The morning began with birds chirping, not too early. Leaves swayed under the light morning breeze, and the rising sun cast a warm glow over the broken courtyard.
A young man crouched on the old doorstep, glancing toward the alley corner every so often before turning back to the stick in his hand. He tapped it lightly against the stone, his ears perked up, listening for any sound.
His name was Wei Lin.
He wasn't playing. He was waiting.
His fingers tightened around the stick as the alley remained quiet. His thoughts grew more nervous with each passing moment.
Just as he dropped the stick and stood up, rushed footsteps echoed through the corridor, followed by heavy breathing.
Finally, a woman appeared.
She wore a pale blue brocade robe—beautiful, though worn thin from years of patching and washing. Her face was pale from running, but she was smiling. Waving at him.
His sister.
After a few days of medication, her condition had finally improved. She was still weak, but she was awake. She was here.
Wei Lin's eyes lit up.
---
She had woken him earlier that morning, he remembered. She told him a kind rich lady named Madam Yan needed help, and had sent an attendant for safety to escort her. He had watched her leave, still half-asleep.
When he woke fully and couldn't find her, his heart had nearly stopped. But he remembered her words. She had to leave early.
He forced himself to calm down.
He went to the kitchen, climbed onto a stool, and retrieved two dumplings with vegetable filling. He ate them slowly. The remaining two he left for his sister, for when she returned.
Then he sat outside to wait.
---
The neighbors had warned their children not to play with him ever since his parents died. Most days, he was alone. And when the other kids did find him, they called him unlucky. They said he deserved to be an orphan because he caused his parents' death.
Wei Lin knew those were the words of adults, said behind closed doors. So he had no good opinion of anyone except his sister.
As the hours passed, worry crept in. She had barely recovered, and already she was working.
He frowned.
"I need to find a way to earn silver," he thought. "So, she won't have to work all the time."
He remembered the silver coins the hooded stranger had given him. Eight taels remained. It was enough to start something. He just didn't know what yet.
---
His sister rushed toward him, and he ran into her arms, burying his face in her shoulder. He felt her heartbeat—fast, but steady. He breathed.
She stumbled back a half-step from his momentum, then steadied herself. Her hand came up and gently patted his head.
"Jie jie is here," she said softly. "Tell me what happened."
She glanced around the alley, her expression hardening.
"Did those children come here again? Tell me. I'll go talk to their parents right now."
But everything seemed normal. The little courtyard was quiet. And her brother—young man now, she reminded herself—was clean and unharmed.
Wei Lin shook his head and pressed deeper into her embrace.
After a long moment, he wiggled free. She let him go and leaned down slightly, though she was clearly tired.
He saw her pale face up close. He grabbed her wrist and motioned for her to go inside.
She pinched his cheek.
"So young," she teased, "and already taking care of your Jie jie."
He blushed and turned away, but he didn't let go of her wrist. He guided her inside their small, broken, but clean courtyard.
She smiled, watching his back.
Something flickered in her eyes—sadness, brief and well-hidden—before it disappeared.
"He's grown so much," she thought. "When did that happen?"
But she said nothing. She followed him inside.