Chapter 7: The Weight of a Promise

Her back ached with a fiery sting. Even the lightest touch sent excruciating pain through her. Recalling the day’s events, Hao Yang felt a surge of injustice, wanting to cry. It was clearly that scrap dealer who had been unreasonable, yet she was the one who got beaten, powerless to do anything about it.

‘You’ll only ever collect trash in this life. You deserve to collect trash for all eternity.’

Hao Yang silently cursed the old man in her heart.

Now, she longed for home, for her mother and father. The more she thought of them, the more aggrieved she felt.

Perhaps it was due to this body, but Hao Yang’s thoughts had become considerably more childish. Soon, she found herself hugging her knees on the roadside, openly weeping.

The snow intensified. Hao Yang, exhausted from crying, slowly drifted towards sleep. Just then, she felt a sudden warmth beside her hand.

Hao Yang groggily opened her eyes to see a furry head resting by her side—a small dog.

The little dog continuously nudged her hand with its head, then affectionately licked it.

This remarkably friendly puppy brought a rare flicker of warmth to Hao Yang’s heart.

“Little dog, do you not have a home either?” Hao Yang murmured, stroking its head. The puppy barked a few times, as if in response.

“Little dog, are you hungry?”

No sooner had Hao Yang spoken than the puppy began barking repeatedly.

Seeing this, Hao Yang pulled out the last remaining steamed bun from her pocket. The bun was cold and had grown somewhat hard with time, no longer fresh from the steamer.

Yet, upon seeing the bun, the little dog’s tail wagged furiously with excitement. Its eyes fixed intently on the food, refusing to look away.

Hao Yang tore open the plastic bag, took out the bun, and tossed it to the side of the road. The puppy excitedly dashed over, snatched the bun, and began to gnaw on it.

Only then did Hao Yang get a good look at the dog. Its breed was indiscernible. Its fur was entirely white, yet appeared somewhat darkened, suggesting it had likely never been bathed.

It seemed to be a puppy; its teeth hadn’t hardened, nor its claws grown long. It struggled for quite a while just to bite into the steamed bun.

Hao Yang glanced at the sky. Winter days were generally dark and gloomy. Only at dawn and dusk was there a noticeable difference in light.

She surveyed her surroundings. Few people remained, indicating evening was approaching. Ironically, there might be more people out later, as many children would emerge to set off firecrackers, given that these days were part of the Spring Festival.

The dog trotted back, sitting down obediently. It seemed remarkably well-behaved.

The previous bun had been entirely devoured. It appeared the puppy was eager for more food.

“Don’t worry, little dog, I think I have another hard bun. I recall putting it in my backpack…” As Hao Yang spoke to the dog, she suddenly realized her backpack hadn’t been with her all day. No wonder she felt something was missing.

After careful recollection, if her memory served, the backpack was still in the cabinet where she had slept yesterday.

That bag contained 30 yuan and a crucial photograph. The photograph was especially important; it was her promise to the little girl, the only clue to finding the girl’s mother, and she couldn’t afford to lose it.

But there was someone else there: a homeless man. His massive build filled Hao Yang with dread just looking at him.

Moreover, homeless people in China were often mentally ill. Hao Yang had once witnessed a homeless man violently assaulting someone.

A child had provoked him, and being mentally unstable, the man had struck out without regard for the consequences, nearly beating the mischievous boy to death.

The boy had been so brutally beaten that Hao Yang still remembered his horrific state. The incident had profoundly affected her, causing her to deliberately keep her distance from anyone she saw under bridge tunnels or lying on the ground.

‘I wonder if that homeless man is also mentally ill?’ she pondered. ‘If I go there and he mistakes me for a thief, will he beat me to death? But perhaps he’s already moved on.’

Yet, if she didn’t go back for it, the only clue to finding the little girl’s mother would be lost. Her vow to the little girl was no small matter; it wasn’t just a verbal promise.

This commitment felt as though it had been seared into her very soul, giving her a constant urge to fulfill it.

‘No, I promised that little girl. I must fulfill this commitment.’

‘I have to retrieve my backpack, even if it means facing danger.’

Having made up her mind, Hao Yang mounted the children’s bicycle she had left by the roadside. She suddenly noticed the little dog was still following her, as if it intended to stick to her.

“Little dog, don’t follow me. I can barely feed myself. You should find another owner.”

With those words, Hao Yang cycled away at top speed, shaking off the dog. Seeing that the dog wasn’t chasing her, Hao Yang’s cycling pace suddenly slowed considerably.

Arriving near the residential building slated for demolition, Hao Yang stashed her children’s bicycle in a small grove of trees. She leaned it against a tree.

Just as Hao Yang was about to leave, she noticed a knife-carved mark on the tree. Touching the mark, she found it felt quite new, as if someone had carved it there in the past few days.

Hao Yang didn’t dwell on it, cautiously making her way towards the condemned residential building. Upon reaching the first floor, she again confirmed no one was around.

Then, at the foot of the stairs, she strained her ears, listening for any sounds from the second floor. There was complete silence upstairs. The homeless man was likely absent or had already moved.

Hao Yang glanced at the horizon; the sky was once again showing signs of darkening. Winter nights descended rapidly, becoming fully dark within two hours at most.

If Hao Yang didn’t leave this place within that time, she would have no choice but to spend the night there. After dark, this area, being on the outskirts, offered no streetlights, rendering her utterly blind.

Navigating in complete darkness was far too dangerous, risking an accident. It would be best to retrieve her belongings and leave promptly, without lingering.

Hao Yang listened intently once more. Only after confirming there truly was no one did she tiptoe cautiously upstairs.