Chapter 5 — My Daughter's Iron Box

They said the garment workshop was short-handed, "offering full room and board."

The world went black before Shen Zhiqiang's eyes.

"Do you remember the license plate?"

The proprietorship shook her head.

"I only remember there was a red safety amulet pasted on the car window."

Shen Zhiqiang immediately called the police. The duty officer listened, tone turning serious. A minor running away from home, suspected of being taken for illegal labor--a case could be filed for coordinated investigation. After giving the details, Shen Zhiqiang sat before the restaurant entrance. Clutched in his arms was Anan's schoolbook. Tucked between the pages was a small slip of paper. When he flipped it open, his entire body stiffened. It was a duplicate copy of the financial aid scholarship application. The parent signature line was left blank. Beside it, written in pencil, was a single sentence: If Dad won't sign it, then forget it. Shen Zhiqiang pressed the paper against his forehead. A single tear fell, blurring the pencil strokes. At that moment, the telephone rang again. This time, it was the landline from home. He answered. From the other end came Jiahao's panicked voice.

"Uncle, Mom told me to say that big sister Anan took the money."

But the money is inside big sister's desk drawer.

"Mom just told me to clean out big sister Anan's room."

Shen Zhiqiang gripped the phone tightly, his expression gradually darkening.

"What is your mother doing right now?"

Jiahao's voice was very small.

"Mom is out on the balcony."

"Mom said big sister Anan isn't coming back anyway."

Keeping all those old, worn-out things brings bad luck.

Shen Zhiqiang stood up abruptly. The restaurant owner called out from behind him.

If you find the child, remember to let me know.

Shen Zhiqiang turned back to offer a word of thanks, then drove furiously toward home. All along the way, his mind was filled with images of Anan's tiny room out on the balcony. That room caught the drafting winter winds. In summer, it was as hot as a steam cooker. Whenever he passed by it in the past, he had always felt that since the girl did not make a fuss and did not cry, she could be considered obedient. Only now did he understand: no fuss and no crying did not mean there was no pain. It meant she had hurt for too long, and no one had listened. When he reached home, the door was unlocked. In the middle of the living room sat two black trash bags. Meiqin was stuffing Anan's old school uniform into a bag. Seeing him return, she was startled at first, then raised her voice.

So you still know how to come home?

Jiahao's registration fees still haven't been sorted out yet.

Shen Zhiqiang did not look at her. He walked over to the trash bags, squatted down, and pulled each item out from within. The old uniform. A broken pencil case. Several award certificates wrinkled by rain water. And a small alarm clock with a cracked edge. Meiqin frowned.

"What are you fishing these piles of garbage out for?"

Shen Zhiqiang raised his head to look at her.

These are my daughter's belongings.

Meiqin was blinded by the look in his eyes.

"I didn't throw away anything valuable anyway."

Besides, she left of her own accord; who knows when she'll ever come back.

Shen Zhiqiang stood up.

"Where is that twelve thousand?"

Meiqin's expression changed.

"What twelve thousand?"

Jiahao poked his head out from the bedroom door. Meiqin glared fiercely at the boy. Shen Zhiqiang walked straight into the master bedroom and pulled open Meiqin's vanity drawer. At the very bottom, pinned beneath everything, was an envelope. Inside, twelve thousand was neatly stacked. Beside it lay a receipt from the tutoring center. The date on the receipt was yesterday. But the person who paid was not Jiahao. It was Meiqin herself. Shen Zhiqiang held up the receipt.

"What kind of class did you sign up for?"

Meiqin gritted her teeth.

That's a body-shaping class I signed myself up for.

"I've managed this household for all these years, so what if I spend a little money?"

Shen Zhiqiang let out a laugh. That laughter held not a shred of warmth.

It's fine for you to spend money.

But why did you frame Anan for stealing?

Meiqin immediately raised her voice.

Wasn't I just worried sick?

She ran away from home, she was never sensible to begin with.

If she hadn't left, would I have misunderstood her?

Shen Zhiqiang stepped closer, stride by stride.

She had a gastric hemorrhage and severe anemia.

Ten days ago she was in the hospital, and the doctor called me six times.

"Did you know about that?"

Meiqin's gaze evaded him.

"How would I know?"

Shen Zhiqiang stared fixedly at her.

Then the private class group chat--how did you know?

Meiqin pressed her lips tightly together.

"I just said it off the top of my head."

"Are you starting to cross-examine me now because of that little wretch?"

Shen Zhiqiang's voice dropped low.

That little wretch is my own flesh and blood.

Her mother entrusted her to me before closing her eyes for the last time.

"I promised that I would raise her properly."

Meiqin gave a cold laugh.

Her mother has been dead for how many years now?

"What kind of good father are you pretending to be now?"

These words struck like a heavy slap directly across Shen Zhiqiang's face. He did not refute her. Because Meiqin had struck the most awkward truth. He truly had not been a good father. But that did not mean he could continue down the path of error. He turned and walked into the small room by the balcony. The room was utterly empty. The bed planks were extremely thin. The quilt was folded neatly. The desk top had been wiped clean, leaving behind only a faint pencil mark. Thirty thousand--Jiahao's tuition fees.