Li Ming sat in her Washington office under the dim, yellow light, tightly clutching the phone. It was her older brother calling, his voice low and urgent: "I'm on a business trip in Shenzhen, and I went to look for Li Wen. She…"
His words made her heart seize. Memories surged like a rising tide. He told her that he had carried Li Wen's photograph from one bar to another across Shenzhen, quietly asking staff and regulars about her. Neon lights flickered in the night; the music vibrated through the floors; the scent of alcohol and perfume hung in every corner. The rumors he gathered were scattered, cruel—Li Wen had become a "mami" in the nightlife scene, managing a group of girls, assigning their work, maintaining order, yet she could not escape loneliness and danger. Occasionally, she used drugs to keep herself alert through the long night shifts. Time had etched its marks on her face.
Her brother recalled those days in Shenzhen—carrying the photos, stepping quietly into each bar, trying not to draw attention, asking discreet questions. Smoke, perfume, and alcohol swirled in the air; girls in flashy outfits moved through the crowd. Some whispered that the woman in the photo had been a "mami," running the entire night scene; others said she had once been beautiful, but years of nightlife had eroded her glow. He observed every detail carefully… Though he had never seen his sister in person, the fragmented rumors pieced together a heartbreaking picture.
It was said that Li Wen had started as a hostess, but as she grew older and gained experience in the nightlife, she gradually became a "mami." She directed new girls, organized their shifts, maintained discipline—but behind that authority was a profound loneliness. The nights were long, and she sometimes used drugs to stay awake, numbing herself against the fatigue and isolation. Her youthful sharpness and beauty had been worn away by time and the relentless night shifts, leaving a weary, aged face, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and bitterness.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Her brother's voice dropped even lower: "I couldn't find her… but I know how she's living now. I think you should know this."
Silence followed.
Li Ming's fingers went white; her throat felt blocked. She remembered the snowy nights in Harbin, searching the streets for her missing sister, her heart pounding with fear. That anxiety, that helplessness—now it returned, heavier and late.
She closed her eyes and saw Li Wen standing under the dim bar lights, calm but distant, directing the crowd, carrying her exhaustion and loneliness alone in the corner.
When the call ended, Li Ming's world felt shattered.
Her chest collapsed inch by inch. The pain spread from within. She did not cry, but the tears were lodged deep in her throat, like a storm that could not be released. It was not simple sorrow—it was a delayed, irreparable collapse.
And that was only the beginning.
Two months later, her brother called again from Harbin.
This time, his voice was heavier: "Li Wen… we found her."
A brief pause, then he added, "But it's bad."
Years of drug abuse had utterly destroyed her body. Organs were failing, bones deteriorated. She had been in and out of rehab repeatedly, slowly consuming herself in an endless cycle…
"She doesn't have much time left."
When he said those words, Li Ming felt hollowed out.
The world lost its sound. All she heard was a faint intake of breath, as if something inside her chest had exploded—memories, unfinished cares, all the missed chances, collapsing at once.
She finally broke down.
Not with shouting, but as if her entire being had been shattered—consciousness loose, breathing ragged, even standing impossible. It was complete loss of control: regret for the past, pain in the present, emptiness for the future.
She did not hesitate.
After hanging up, Li Ming abandoned all work and flew to Shenzhen overnight.
As the plane lifted off, the city lights receding behind the window, she curled into her seat, weightless. Reason and order had vanished; only one thought remained—get there, before it's too late.
—She had to see her.
Arriving in Shenzhen, she rushed to the hospital.
The moment she pushed open the ward door, she froze.
Li Wen lay on