"Goodbye, sister."

　　IV. Metamorphosis

　　1

　　A little after ten in the morning, the sponsored training class was in the middle of formation drills when the instructor came running over to call Susan Wright out of the ranks, saying her family had called the company. After finishing the call, Susan Wright asked the instructor for leave, explaining that an elder who hadn’t returned to China in many years was back from the UK and making a brief stop in Shanghai, so the whole family wanted to gather together. If possible, she could return to the barracks tonight. The instructor told her not to rush, that coming back tomorrow would be fine. Susan Wright was the class monitor, always taking the lead and setting an example, never showing any sign of delicacy—she was well regarded by all the soldiers.

　　Susan Wright changed into casual clothes and headed toward the camp gate. Winnie Hayes caught up and said, “Your family lives near the French Concession, right? Could you bring me a Jingan Bakery madeleine when you come back? I’m craving it so much, is that okay?” Susan Wright said it was no problem, but asked why she’d come running over like this. Winnie Hayes replied, “The instructor told us to take a break, big monitor.” Susan Wright smiled and said, “Then while I’m gone, help me feed the rabbit.”

　　A gleaming black Hongqi sedan was parked at the camp gate, with a middle-aged man in a crisp suit waiting by the car. Susan Wright smiled at him. He quickly opened the back door for her. Susan Wright gathered her long hair and bent down to get in, and he even used his hand to shield the top, as if afraid the young lady might bump her head. Susan Wright rolled down the window and waved to Winnie Hayes, who stood there stunned, her mouth forming an O.

　　The car drove into the city and stopped at a bus stop. Susan Wright counted out fifteen yuan for the driver—most of her savings—but she didn’t mind. Money is meant to be spent, as long as it’s spent where it matters.

　　“Thanks,” the driver said. “Call me next time you need a ride. I can find an even better car.”

　　Susan Wright agreed and thanked him.

　　After transferring through four bus lines, it was already three in the afternoon when she arrived at the cemetery. Spring was just warming up, the breeze still a bit chilly—a wonderful time of year was approaching. In eight days, it would be Qingming Festival, 1996.

　　Susan Wright stood the whole way, her back always straight. Half a year of military training had made her stamina and posture stand out even more. The bus stop was on the highway; after getting off, she walked a short distance before turning onto a small path leading to the cemetery. At this time of year, there was no need to enter the cemetery itself—new green dotted both sides of the road. But the highway was dusty; when a big truck rumbled by, it kicked up a cloud of dust. Susan Wright covered her face with her hand, waiting for the dust to settle, revealing her slightly pale, youthful face.

　　Susan Wright slowly made her way toward the cemetery. As she turned onto the path and reached the gate, a small dog ran out, startling her into a sideways jump, the last trace of color draining from her cheeks. Ever since then, she had avoided cats and dogs.

　　More than two years ago, on the day of the winter solstice, Susan Wright stood before Big Sis (Emily)’s tombstone and was reborn. She felt her father’s belated expectations, and also sensed a resentful gaze from the beyond, yet she could still stand tall before the grave and speak to Big Sis (Emily). The world was full of turbulent waves, but she believed she could now cut through them. The immense pressure lingering at the tombstone would eventually fade, just as the portrait on the stone would grow dim and old.

　　But she was wrong.

　　1994, 1995, 1996—years flowed by like a river. Susan Wright advanced to her final year of high school, took the college entrance exam, scored high, and was admitted to Shanghai Medical College, even making it into the elite sponsored class. Every day she could feel herself changing—becoming more radiant, more like a swan. She even began to get used to others’ praise, to the looks of envy and slight jealousy. This transformation had given her new skin, new blood, new flesh. Yet every time she came here, entered the cemetery, the boundless darkness in her bones would seep out and engulf her. No matter how bright or tough her exterior, no matter how much psychological preparation she did or how much she pretended to forget, it was all useless here—everything would be shattered, exposing her most unbearable self.

　　And yet, she couldn’t help but come. As Qingming approached, she started having chaotic dreams at night. She wondered why Big Sis (Emily)’s soul hadn’t reincarnated after all these years, why it always became restless at this time, only settling down after she’d visited the grave. Thinking deeper, Susan Wright understood it was probably her own psychological issue. But that was only natural—everyone pays a price.

　　Once inside the cemetery, the sunlight lost its warmth, her hands and feet turned cold. Under a cloudless sky, with her head lowered, she still felt as if a dark cloud pressed down on her. Susan Wright took a few deep breaths, checked the grave numbers, and hurried forward to Shirley Wright’s tombstone. In just a few years, the photo on the stone already seemed a century old. Susan Wright didn’t dare look too long—the eyes in that photo, no matter how much time had passed, could still stare straight into her heart.

　　She placed the offerings, lit incense, bowed three times, stuck the incense in the earth, and turned to leave. Her steps were even faster than when she’d come, because Susan Wright knew that once she left the cemetery, the friendly world would return. She would feel the sun’s warmth and the gentle breeze again—the true beginning of spring, lasting until... the next visit.

　　Reincarnation, year after year.

　　She suddenly realized her back was hunched. She immediately straightened up. After nearly a year of military training, she still entered the cemetery like this—would she be this way her whole life? This inescapable original sin—she couldn’t help but feel a trace of sorrow. The sadness circled in her heart, and somehow, it turned into a surge of anger. Susan Wright stopped, turned around, and walked back to Shirley Wright’s grave.

　　“Ah, sister! Cause and effect, you died, so I must pay—does that make sense? No, it doesn’t. Is there really such a thing as karma in this world? Is it really true that good is rewarded and evil punished? I doubt it. The fact that I feel a little guilty about you means I still have a conscience. If I’d lost all my conscience, I wouldn’t be standing here like this today—I might not even be here at all, might have forgotten you forever, never coming to see you again. Sister, tell me, why does Dad never talk about karma, never say that good is rewarded? What evil did Mom do to end up like this? And what evil did you do to end up like this? There’s no such thing as retribution. Or maybe, the evil done in a past life is repaid in this one, and the suffering in this life is repaid in the next. Maybe Mom did something bad in her past life; maybe you did something to wrong me in your past life, too. Anyway, you know it all now. As for me, if I have to pay you back in the next life, I don’t mind. In this life, I only care about the present.”

　　“I’m doing pretty well now. I’m the class monitor of the sponsored class, elected with the highest votes. I want everyone to like me, and it’s really not that hard—just like on the old street, everyone in the neighborhood liked me. Only at home, you, Dad... Now that you’re gone, Dad has no choice but to like me. But I don’t want to live on the old street. I don’t like the me who lived there. I studied so hard and got into college just to be different from those people. Do you know what my classmates think of me? They think I live in the French Concession, have a big family, and was well brought up. They have all kinds of guesses, but I’ve never said anything about myself. People notice the details—success and failure both depend on them. Seeing how well I’m doing, how do you feel? After all, you’re already dead. If it weren’t for your death, I wouldn’t be where I am today. What do you hope for me? Do you want me to live as miserably as before? If so, what was the point of your death? The better I live, the more your departure is worth, isn’t it? You should bless me, sister. After all, you’re dead—dead! I’ll pay you back in the next life. In this life, I want to live well, and no one can stop me, no one!”

　　There was no one else around. Susan Wright held her head high and said all this, then finally found the courage to lower her head and look straight at Big Sis (Emily)’s photo, to meet those eyes.

　　She was startled to find they were unfamiliar eyes, an unfamiliar portrait.

　　She had gone to the wrong grave.

　　2

　　Whenever she looked back on it, Susan Wright deeply regretted her actions in the cemetery. She couldn’t figure out what had come over her that day, to have the nerve to speak so brazenly before the dead. Many times, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was precisely because she had angered the spirits that her fate had become so unpredictable.

　　For Susan Wright, if Shirley Wright’s death was the starting point of her rebirth, then she had risen all the way up, reaching the peak in the spring of 1996. Perhaps in Susan Wright’s eyes, this was far from the peak—she was only at the foot of the mountain, with endless vistas ahead. But in reality, the summit had already flashed by without her noticing, and from then on, it was all downhill.

　　After that visit to the grave, Susan Wright returned to the military training camp the next morning—at a certain unit of the Shanghai Garrison. She acted as she always did. Besides the madeleine for Winnie Hayes, she bought another one to share with her classmates. Everyone ate with relish, and Susan Wright smiled as she watched. In fact, she had never tasted a madeleine herself, but of course her classmates didn’t know that. She was always hard on herself—only that way could she fight for the future she wanted.

　　The other person who didn’t eat one was William Williams.