At five years old, Shan Jue heard the price of his sister, Yu Zhen, in the darkness. His mother was discussing the sale of his sister with a stranger. Three-year-old Qian Hui slept soundly in her cradle. His eight-year-old sister pressed her only strawberry hairpin into his hand, its plastic surface still warm with her touch.
"You might not see me anymore after this," her voice trembled. "Qian Sui, hide this well. Let it be me. Think of me, look at it."
The door hinge creaked as it turned.
His sister was taken away.
Two years later, news arrived that his sister had died.
Qian Sui curled his body into the absolute darkness, clutching the hairpin tightly in both hands—this was all that remained of his sister.
And the brother and sister left behind had lost her forever.