Chapter 5 — Someone Else's WiFi Password

Her wet hair clung tightly to her scalp, her eyes shut tightly, and her small hand was clenched into a fist. Mother Jiang stepped out of the delivery room, gently taking the newborn into her arms. She lowered her head to gaze at the infant for a long, quiet moment, before finally looking up with moistened eyes and whispering, "This child has such strong and sturdy limbs."

On the day of discharge from the hospital, she drove over to pick us up. Sitting in the back seat cradling the baby, she softly suggested, "Let's call her An An for her nickname, using the character for peace through the passing years."

Leaning back against the seat, I replied, "Yes."

Throughout the traditional month of postpartum confinement, Mother Jiang took complete charge of every trivial household chore. All day long, she hovered around the kitchen, simmering nourishing broths, cooking rice porridges, and washing diapers. Whenever I lay in bed nursing the baby, she would routinely peek her head through the cracked door to ask what I fancied eating that day. I would always tell her anything was fine, whatever she made, I would gladly eat. Inside her arms, little An An would open her tiny, toothless mouth and let out a soft yawn.

When the maternity leave finally ended, I resumed my career as a freelance illustrator, taking on several long-term illustration contracts for various magazines. It naturally followed that Mother Jiang moved in to live with us, helping me look after the baby during the day.

At dusk, after finishing my final sketch, I closed my laptop and walked out of the study. The sliding kitchen door was left half open, a pot of soup was bubbling softly on the stove with rising wisps of steam, and Mother Jiang was bent over slicing green onions. On the living room rug, An An sat safely inside her playpen, holding a pink rattle in her tiny hands, babbling happily to herself. The fading rays of the setting sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, casting a layer of warm, golden light across the entire room.

I leaned against the doorframe, quietly watching this scene unfold before me. There were no longer any of the anxieties and insecurities I used to harbor, nor any of those calculated, deceptive words weighed against gains and losses. Having completely broken free from the shackles of that emotional entanglement, I embraced a profound and total independence, both in spirit and in sustenance. The vibrant, comforting warmth of ordinary human life right before my eyes, coupled with the crisp, cheerful chiming of the rattle, formed the true sanctuary I had yearned for all my life.