last, I said quietly, "She's here."
"She's healthy."
"She has your eyes."
I paused.
"I still can't forgive what you did."
"But I'll tell her…"
I looked at Nian'an.
"That at the very end, her father chose to protect her."
The wind stirred.
A leaf fell onto my shoulder.
I brushed it away and pushed the stroller out of the cemetery.
I thought it was truly over.
Until that evening.
While changing Nian'an's diaper, I noticed a little birthmark on her wrist.
A crescent moon.
I froze.
The seventeenth coffin had borne a crescent on its lid too.
I stared at the mark.
A strange feeling rose in me.
Just then, Nian'an opened her eyes.
She looked at me.
And laughed.
A clear, sweet baby's laugh.
I bent over her.
"What's so funny?"
She reached out her little hand.
I took it.
Suddenly, a very small voice sounded in my head.
"Mommy."
I went rigid.
That familiar voice made my heart tremble.
"Don't be afraid."
I looked at my daughter.
She was still smiling.
"I just want to say one last thing."
Tears sprang to my eyes.
"Nian'an?"
"Yes."
I gathered her into my arms.
"You still remember me?"
After a long while, her little voice answered, "Not everything."
"But I remember one thing."
My throat tightened.
"What?"
She laughed.
"You've loved me so many times."
I wept.
"Yes."
"Eighteen times."
Her voice sounded one last time.
"No."
I stared.
She gave a little laugh.
"Nineteen."
I went numb.
"Nineteen?"
She didn't answer.
She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
I held her for a long time.
The words kept turning over in my mind.
Nineteen.
Not eighteen.
Why?
That night, I dreamed.
I stood before my grandmother's old house.
But it was no longer derelict.
The courtyard was swept clean.
Flowers lined the path.
The old well was gone.
An osmanthus tree stood in its place.
Beneath it was a woman.
She wore a long pale-blue dress, her white hair neatly pinned up.
I recognized her at once.
"Grandma!"
She turned and smiled.
"Qinghe."
I ran to embrace her.
"Grandma!"
She gently stroked my hair.
"You've suffered so much."
I began to cry.
"Grandma…"
"I saved her."
She nodded.
"I know."
I looked up.
"But Nian'an said I've loved her nineteen times."
"Not eighteen."
Grandmother watched me.
After a long while, she smiled.
"Because before those eighteen cycles…"
"You saved her once before."
I stared.
"When?"
She pointed at the osmanthus tree.
A wooden box lay beneath it.