Chapter 7 — The Watch of Retribution

In the final year of university, I was awarded the prestigious national scholarship. Ranked first in my department, I was directly admitted to the doctoral program at the nation's premier institution. During the commencement ceremony, I took the stage as the representative of the distinguished graduates to deliver the address.

The spotlight washed over me, casting a glow across thousands of youthful faces seated below. In the front row, I spotted my academic advisor. Her expression radiated pride and joy. Far off in a distant corner, I also caught sight of two familiar figures who had failed to even secure their diplomas. Wang Qian and Zhao Min.

I did not linger on them. My gaze swept past the crowd, fixing upon the very back of the auditorium. My mother and father sat quietly there. Cradled in my mother's arms was a bright bunch of sunflowers. My father’s hair had grown notably grayer than it was three years ago, yet his back remained straight. At the corners of his mouth hovered a smile he could no more conceal.

As my speech concluded, applause thundered through the hall. Stepping down from the stage, I found them already standing. My father took my certificate from my hands, turning it over to inspect it from every angle.

"Good, very good."

He uttered only those two words, yet I watched the corners of his eyes grow red. My mother pressed the bouquet of sunflowers into my arms.

"A-Yun, happy graduation."

Smiling, I accepted the flowers and pulled them into a tight embrace. Emerging from the hall, the sunlight felt slightly dazzling. A gentle breeze swept past, causing the sunflower petals to quiver softly. I drew in a deep breath. Linking my arms through those of my parents, I strode forward into tomorrow.

The phone in my pocket vibrated. I did not bother to check it. The rotting debts of a past lifetime had all been settled cleanly. My present self possessed healthy parents and a luminous future. I had no need for shortcuts doled out by anyone, nor did I require comparison against another soul to prove that I had risen again. Knowing it within myself was enough.

That very night, I drifted into a dream. I dreamed of myself in the former life—standing outside the university gates after being expelled. The heavy iron gates slammed shut behind her. Snowflakes settled upon her hair. She did not weep. She merely stood there, lingering for a long, quiet while.

Then, she raised her head and looked straight toward me. I looked back at her. She looked back at me.

"You made it."

With those words, she turned and walked away, stepping deep into that snowy winter from which there is never any return.

I woke. My pillow was dry. Beyond the window, dawn was breaking. Sitting up, I drew back the curtains. Sunlight flooded in, warm and golden.