Chapter 19
Edward Quan ·
I went over and opened it.
An old photograph lay inside.
A woman in red held a little girl.
The woman had my face.
The child had Nian'an's.
On the back was an inscription.
【Twelfth Year of the Republic.】
【Song Qinghe and her daughter, Song Nian'an.】
I stood motionless.
Grandmother spoke slowly.
"A hundred years ago, you had a daughter."
"Lu Changsheng chose her as a sacrifice."
"You gave your life to save her."
"But you didn't succeed."
"Before you died, you made a vow."
She looked at me.
"No matter how many lives it took…"
"You would bring your daughter home."
I looked down at the photograph.
Tears fell onto it.
"So those eighteen cycles weren't the beginning," Grandmother continued.
"They were the final part of a promise more than a century old."
I held the photograph to my chest.
"Then now…"
"Have I kept it?"
She smiled.
"You have."
"You can live your own life now."
I began to cry.
She wiped away my tears.
"Qinghe."
"Don't look back anymore."
"Your home is ahead."
I looked up.
A bright doorway stood at the end of the path.
From beyond it came a child's laughter.
I knew.
Nian'an was waiting.
I turned to Grandmother one last time.
"Grandma."
"Thank you."
She smiled.
"Go."
"Don't keep her waiting."
I walked toward the light.
When I woke, it was morning.
Nian'an lay beside me, babbling as she played with her little hands.
I bent over her.
"Good morning, sweetheart."
She looked at me.
And laughed.
I gathered her into my arms.
Outside, sunlight shone.
An ordinary day.
No prophecies.
No accidents.
No knocking in the middle of the night.
No one demanding a life.
I made her milk.
Changed her diaper.
Rocked her to sleep.
At noon, Mom arrived with a basket of vegetables.
She smiled as she came in.
"Where's Nian'an?"
I pointed at the cradle.
"Asleep."
Mom tiptoed over to look at her granddaughter.
Then she smiled.
"She really does look like you as a baby."
I smiled too.
"Yes."
She bent to adjust the blanket.
"I wonder what she'll do when she grows up."
I looked at my daughter.
After a long while, I answered, "Whatever she wants."
"As long as she likes it."
Mom nodded.
"That's right."
"As long as she's safe and well."
I bent and kissed Nian'an's forehead.
She stirred.
Her little hand closed around my finger.
I smiled.
Once, there had been an unborn child who knew every disaster the world held.
She'd predicted lottery numbers.
Warned of accidents.
Seen death.
Lived again seventeen times.
And told her mother, "You kill me every time."
But at last, when she was truly born, she'd forgotten it all.
She could no longer tell fortunes.
No longer see the future.
No longer carry anyone else's fate.
She was only an ordinary little girl.
She cried when she was hungry.
Laughed when she was held.
Curled her hand around her mother's finger in her sleep.
And that was the greatest miracle I'd ever been given.
I bent and whispered in her ear.
"Nian'an."
"You don't have to save anyone in this life."
"You don't have to remember the painful things."
"Take your time growing up."
"Cry. Laugh. Let yourself be spoiled."
"Whatever kind of person you become…"
"I'll be here."
A breeze passed outside the window.
The wind chime on the balcony rang softly.
Tinkle.
Tinkle.
Nian'an suddenly opened her eyes.
Looked at me.
And smiled.
Then, for the first time, she made a tiny sound.
"Ma…"
I froze.
Beside me, Mom laughed.
"Oh! She's trying to call you Mommy!"
I looked at Nian'an.
Tears slipped out before I knew it.
She smiled again.
"Ma… ma…"
I bent and held her close.
"Yes."
"Mommy's here."
"I've always been here."
— THE END —
Some children come into the world to change fate. Others must pass through countless lives for one ordinary chance to say, "Mommy."
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