Reborn a day later, I emptied my enemy's possessions beforehand.

Zhou Haibing said, "You don't need to save face for me. Your life is more important than anything else."

But Zhou Haiqing wouldn't listen.

Her thinking was too traditional, to the point of being almost ignorant.

She believed that once a woman got married, she should remain faithful to her husband for life, and she should accept whatever treatment he gave her.

This is a concept she was instilled with from childhood, deeply ingrained and impossible to eradicate.

Later, Zhou Haiqing became pregnant.

Upon hearing the news, Zhou Haiqing smiled—a rare smile, a smile that emanated from the bottom of his heart and carried a hint of hope.

She called Zhou Haibing, and her voice was much lighter than usual.

"Brother, I'm pregnant. I'm going to be a mom."

Zhou Haibing was also happy for her.

He thought that maybe this child could change everything, maybe Zhang Wenbin would treat his sister better for the sake of the child, and maybe this child could help his sister gain a foothold in this family.

He was wrong.

Zhang Wenbin not only didn't treat Zhou Haiqing well, but he became even more abusive.

He went around telling people that Zhou Haiqing wasn't carrying his child, but someone else's.

He said he had hardly ever touched Zhou Haiqing in his life, so how could she be pregnant?

She must have cheated on him with someone else, gotten pregnant with his child, and is trying to frame him.

These words reached Zhou Haiqing's ears.

That evening, Zhou Haibing received a phone call from his sister.

On the other end of the phone, Zhou Haiqing's voice was unusually calm, so calm it sent chills down one's spine:

"Brother, Zhang Wenbin said the child isn't his."

Zhou Haibing said, "Don't listen to his nonsense. What evidence does he have? Don't take things without evidence to heart."

Zhou Haiqing said, "Brother, I have never done anything to wrong him. This child is his."

Zhou Haibing said, "I know, of course I know."

Zhou Haiqing remained silent for a long time on the other end of the phone, then softly said, "Brother, I'm so tired."

When Zhou Haibing heard these words, he felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart.

The next day, he drove to Zhang Wenbin's house to pick up his sister.

But once they got there, Zhou Haiqing refused to leave. She said she couldn't leave, because leaving would prove Zhang Wenbin was right, and leaving would make her truly unclean.

Zhou Haibing couldn't persuade her otherwise.

What happened next was a nightmare that Zhou Haibing never wanted to recall.

That evening, Zhou Haibing was watching TV at home when his phone suddenly rang.

He answered the phone and heard his sister's faint voice, barely audible, like the buzzing of a mosquito.

"Brother...save me...I'm bleeding so much..."

Zhou Haibing's mind went blank.

He asked, "What's wrong? Where are you?"

Zhou Haiqing's voice was broken and intermittent, each word sounding as if he were using all his strength:

"Zhang Wenbin... is drunk... pushed me... I can't get up... my stomach hurts so much... brother, come quick..."

Zhou Haibing called for an ambulance while rushing out of his house.

He ran three red lights while driving, and the journey that usually takes forty minutes he completed in less than twenty minutes.

When he burst through Zhang Wenbin's front door and rushed into the living room, he saw a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life.

Zhou Haiqing lay on the living room floor, with a large pool of blood beneath him.

Her face was as white as paper, her lips were bloodless, her eyes were half-open, and she was still clutching her phone in her hand.

Her nightgown was soaked in blood, which trickled down the floorboards, forming a thin line.

On the coffee table was a bottle of baijiu that was mostly empty, and next to it was a tilted wine glass.

Zhang Wenbin had already gone back to his bedroom sometime earlier, and his deafening snoring could be heard from upstairs.

Zhou Haibing squatted down and hugged his younger sister, feeling that her body was ice-cold, as if it was slowly losing its temperature.

He called her name, and she slightly opened her eyes. When she saw it was him, her lips twitched, and she forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Brother...you're here..."

"Don't speak, don't speak, the ambulance is coming soon."

Zhou Haibing's voice trembled, and tears streamed down his face, one drop at a time, onto his sister's face.

The ambulance arrived, and the doctor lifted Zhou Haiqing into the vehicle.

Zhou Haibing followed her into the ambulance, holding her sister's hand the whole way, feeling her increasingly weak pulse.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Zhou Haiqing was wheeled into the operating room.

Zhou Haibing waited outside the operating room for more than three hours.

Those three hours were the longest three hours of his life.

He sat on the cold plastic chair, his hands clasped together, his knuckles white from gripping them so tightly.

Nurses occasionally walked by in the corridor, the sound of their high heels echoing in the empty space, each sound like a blow to his heart.

At 2 a.m., the operating room door opened.

The doctor came out, took off his mask, looked at him, and shook his head.

"The baby didn't survive. The mother survived, but... it may be very difficult for her to get pregnant again."

Zhou Haibing leaned against the wall, feeling as if all the energy had been drained from him, and slowly slid down.

Zhou Haiqing stayed in the hospital for more than 20 days, and Zhou Haibing visited her every day.

Her face was always pale, her eyes were always red and swollen, and she spoke less and less. Sometimes Zhou Haibing would sit by her bedside for an hour, and she would say no more than three sentences.

Zhang Wenbin came once; Zhou Haibing called him and asked him to come.

When he arrived at the hospital, he was wearing a floral shirt, his hair was styled with hair gel, and he smelled of alcohol; he clearly had just come from a drinking party.

Without saying a word, Zhou Haibing punched him in the face.

Zhang Wenbin was beaten so badly that he fell to the ground, his nose bleeding profusely.

He wiped the blood from his face, looked at Zhou Haibing, and even had a slight smile on his lips:

"Brother, hitting me won't help. We never even knew who the father of the child was anyway, so it's better that it's gone."

Zhou Haibing kicked him in the chest, sending him rolling twice on the ground.

Zhou Haiqing sat up in bed and called out "Brother," his voice trembling with tears.

Zhou Haibing stopped.

He glanced at his sister, then at Zhang Wenbin on the ground. It felt like a volcano was erupting inside him, but he forcefully suppressed the magma.

He couldn't hit someone in front of his sister, and he couldn't let her see such a scene.

Zhang Wenbin got up from the ground, dusted off his clothes, glanced at Zhou Haiqing, and said the words that Zhou Haibing would never forget for the rest of his life:

"It's better that the bastard is gone."

Zhou Haibing tried to rush forward again, but Zhou Haiqing grabbed his sleeve.

He looked down at his sister, whose eyes were full of tears, but her expression was not one of anger or sadness, but rather an indescribable, utter, and desperate numbness.

"Brother, forget it," she said.

Zhou Haibing didn't calculate it.

He made a mental note about Zhang Wenbin, and he still remembers it to this day.

Zhou Haiqing's health has not fully recovered since being discharged from the hospital.

The doctor said her uterus was severely damaged and her chances of getting pregnant again were extremely slim.

This news was a devastating blow to Zhou Haiqing.

She had always wanted a child, believing that having a child would give her a place in the Zhang family and make Zhang Wenbin treat her better.

Now, even that thought is gone.