The first thing was still to put on gloves, then pour the feces collected in a plastic bag the previous day into a wide-mouthed glass jar, add water, and mash it with a wooden stick. That familiar smell spread out again. In the first few days, Susan Wright still tried hard to hold her breath, feeling nauseous and dizzy, but now she could breathe as usual, not even frowning. Old Madam Grey, sitting upright in the front room, continued knitting her sweater without any reaction, completely unconcerned about where the stench in her house was coming from. Although the old street was like a maze so big you could never get out, the only place where Susan Wright could do such a strange thing without being disturbed or discovered was Old Madam Grey's house. Susan Wright came every day, so the smell lingered in the house for a long time. Even if a neighbor occasionally caught a whiff, they wouldn't find it strange—after all, it was Old Madam Grey's house, that's normal. On the contrary, they admired and liked little Susan even more.

Once the feces were mashed into a slurry and became a murky liquid, Susan Wright covered the mouth of the jar with three layers of gauze and filtered the fecal liquid into another jar, repeating this several times until the residue was filtered out and there was almost no sediment left. This yellowish-white murky liquid would be mixed into the porridge that night and eaten once again by the stray cats and dogs on the old street, repeating the cycle.

After finishing everything, Susan Wright washed the gloves clean in Old Madam Grey's sink, wiped them dry with a cloth, and packed everything into a cloth bag. As she was about to leave, she noticed that Old Madam Grey's meal was still untouched. Susan Wright realized she had forgotten to give her chopsticks, so she took a pair from the chopstick holder and placed them on the bowl.

“Old Madam Grey, I'm leaving now. Remember to eat, okay?”

As she closed the door, Susan Wright felt that Old Madam Grey was watching her.

She put the cloth bag in a hidden spot by her own front door, and just as she was about to go inside, Susan Wright heard half a sentence from inside the house.

“She doesn't need it. Just take care of yourself.”

It was Dad, talking to someone. The tone sounded like he was speaking to her older sister. Wasn't she supposed to be at tutoring? Did it end so early?

Susan Wright stopped and listened carefully.

“My grades have always been better than hers. I should be able to get into college, but lately her mood seems a bit off, and she's been distracted from her studies, Dad…”

“No money to send her. As long as you get in, that's enough.”

“If I get in, I can work part-time and save up a bit, Dad, is that okay? My little sister is smarter than me. If she goes to college, she'll definitely have a bright future. All these years, she's been especially attentive to Mom. All those books she's been reading are about medicine. The one she's reading now is 'Infectious Diseases,' right? She told me she wants to study medicine, wants to cure Mom.”

“She is smarter than you. I'm just afraid she's too smart.”

“Dad… I mean… what if, what if I don't get in?”

Susan Wright started to feel a bit nervous.

However, the house fell silent. She didn't hear any reply.

Later, she imagined countless times what the atmosphere was like in that silence, what the expressions of the two people were, what kind of look her father gave her sister.

Many things in this world have no answer.

Susan Wright waited outside for a while before going in. Inside, father and daughter looked as usual.

At dinner, Susan Wright glanced at her sister several times. Shirley Wright smiled at her, and she quickly looked away as if startled.

After dinner, after helping Mom eat and tidying up, Susan Wright took her xiao and sat at the doorway.

She had memorized the score for "Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute" and wanted to try playing a few bars. For some reason, in this moment and setting, she really wanted to hear the xiao's plaintive sound.

She tried playing a few notes when Adrian Wright came out. He was heading out to drive the night shift.

“So noisy.” He said to Susan Wright, “Stop playing. Your sister is studying. Don't disturb her, you hear me!”

“Yes, Dad. Sorry, Dad.” She looked up, wanting to show Adrian Wright a smile, but only saw his hurriedly departing back.

3

In this world, going to college isn't the only path, nor is it the only standard. Truly outstanding people can forge their own way, not just follow the path arranged by others. There have only been universities in China for so many years—what about before that? Daphne Morgan, talent is your own, but education is not entirely fair.

Shirley Wright sighed and crumpled up the half-written letter again. She had written this letter several times but still couldn't finish it. Even she didn't believe the words of comfort she wrote, so how could she convince her sister? Before there were universities in China, it was ten years of hard study for the imperial exams, the same narrow path as always. Besides, such direct advice would be a bit too strange.

Shirley Wright left the classroom and went out to the playground for some air. A few boys, shirtless and sweating, were playing basketball. After the weekend, it would be the final exams, and after summer break, it would be senior year. At this time, those still spending time on basketball probably didn't have much hope for getting into college. College was for the few, especially at this school. William Williams was standing nearby, watching intently with his bicycle. He loved playing basketball, but at this time of year, he could only watch.

Unconsciously, Shirley Wright walked over to William Williams. She was wearing a white dress, moving like a lotus flower, so William Williams had noticed her early on. But he didn't stare at Shirley Wright; only the local street punks looked at women that way. He kept watching the basketball game, and when Shirley Wright got closer, he nodded at her in a manly way. So Shirley Wright walked a bit closer.

“What university are you planning to apply to?”

“Why are you suddenly asking that?”

“Haven't you thought about it?”

“There's still time to think about it.”

William Williams's grades were better than Shirley Wright's; he was a top student. In Shirley Wright's mind, he was naturally a future college student, but his reaction now was a bit odd.

“Maybe, it depends on my family's situation.” William Williams added.

Shirley Wright understood—he was talking about tuition. William Williams's family situation was no better than the Wen family's, maybe even worse. After all, Adrian Wright could earn a decent income driving a taxi.

“If you don't go to college, what would you do?”

Shirley Wright wanted to hear his thoughts; maybe then she could write the letter to Daphne Morgan.

“Well, I have to go. I mean, if things are tight at home, at most I'll work part-time and study, save up for another year.”

Shirley Wright was stunned, but thinking about it, it was only natural. At that moment, William Williams looked to the other side, where a pair of eyes very similar to Shirley Wright's were watching them.

Shirley Wright noticed her sister too, so she stopped talking to William Williams and turned back to the classroom.

Of course, Susan Wright recognized William Williams. For a while, he and her sister had been especially close. Ever since she reported them to Dad, the two seemed to have become much more cautious.

The next afternoon, just after lunch and after feeding Beatrice Collins, Adrian Wright went out to drive again, leaving the two daughters at home. Shirley Wright was reviewing for the upcoming finals, and Susan Wright, a year younger and also facing exams, went out to buy a bottle of Coke, poured two glasses, and handed one to her sister.

Shirley Wright was surprised her sister bought such a luxury, and she wasn't really used to the cough syrup taste of Coke.

“You need to balance work and rest. If you want high scores and to get into college, you can't just brute force it. Drink some, relax a bit.”

“This is pretty expensive, isn't it? Spending money like this…”

Susan Wright put on a stern face and said, then I'll drink it myself. Shirley Wright quickly drank it all in one go.

She drank too fast, and a lot of gas went into her stomach, making Shirley Wright burp several times.

“It tastes weird, but it's actually quite refreshing. Thanks, I'll get back to studying.”

But not long after, drowsiness started to wash over her in waves.

She was so sleepy she couldn't stand it, so Shirley Wright lay down on the bed in the inner room. She didn't have the strength to climb to the upper bunk, so she just lay down on Adrian Wright's lower bunk, planning to take a nap and told Susan Wright to wake her in an hour.

Susan Wright washed both empty glasses, especially Shirley Wright's, scrubbing it several times. The sleeping pills were very strong, just a bit bitter, so she had to use Coke to cover the taste. She had gone all the way to a pharmacy on Sichuan North Road to get the medicine, afraid of being recognized if she bought it nearby.

Susan Wright sat in the outer room, her Chinese textbook spread in front of her, but she never turned a page. She sat there blankly for about twenty minutes, then took a pencil case from her backpack and went to Shirley Wright's bedside.

Shirley Wright was sleeping soundly, curled up on her side, knees bent. Susan Wright called her name twice, then put the pencil case by the bed. She freed her hands and gently turned her sister over to lie flat. Shirley Wright mumbled something, but it was unclear, and she showed no sign of waking up.

Susan Wright opened the pencil case and took out the syringe.

The syringe was already filled with a semi-transparent, murky liquid. After so many days of extracting, feeding, and re-extracting cat and dog feces, after dozens of cycles, this was what she had obtained. The parasite eggs in the stray cats' and dogs' feces had been eaten and re-eaten, over and over, so the number of parasites in their bodies had increased rapidly, and the number of eggs in the feces had soared. Now, this syringe of concentrated liquid was the final "essence," containing who knows how many tens of thousands of eggs!

Shirley Wright's arm was stretched out. After so many days of experimenting on herself, Susan Wright was now quite confident in hitting a vein. She hadn't prepared any iodine—there was nothing to disinfect with, right?