Chapter 1: The Fall

Su Yutao felt she might be the unluckiest person in the world.

Bar none.

Oh, wait, there were a few others. One of the most miserable almost got matched with a female pig-man.

Three minutes ago, she had been rushing to the subway.

Not heading back to the dorm. There was nothing to go back for. Her roommates had all gone home for the weekend, leaving her alone in the empty room. She was going back to the orphanage.

It was Friday, and she had promised the kids there that she would come back this week.

Su Yutao had booked a ticket for this Friday.

She worked three part-time jobs and saved some money. She bought snacks and a few picture books for the kids, stuffing them into her backpack until it bulged.

The backpack was a bit heavy, but she carried it steadily.

She still had to walk a bit from the subway exit. As she walked, she thought, Xiao Douzi must have grown taller. Last month during a video call, he had gestured, saying, ‘Sister, I’m almost up to your waist.’

And Xiao Jing, who should be starting elementary school this year. She wondered if they had bought a backpack yet. If not, she could buy one with next month’s salary—

Then she tripped.

More accurately, she was knocked over by a girl running to catch a bus.

That girl, wearing ten-centimeter heels, sprinted at a speed comparable to Bolt. Su Yutao only saw a dark shadow rushing at her, and the next second—the back of her head smacked hard against the curb.

Before passing out, only one thought crossed her mind: ‘f*ck you, you running like you’re rushing to reincarnation!’

…

“Drip.”

“Drip.”

A cold sensation hit her face.

Su Yutao’s first reaction: Is it raining? Where’s the subway station? Where’s my backpack?

Second reaction: My head hurts.

Third reaction—

Wait.

She opened her eyes.

More accurately, she tried to open her eyes.

Her eyelids moved, but she saw nothing.

Not the blackness of closed eyes, but a blackness with open eyes—nothing in front of her.

Su Yutao’s heart tightened suddenly.

She raised her hand to touch her eyes—

Halfway, she froze.

This hand was wrong.

She knew her own hands too well. Growing up in an orphanage, she worked hard, so her hands were rougher than those of other kids her age, but her fingers were still long. Last year, the boss at the milk tea shop she worked at even said, ‘Your hands are quite pretty.’

But the hand now touching her face—

Short, thin, with small knuckles.

There were calluses on the fingertips.

Not the calluses from her manual labor, but different—thicker, harder, as if worn from years of some other activity.

Su Yutao’s mind buzzed.

She forgot about her eyes and felt downwards with both hands. She touched her face—it was smaller. Her neck—thinner. Her shoulders—narrower.

Then she touched her chest.

There was a curve.

Small, but definitely there.

It was the size she was familiar with, but not her body.

This body’s skin was rougher than hers, bones finer, and overall smaller by a size.

Su Yutao’s hands started shaking.

She touched her face again. Eyebrows, nose, lips—all unfamiliar contours.

She opened her mouth, wanting to curse ‘f*ck’—

But her throat moved.

Air rushed up.

Lips parted.

Then—

Nothing.

No sound. None at all.

Su Yutao froze and tried again. She inhaled deeply, pushed the air out forcefully, strained her throat—

Air rushed through her throat and passed between her lips.

But she couldn’t hear her own voice.

Not because it was too noisy, but because her throat simply didn’t produce any sound.

She tried again. Again. Again.

Each time, only the muffled sound of air passing through her windpipe.

Su Yutao knelt in the rain, mouth open, feeling hollow.

She couldn’t speak.

Not a temporary loss of voice, but the kind where you desperately try to shout but your vocal cords simply don’t work.

She was mute.

To be precise, this body was mute.

Raindrops continued to fall.

Hitting her face, hands, body. Clothes soaked through, clinging to skin.

She lowered her head—though she couldn’t see anything—and felt the clothes on her body with these unfamiliar hands.

Coarse cloth.

Not the T-shirt she had been wearing. Very coarse cloth, washed many times until stiff. It felt rough and a bit prickly.

She touched the collar. Knot buttons, cloth-made, some already frayed.

[For those who don’t know, knot buttons are like the buttons on clothes from the grandparents’ generation.]

Her fingers continued downward. The cuffs were frayed. The hem had a bump at the seam—she felt carefully, it was a patch. The stitches were crooked, as if sewn by hand.

She touched her knees. The pants were also coarse cloth, and the knee area was noticeably thicker—also patched.

Su Yutao sat on the ground, rain streaming down her face.

This girl was very poor.

A mute girl so poor she wore patched clothes, and now blind, lying in the rain somewhere unknown.

Su Yutao wanted to cry, but couldn’t. Only air passed through her throat; her eyes were dry and sore.

She opened her mouth, feeling rain pour in and trickle out from the corners.

She thought of her backpack. The picture books were still inside. Xiao Douzi was waiting for her. Where was she now?

She tried to move.

Arms could lift, legs could curl. She could move.

She tried to stand. Pushing against the ground, slowly rising—

Then she realized something.

Her perspective was very low. Very, very low.

She was kneeling, but felt extremely close to the ground. She reached out a hand and touched the ground much closer than she expected.

This body was very short. Maybe 1.4 meters, or 1.5? Definitely not over 1.5.

A short, poor mute.

Su Yutao knelt in the rain, trembling all over.

Cold. Fear. Despair. Longing.

She didn’t know how long she knelt. Maybe a minute, maybe five. The rain kept falling, showing no signs of stopping. She could hear the rain, the sound of raindrops hitting the ground and leaves, and then—

“Ah—!”

A scream.

A woman’s scream. Sharp, shrill, full of terror.

Not far away. So close Su Yutao felt the person was just a few meters away.

Then a second scream.

Shorter than the first, as if suddenly cut off.

Then the muffled thud of a heavy object falling.

Then—

Only the rain.

Su Yutao’s ears perked up, every hair on her body stood on end.

Something happened. Someone was in trouble. Right next to her.

Run.

That was the first thought that popped into her mind.

She had to run. A blind, mute little thing lying here waiting to die was already miserable enough. Did she also have to wait for the murderer to find her and give her a stab too? She didn’t want to be kicked to death like a stray on the roadside.

Run. Run in the opposite direction. Run as far as she could.

Su Yutao pushed off the ground and turned to crawl in the opposite direction.

She couldn’t see, so she frantically reached forward with her hands, moving whenever she touched the ground. Her palms scraped against gravel, painful. Her knees rubbed on the ground, painful. But she didn’t care about that; she just crawled desperately.

Faster. Faster. As far away from that sound as possible—

Then her hand found nothing.

Not flat ground. A slope.

‘f*ck.’