Chapter 28 — A Kindness Remembered
The afternoon sun was beginning to dip behind the distant hills when Bai Ling and his wife, Mu Yen, came running toward them. The soft glow of the setting sun painted their figures gold, but the dust on their clothes showed they had run the whole way without stopping.
"Bai… Bai Sung…" Bai Ling gasped, clutching at his brother's shoulders for support.
His breath came in short bursts as sweat beaded on his forehead. Mu Yen, beside him, held a small plastic bag tightly in both hands.
Bai Sung reached forward and helped his brother steady himself. "Why did you run all this way? You should've stayed home," he said quietly, though his eyes were already softening.
It took Bai Ling a moment to catch his breath. Then he pushed something into his brother's hands—a small stack of folded bills wrapped in old newspaper. "Bai Sung," he said, voice hoarse but firm, "I don't have much, but this is all I can give."
Bai Sung's fingers closed reflexively around the money, but his eyes widened. "No, Bai Ling, I can't take this. You need it more than I do."
"Just take it," Bai Ling interrupted. "I won't sleep easy if you don't."
Behind him, Mu Yen stepped forward. She was a delicate woman with fair skin, her black hair neatly tied into a bun. Though she lived in the countryside, her soft eyes and gentle manners carried a grace rarely seen among village women. Her features were fine and well-balanced—the kind of beauty that lingered quietly, not the kind that sought attention.
In her hands, she held out the plastic bag. "Sister-in-law," she said softly to Chu Sun, "please accept this. I managed to take some rice and a bit of vegetables before Mother noticed."
Chu Sun froze. Her lips trembled as she looked at Mu Yen. The kindness in her sister-in-law's eyes pierced through the fog of humiliation and exhaustion that had settled on her heart since morning. "Mu Yen… you shouldn't have. What if they find out?"
Mu Yen gave a faint smile. "Then I'll just say it was my own idea. I don't care what they say. You've all suffered enough."
For a moment, no one spoke. The wind brushed softly through the nearby bamboo grove, carrying the faint scent of smoke and damp earth.
Bai Sung looked down at the bag of rice and the money in his hands. His throat tightened. In one day, he had lost his home, his name had been slandered, and his own mother had turned against him. But now—at least one person still saw him as family.
"Bai Ling," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion, "you've already done enough for us at the factory. You don't need to do this."
Bai Ling shook his head firmly. "Family should help family. You've always been the one working hardest, taking the hardest shifts, covering for me when I fell ill. This is the least I can do."
"Bai Ling…" Bai Sung murmured, unable to say more.
Mu Yen looked at the little ones standing behind them. Bai Xuan, Bai Yang, and Bai Xin all stood quietly beside their mother, their small faces showing a mix of confusion and relief. But Bai Xia—she stood out. Her eyes, though calm, carried a spark of understanding far beyond her years. She looked at Mu Yen and smiled faintly, committing the woman's kindness deep into her memory.
Mu Yen crouched down and gently patted Bai Yang's head. "You're a good boy. Take care of your mother, okay?"
The little boy nodded seriously, his lips pressed together.
Then she looked at Bai Xia. "You're strong, aren't you? I can tell."
Bai Xia blinked, her lips curving up slightly. "We'll be okay, Auntie," she said softly.
Something in Mu Yen's chest ached at those words. She wanted to say more, but her husband spoke first.
"Bai Sung," Bai Ling said, stepping closer again. "The inn at the entrance of the village—it belongs to my friend. If you tell him my name, he'll give you a good room and a discount. You can stay there for now until you figure out what to do next."
Bai Sung's hands tightened around the bag. His lips quivered slightly before he whispered, "You… you really didn't have to."
Bai Ling smiled weakly. "I wanted to."
For a long moment, the two brothers simply stood there, the air thick with the unspoken bond that blood and hardship forged stronger than any words. Then Bai Sung took a deep breath and spoke. "I'll repay you someday."
Bai Ling laughed quietly. "If you say that, I'll be angry. Just promise me one thing—don't let them drag you back."
Bai Sung nodded. "I won't."
He turned toward Chu Sun, who was still staring at the bag of rice as though it were a rare treasure. "We'll be fine," he said softly to her. "At least now… we're free."
Chu Sun bit her lip and nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. The weight she had carried for years—the scolding, the insults, the hunger—finally began to lift.
They started walking again, but before they could take more than a few steps, Bai Sung stopped. "Bai Ling," he called over his shoulder, "take care of yourself. And take care of Mu Yen too."
Bai Ling nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He took his wife's hand. "Let's go," he said quietly.
Mu Yen hesitated, then gave a small wave to Chu Sun and the children. "Be safe," she whispered.
Then the couple turned and ran back toward the village road.
Bai Xia watched their retreating backs, her small hands curling into fists. She could still see the way Mu Yen's skirt fluttered as she ran, how Bai Ling kept glancing back every few seconds as though worried for them. The image carved itself deep into her heart.
She would remember this kindness. Forever.
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As they reached the edge of the village, the path opened up to a wide field of golden wheat swaying in the soft evening breeze. Beyond it lay the narrow road leading toward the town—the road to their uncertain future.
Bai Sung paused for a moment, looking back one last time at the small village that had both raised and betrayed him.
The distant rooftops shimmered faintly in the fading light, and the cries of crows echoed from the trees.
He took a deep breath.
"From today," he said quietly, "we begin anew."
Bai Xia turned to him and smiled, her eyes glinting with determination. "We'll make it, Father. You'll see."
Chu Sun reached for her husband's hand, squeezing it gently. "No matter what comes next, we'll face it together."
The family walked on, their shadows stretching long across the dusty road as the sky slowly deepened from orange to violet.
And though they carried only a small bag of rice and a handful of money, their hearts felt lighter than they had in years. For the first time, they were not bound by fear or cruelty.
They were walking toward freedom.