In the hazy light of early morning, inside an old seventy-square-meter apartment, Wan Qiu opened his eyes on the single bed in a small room. He glanced at the sky, then lifted his head to look at the alarm clock above him.
There were still ten minutes before the alarm was due to ring. Wan Qiu turned it off.
He folded the bedding and sheets neatly. The battered little desk was spotless, and the stool had been tucked properly beneath it.
Wan Qiu glanced toward the larger bedroom with its door standing open. His mother, Ning Qiaozhen, was still sleeping peacefully inside. She was alone. Dad had not come home again last night.
Wan Qiu quietly closed the bedroom door so he would not disturb her.
After washing up, he opened the old little refrigerator. White light illuminated an interior that was completely empty.
He had reminded Mom yesterday that the refrigerator was empty, but evidently she had not taken it to heart.
Wan Qiu knew very clearly what there was in the house. Right now there was nothing at all he could use to make breakfast.
Wan Qiu returned to his small room. From beneath the bed, among a few bills he had arranged neatly, he took out a worn five-yuan note and left the house with it.
The weather had been bad these past two days, and the wind was rather strong. Even though it was summer, it felt a little cold, so he had worn long sleeves today.
Wan Qiu had not cut his hair for a month since the start of summer vacation. It had grown a little long and was blown into a mess by the wind.
He pulled up his hood, but there was no drawstring to stop it from falling off, so he had to hold it down with one hand.
A discreet black car started moving slowly after Wan Qiu set off, following him from neither too near nor too far behind.
Wan Qiu had brought a crumpled plastic bag with him. As he walked, he checked the trash bins he passed, but unfortunately found nothing.
The weather was too cold. People generally did not throw away drink bottles in weather like this.
Wan Qiu tightened his grip around the five yuan in his pocket. He was going to use the money to buy some ingredients at the morning market and make breakfast before Mom woke up.
Suddenly, the sound of a plastic bottle rolling in the wind caught Wan Qiu's attention.
Across the road, a large iced-tea bottle tumbled along until it struck the curb on the opposite side, then continued sliding.
There were few cars on the one-way street in the old district at this hour. There were no road markings, and almost everyone simply crossed wherever they pleased.
Because of the wind, Wan Qiu did not look around carefully before walking toward the empty drink bottle.
Beep—beep!
A shrill horn sounded beside him together with the sudden screech of brakes. Wan Qiu felt something scrape hard across his arm. His body instinctively twisted away, and he fell backward.
The car stopped. Wan Qiu caught himself with his hands at the edge of the road and stared ahead blankly.
The black car that had been secretly following him stopped as well. Two tall, burly adult men got out.
"Damn it, how did there suddenly have to be an accident?" One of the men rushed to Wan Qiu's side and dropped to one knee, speaking anxiously. "Hey, kid, are you okay? Are you hurt?"
Wan Qiu looked at the man in front of him. Although the man's face looked fierce, his eyes were full of worry.
"How are you feeling?" The man in front of Wan Qiu was exceedingly careful. "Where does it hurt? Are your legs okay? Hey, kid, say something."
When he received no answer from Wan Qiu, the man visibly grew impatient with worry.
Wan Qiu lowered his head and looked at his elbow. The sleeve of his long-sleeved hoodie had been torn open where the car had scraped him, and blood was running down his arm.
The palm he had braced against the ground was scraped as well, and his wrist hurt.
"You're bleeding. Damn it. Don't move around. I'm taking you to the hospital."
The man's panic hardly looked like the reaction one would have toward a stranger. He suddenly scooped Wan Qiu up sideways, lifting him as easily as if he were holding a feather.
Wan Qiu was placed in the front passenger seat. When the man tried to fasten his seat belt, Wan Qiu finally reacted and pushed against him.
There was little strength behind it, but the man stopped.
"I'm fine." Wan Qiu's young voice had not yet gone through puberty and was hard to identify as masculine or feminine, but it was very calm. "It's a small injury."
"You're bleeding. How is that a small injury?" The man stared at Wan Qiu's sleeve, already soaked red with blood.
Wan Qiu shook his head and covered the wound directly with his hand. "Something like this will stop bleeding soon."
Something like this? The man frowned. There was something unsettling about those words. Did this child get hurt so often that an injury like this did not even matter to him?
"It's filthy here. The roadside is covered in grease left by the food stalls. If the wound gets infected, it'll be trouble." The fierce-looking man pulled Wan Qiu's hand away. When his fingers circled that thin wrist, so fragile it looked as though it could snap with a twist, he frowned almost imperceptibly.
"I don't have money." Wan Qiu refused firmly, then thought for a moment and added, "Mom doesn't have money either."
"I'll pay. You need to go to the hospital now," the man said.
"I don't know you." Wan Qiu tried to get out of the passenger seat, but his frail, underdeveloped body could not possibly compete with an adult man.
"If you don't trust me, I can call emergency services for you and have an ambulance pick you up," the man said directly.
Wan Qiu suddenly hesitated. Did calling emergency services cost money?
He had no money.
While Wan Qiu was still hesitating, however, the car had already started moving.
The other man, who had yellow hair, had gone straight for the driver involved in the accident. Irritably, he yanked open the car door. "How the fuck do you drive? You drive down a one-way street this narrow and don't even watch for people? What if you'd seriously hurt him? Fuck—"
The person responsible was a thin taxi driver. Under the furious scolding of the tall, muscular yellow-haired man, he stammered in panic and fear, "I… I didn't…"
Seeing that his companion had already carried Wan Qiu into the front passenger seat and was preparing to take him to the hospital, the yellow-haired man immediately climbed into the taxi's passenger seat.
"You come with me. Follow that car up ahead!" the other man ordered, roaring fiercely at the taxi driver before muttering a furious curse under his breath. "We're dead. If that really is the boss's son, then we…"
The yellow-haired man dialed a number. Someone answered quickly. "Hello?"
"Boss, that child was in a car accident. It looks a little serious. We're taking him to the hospital now." The yellow-haired man's naturally aggressive voice became far more respectful once the call connected. "Mm, yes. A minor accident. It looks like he only has some light injuries… Are you coming over?… Understood. I'll send you the address…"
The taxi driver listened to the yellow-haired man. Although he had no idea what the "boss" on the other end of the phone was saying, one look at the man's angry, regretful expression told him instinctively that this little accident might have caused enormous trouble.
