Only then did I get a clear look: the girl before us, with wide, almond-shaped eyes, was perhaps seventeen or eighteen, a startling resemblance to my elder sister in her youth. If I hadn't been one hundred percent certain she was lying in a hospital a thousand miles away, I might truly have jumped, thinking my sister had magically reverted to her younger self overnight.

"What happened last night? Where did the corpse go?" Seeing our silence, she repeated the question.

"The corpse grabbed a sickle, smashed up the wake hall, and ran off by itself," I quipped. Saying those words now felt so light; if only the scene last night had been half as humorous.

"Nonsense! How could a dead person do such things? Did the two of you destroy the wake hall? Where did you move the body?" She clearly thought I was lying and directed her anger toward me.

"Little girl, where is this assumption coming from? We were locked in the inner room. You just unlocked the door; how could we possibly wreck the hall? Not to mention moving the body," I protested vehemently against her groundless suspicion.

She fell silent upon hearing my explanation, suddenly unable to find a reason to refute me.

"Little girl," Wang Jue groaned, pushing himself up from the side, "do you have any fever reducers?"

She turned, seeing Wang Jue with a face flushed crimson, sweating profusely, struggling to stand up, gasping for breath.

"I have medicine at home. Have you two gone without food for long? I’ll get something for you to eat first." She turned and left the inner room. I helped Wang Jue stumble outside. The main hall was a shambles; not a single item remained intact. There wasn't even a stool we could sit on.

We had no choice but to sit on the threshold of the main hall and wait for the girl. Before long, she reappeared, carrying a bamboo basket, looking remarkably like the village maiden from the story of the Monkey King fighting the White Bone Demon.

She set the basket down before us. Inside were a teapot, a bowl of steamed buns, and a small packet of medicine placed beside them.

I took the medicine out first and gave it to Wang Jue. He swallowed the pill in one go, then grabbed the teapot and drank deeply and satisfyingly. He’d been running a fever since last night and hadn't had any water or food since Ah Li brought in that tiny pot of water. After he finished drinking, I handed him a bun, and then grabbed one myself, devouring it ravenously.

When people are hungry, everything tastes good; when facing disaster, one is most easily moved. I remembered back then: my sister worked alone to earn money to support the family, while I skipped classes daily to play games. I couldn't count the number of times I used her ID to stay overnight at internet cafes, only to be dragged home by her halfway through the night. How many times did my staying out all night, refusing to go to class, and getting into fights wound her heart? Now she lay on a cold hospital bed, and facing this youthful vision of my sister, a deep sense of guilt washed over me. Perhaps a person has to go through many things before they learn how to love. Saying a kind word, writing a card, or calling a few extra times is certainly good; but to shoulder responsibility when needed, to face hardship together without flinching—that is what truly makes a man.

"Little girl, what is your name?" I asked, taking a bite of my bun while carefully studying this younger version of my sister.

"My name is Hua Gu. Most families in this village are surnamed Hua."

"So, you’re Miao as well?" Seeing that she seemed open to talking, I became interested and struck up a conversation.

"Yes, a genuine, born-and-bred Miao girl."

"I hear Miao women know how to raise Gu. Do you?"