Late at night, while she was still checking details, he appeared silently at the door of her workspace. His voice was hoarse and weary: “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”
The orange light from the slightly ajar door cast a strip of warmth over him. Half of his face was hidden in darkness, while the other half was illuminated, revealing only exhaustion.
She replied, “There are still a few things left to finish.”
“Bao Yong, keep me company. Let’s talk for a while.”
If it hadn’t been unbearably painful, he probably wouldn’t have sought her out to talk. Bao Yong was never particularly talkative in front of him, and now she simply listened. Gradually, she came to understand the hidden sorrows of this remarkable man—the childhood sweetheart he married, a seemingly perfect union that was shattered with the birth of Xiao Jin.
“We resented each other, blamed one another, convinced ourselves it was the other’s fault that Xiao Jin had to suffer so much. Neither of our families had any history of heart disease, but in the end, she broke down. She left our child and me, filing for divorce, saying she couldn’t take it anymore. The doctors said Xiao Jin wouldn’t live past three. I tried everything, consulted the world’s top cardiac specialists, but after thorough evaluations, they confirmed a heart transplant was impossible. They said that if we were lucky, she might make it to six…”
His face carried a weary expression. “And then the doctors discovered Xiao Jin had severe autism. I felt like I was falling apart. From the day I was born, I’ve always excelled at everything, always been the best in the world at what I do. So why does my child have so many flaws?”
Bao Yong didn’t offer words of comfort; she simply let him speak. That night, he talked at length, mostly about Xiao Jin—his regrets, his anguish, and the pain he had never shared before. His voice was low and hoarse, murmuring on and on. Bao Yong listened intently, without interrupting.
By dawn, he seemed utterly exhausted and fell asleep on the sofa. Without disturbing him, she went upstairs, fetched a blanket, and gently draped it over him.
At the funeral, Bao Yong met his ex-wife. She was indeed an exceptional woman—standing before the gravestone, her beautiful face pale with grief and sorrow.
Taking it upon herself, Bao Yong arranged for Wang Li and his ex-wife to have some private time together after the funeral. She didn’t know if Wang Li would think she had overstepped, but she believed they needed this moment. After all, they had lost their daughter.
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