Sold into a ghost marriage? Four-year-old and his thuggish father go on a killing spree.

Cheng Fulai took Niannian to the bus station and bought two tickets to the town.

A full-price ticket costs 40 cents, and a half-price ticket costs 20 cents. Niannian is under 1.2 meters tall and doesn't need a ticket according to the rules, but Cheng Fulai still bought her a half-price ticket.

"You can only get on the train if you have a ticket; if you don't, they'll kick you off." Cheng Fulai stuffed the palm-sized cardboard ticket into Niannian's hand.

Nian Nian clutched the train ticket tightly, her knuckles turning white.

This was the first time in her life she had ever ridden in a car.

The shuttle bus was an old "Yuejin" brand bus, painted dark green.

Several pieces of window glass were broken and patched up with cardboard and tape.

The engine was deafeningly loud, and the carriage was filled with the smells of diesel fuel and tobacco.

The artificial leather on the seats had long since cracked, revealing the grayish-white cotton underneath.

There weren't many people on the bus. It was the 25th of the twelfth lunar month, and everyone who was supposed to go home had already gone.

Those still out there are either delivering goods or visiting relatives and catching the last bus.

Niannian was carried into the car by Cheng Fulai and sat in the window seat.

As soon as the car started moving, it bounced violently, and Niannian's head kept hitting the window frame.

Cheng Fulai took off his cotton hat and placed it between Niannian's head and the window frame.

"Lean against me and take a nap."

Niannian shook her head.

She didn't want to sleep.

She was afraid that if she fell asleep, she wouldn't wake up.

The darkness inside the coffin, the cold of the snowy night, the blood at the corner of my mother's mouth—all these things rush to my mind the moment I close my eyes.

It swallowed her up like a tide.

But she was too exhausted.

Although her high fever has subsided, her constitution is too weak. At four and a half years old, she has never had a full meal, and after that night of torment, she is only hanging on by a thread.

Less than half an hour into the drive, Niannian's eyelids began to droop.

Her head tilted to the side and rested on Cheng Fulai's arm, her small body curled up like a little kitten.

Cheng Fulai looked down at her.

The little girl's brows were furrowed, her eyelashes trembled slightly, and her lips moved silently in her dream.

Suddenly, she spoke in her sleep.

"Mom...don't go..."

The sound was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, but Cheng Fulai could hear it clearly in the noisy carriage.

His throat moved.

Niannian's little hands were groping around in her sleep, as if she was looking for something.

Cheng Fulai reached out and took Niannian's small hand in his rough, large hand.

Niannian immediately gripped his finger tightly.

Then her brows relaxed a little, and her breathing calmed down.

Cheng Fulai looked at the ridiculously small hand—the nails were flipped open, it was wrapped in gauze, and the knuckles were red and swollen.

These are hands that were pried off the coffin lid.

His eyes stung with tears.

Cheng Fulai thought of his granddaughter.

His son contracted dysentery in the last year of the three years of hardship and did not survive, leaving behind a two-year-old girl.

Cheng Fulai and his wife raised their granddaughter until she was four years old, when a major flood swept her away.

After searching for three days and three nights, I only found one small cloth shoe.

She was a thin, small girl with a pair of bright, dark eyes.

Cheng Fulai sniffed hard and looked up out the window.

Outside the window is the winter landscape of mountains and fields, with withered trees, scorched earth, and a hazy gray sky. The distant mountain ridgeline looks like a frozen ink line.

desolate.

But there is a way.

Where there's a road, there's a way.

He looked down and glanced at the sleeping Niannian again.

This girl is going to find her father.

Gu Yanqiu.

Cheng Fulai certainly knew Gu Yanqiu.

He lived in Chengjiawan for two years in his early years, when he was in charge of the commune's accounts.

I've had quite a few dealings with the Chengjiawan Brigade.

Gu Yanqiu – the second son of the Gu family, a notorious lazybones in Chengjiawan.

His father died early, and his mother raised three sons, but he was the least promising.

The eldest son, Gu Yanchun, became a militia captain in the commune, while the third son, Gu Yandong, learned to be a bricklayer from others.

Only the second son, Gu Yanqiu, wandered around all day, never putting in any real effort when working, and earned the fewest work points in the whole village.

Cheng Fulai recalled one autumn harvest when Gu Yanqiu was caught sleeping on the edge of the field by the team leader, who punished him with three days' work points. Instead of being angry, he said with a grin, "You need to be well-rested to have the energy to work."

Few people in the entire Chengjiawan village respected him.

Then, about six years ago—was it 1958 or 1959? I can't quite remember—

Gu Yanqiu went to the county town to do odd jobs for a while, but it's unclear what he did. After returning, he became even more depressed, staying at home all day and refusing to go out, and refusing to say anything when asked.

The villagers all said that Gu Yanqiu had gotten into some trouble in the city and had been beaten up and sent back.

six years ago……

Cheng Fulai did the math.

This girl is four and a half years old, which is roughly the time when Gu Yanqiu went to the city.

He looked at Niannian's face.

He has delicate features and a well-proportioned appearance.

Unlike Gu Yanqiu.

They seem more like city kids.

Her mother's name is Song Wanqing.

Cheng Fulai had never heard of this name before; he wasn't from Chengjiawan.

So it must be a woman Gu Yanqiu met when he was in the city.

We met, had a child, and then—and then what?

Gu Yanqiu returned to Chengjiawan, but the woman stayed in the city? Or somewhere else?

Now that the woman is dead, the child was sold by the grandmother to be married off in a ghost marriage. The child crawled out of the coffin and ran more than 100 miles to find this father.

This father had no idea he had a daughter.

The more Cheng Fulai thought about it, the more humiliated he felt.

It's not that I feel sorry for Niannian, it's that I feel sorry for Gu Yanqiu.

You're supposed to be a man, don't you know you have a child? You don't care if the woman gives birth and dies?

So lazy he's even abandoned his own flesh and blood.

The bus bumped along the dirt road for more than an hour before arriving at Liuhe Town, a small town in the south of Qinghe County.

Cheng Fulai patted Niannian on the shoulder.

"Girl, wake up, we've arrived at our stop."

Niannian suddenly opened her eyes and sat up straight.

A fleeting look of terror crossed her eyes—the terror of being jolted awake from a nightmare.

But only for a moment.

She quickly looked around, recognized Cheng Fulai and the carriage, and then slowly loosened her clenched fist.

"arrive?"

"We've arrived at Liuhe Town. From here to Chengjiawan, it's still thirty li of mountain road; I'm afraid we won't make it today—"

"I can walk." Niannian's voice was calm, but there was an unyielding stubbornness in her tone. "I'll walk until it gets dark."

Cheng Fulai looked into her stubborn eyes and didn't know what to say.

He hesitated for a moment, then spoke.

"Girl, I have something to tell you, but don't take it to heart."

Niannian looked at him.

"Your father... Gu Yanqiu..." Cheng Fulai carefully chose his words, but being a straightforward person, he finally said it after going around in circles, "He doesn't have a good reputation in Chengjiawan. People say he's a lazy bum, doesn't work, and is unreliable."

He had thought that Nian Nian would be scared or disappointed.

But the little girl's expression didn't change.

She looked down at her fingers, which were wrapped in gauze, and her lips moved slightly.

"My mom told me to find him."

Just this one sentence.

There was no explanation, no rebuttal, no panic.

My mom told me to go find him.

So I went to him.

Cheng Fulai opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing more.

He sighed, took out a cornbread from his pocket, broke it in half, and handed it to Niannian.

"Eat. The mountain road is difficult to walk, you need to be full to have the energy."

Niannian took it, bent down and took a bite.

The cornbread was dry and hard, and it made my throat hurt.

But she ate it all, bite by bite.

There is no bus service from Liuhe Town to Chengjiawan; there is only a winding gravel road that winds its way into the mountain valley.

Cheng Fulai found an acquaintance in town who drove an oxcart and hitched a ride on one of his firewood carts.

The oxcart swayed and rocked, barely faster than walking.

But I never think it's too slow to keep thinking about it.

She sat on the oxcart, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

The mountains are getting higher and higher, and the roads are getting narrower and narrower.

Icicles hung from the cliffs on both sides, glistening in the bleak winter sunlight.

Occasionally, a few grey magpies would fly up from the bare branches and cackle.

Niannian looked at all of this without saying a word.

Cheng Fulai sat next to her without saying a word.

The oxcart creaked and groaned as its wheels rolled over the frozen earth with a dull thud.

As the sun began to set, Nian Nian suddenly spoke.

"Grandpa Cheng."

"Um?"

Why did you help me?

Cheng Fulai didn't expect her to ask this.

He paused for a moment, then quickly replied, "Because I felt sorry for you."

Niannian shook her head: "Aunt Zhao also said she felt sorry for me. Uncle Zhou thought it was too much trouble, but he still took me with him. You also thought it was too much trouble, but you still took me with you."

She looked up at Cheng Fulai's profile.

"Adults always say 'pitiful,' but pitifulness isn't a reason to help someone, right?"

Cheng Fulai stopped.

He turned his head and looked at the four-and-a-half-year-old girl.

Her face still bore the marks of injury, her oversized cotton-padded coat draped over her like a flour sack, and her hair was a mess—but her eyes shone with an astonishing brightness.

Those are not the eyes of a four-year-old child.

Those were eyes prematurely matured by life, eyes that showed premature understanding, eyes that broke one's heart.

"Because..." Cheng Fulai's voice suddenly became rough, like sandpaper grinding, "I used to have a granddaughter. About your age."

He didn't say anything more.

Niannian didn't ask any more questions.

The oxcart continued its journey into the mountains.

The sun slowly sank below the horizon, casting long shadows on the mountains.

Once you cross that ridge, you'll reach Chengjiawan.

Niannian sat up straight, her hands gripping the hem of her clothes tightly.

dad.

It's almost there.