At the bus station, Lin Degang's voice rose above the crowd.
"Officer Han! Captain Han!"
Han Yuzhe turned his head, his expression calm as stone, his eyes clear and cold like stars before dawn.
Degang gripped his hand tightly. "She's my little sister," he said hoarsely. "We've wronged her enough already. Treat her well, you hear? If you don't–"
Yuzhe gave a faint nod, glancing once at his watch, then at the surging line of passengers.
The bus engine rumbled impatiently, but he didn't pull away. He stood there, listening without a word.
Before Degang could finish, a panicked cry pierced the noise.
"Zhaodi! Where's my Zhaodi?"
For a heartbeat, Qingya's stomach dropped. She clutched her son tighter to her chest, only relaxing when she felt the boy's small arms circle her waist.
At the same time, Han Yuzhe broke from the crowd, cutting through with long stride. He lifted a sobbing little girl into his arms and called out, "Comrade! Is this your child?"
A pregnant woman stumbled forward. "You wicked girl!" She shouted, smacking the child's cheek. "Didn't I tell you to hold your sisters' hands?!"
Two smaller girls clung to her skirt, terrified. The one who'd been slapped didn't dare cry; she only bowed her head and held her sisters close.
Then a man dashed over, grabbing the pregnant woman by the arm. "Hurry! The birth-control officers are coming!"
Panic spread like wildfire. The woman, the man, and the three children scrambled onto the departing bus, faces pale.
Before Qingya could react, Han Yuzhe's hands closed around her arm and Lim Chen's. He pulled them aboard with a wave to Lin Degang in one smooth motion just as a group of officials burst through the gate, shouting through the megaphones for the driver to stop.
"Go! Drive!" Passengers screamed. The driver honked, pushed the gear, and the bus lurched forward, jolting past the uniformed men.
The red slogans painted on the station wall blurred into streaks of color behind them.
The bus was packed so tightly there was barely air to breathe. The summer heat baked through the metal roof, sweat and gasoline thick in the air.
Han Yuzhe stood behind Qingya, steady as a wall. His body carried a strange, coop aura despite the stifling heat. When her wrist brushed his, the touch made her shiver.
She glanced at the rows of seated passengers. "He really didn't but tickets with seats?" she thought helplessly. Second marriage or not, couldn't the man be a little more generous?
Poor Han Yunzhe being blamed for something totally not his fault.
The road to Xiping City was long. Three hundred kilometres of dust, bumps, and narrow lanes. At this speed, it would take six hours, maybe more.
By the second hour, a child began to cry; by the third, another passenger vomited into a plastic bag. The smell was suffocating.
Lim Chen squeezed between his mother's arms, peeked timidly at Han Yuzhe. His face was unreadable, his jaw set. He looked nothing like his old father, who smiled at everyone but kicked him and his mom when he was drunk.
Still, he was frightened of this new one. He for sure didn't look like someone who would easily smile.
When the bus jolted over a pothole, Yuzhe leaned slight forward and asked the man with the pregnant wife, "Comrade, do your tickets include seats?"
The man looked defensive. "Of course! Paid for five of them. Two adult seats and one for the kids. Seated at thirty-eight, standing seventeen. You stand, you stand, who told you to be late?"
Without another word, Han Yuzhe pulled three tickets from his pocket. "These are ours. I'll take the refund at the next station."
The woman gasped, flustered. "No, no, please sit! You've got a child too!"
But Han Yuzhe simply motioned for them to stay seated and turned to Qingya. "Can you hold the boy? It'll be tight."
She nodded. Just as she was settling down, the man suddenly barked at his daughters, "You three! Get up! Let your father sit!"
The Little girls stood without protest, eyes lowered.
A large hand fell on the man's shoulder. Yuzhe's voice was calm but firm. "Comrade, uncomfortable standing?"
The man froze, then noticed the golden police badge glinting on Yuzhe's belt. His attitude changed instantly. "Officer, standing is fine. Standing builds character."
A ripple of laughter moved through the bus.
Qingya exhaled slowly, letting the hot wind from the window cool her face. Little Chen, still shy, peeked up at Yuzhe again. When their eyes met, he quickly ducked his head.
...
Six long hours later, the bus rumbled into Xiling city. The streets buzzed with bicycles and honking cars.
Before they got off, Han Yuzhe clasped the shoulder of the man with daughters.
"Keep them in school," he said quietly. "If you raise them right, they'll earn more that any son you are hoping for ever could."
The man blinked. Then, as if something had cracked open in his mind, he nodded hard.
He took his wife's hand and led their three children away, shouting, "Zhaodi, Yiddish, Tuodi, we're going home!"