Beneath the Ruins
When that earthquake swallowed the western province, my husband left me behind. He boarded a flight to another city, chasing the ghost of his first love. I was trapped beneath a pile of rubble, unable to move, with only the glow of my phone screen illuminating my face. I sent him a message: “Ethan, there’s an earthquake. I’m trapped down here. It’s pitch black. I’m so scared…” After I was rescued, I sent him two final messages and then abandoned my phone among the debris. “Ethan, I can’t hold on anymore. Good thing you were busy with work, or you’d be buried here with me and the baby.” “I’m so glad you’re safe.” — I did it on purpose. I wanted him to believe I was gone. I wanted him to drown in regret for me, for the child I carried, day and night. I wanted him to weep and wail with remorse. And when the truth could no longer be hidden, I would stand before him and say, “I want a divorce.”
---
1
In the second year of my marriage to Ethan, the white moonlight of his heart returned from overseas. On the day I went to pick her up at the airport with him, I watched as a girl with ink-black hair, a flowing white dress, and a fragile frame threw herself into his arms, tears glistening in her eyes like a migrating bird returning to its nest. “Ethan, I finally get to see you again.” And Ethan—his body stiffened for a moment, then he reached out and gently patted her head. “There, there. It’s okay now.” I stood right beside them, as superfluous as an outsider. After a moment’s hesitation, I stepped forward and took Ethan’s hand, forcing a smile. “Alright, now that we’ve picked her up, let’s go.” Only then did she seem to notice me, pulling back from his embrace. She smiled, but there was a hint of surprise and awkwardness in it. “Brother Ethan, you got married?” Ethan murmured a reply. And so, the three of us went home in an awkward silence. Of course, maybe I was the only one who felt awkward. Vivian was the white moonlight in Ethan’s heart, and also his nominal sister. I had always known there was someone he pined for, but I only learned the details after marrying him. Ethan’s family background was complicated. He was an orphan. His biological parents died in a car accident when he was nine, leaving him alone. Then, his father’s friend—Vivian’s father—took him in. That was how the story of Ethan and Vivian began. Ethan had always been a withdrawn child—quiet, reserved, and deeply introverted. His childhood trauma made him seem distant and unapproachable. Vivian, on the other hand, grew up in comfort and happiness, innocent and carefree, like a little sun that slowly warmed Ethan, bringing him the warmth of a home. Of course, Ethan never told me about his past with Vivian. I pieced it together myself. But when I led Vivian into the home Ethan and I had shared for three years and watched her look around curiously, touching this and that, I knew my guesses weren’t far off.
That evening, while cooking dinner, Ethan bought some taro and asked me to make taro spareribs. He said, “Vivian loves taro spareribs the most.” I lowered my eyes and stayed silent for a long time. Ethan was never a meticulous man. I had known him for eight years—chased him for five, lived with him for three—and even so, he sometimes forgot my preferences. He didn’t even remember that I was allergic to taro. But he remembered Vivian’s likes clearly, even though she had been abroad for six years. I pressed my lips together and asked, “Ethan, have you forgotten? I’m allergic to taro. If I touch it, I break out in red rashes all over.” He seemed startled for a moment, then smiled and gently pushed me out of the kitchen. “Sorry, Seraphina, I didn’t know you were allergic. We’ve never had taro on our table before. Why don’t you go sit down? I’ll cook dinner tonight.” Actually, Ethan and I had eaten taro once before. It was three years ago, right after I finally won him over. That day, I was floating on cloud nine. At lunch, he ordered a taro chicken dish, and I didn’t even look before taking a bite. He was the one who took me to the hospital that time. But that was so long ago. He had probably forgotten. I nodded silently and said nothing more. Vivian was still sitting in the living room, and I didn’t want to make things awkward. At dinner, perhaps because of what had happened earlier, Ethan kept piling food onto my plate. “The shrimp is good today.” I ate it slowly. When I looked up, I saw Vivian also putting a piece on my plate. She glanced at Ethan, then at me, her smile warm and her movements natural. “Yeah, sister, eat more shrimp. Brother Ethan makes the best shrimp.” As if I were the guest in this house.
Vivian stayed with us. It was Ethan’s idea to bring her to our home. Three days earlier, Ethan had suddenly told me that his sister, who had been living abroad, was coming back. He said she had been through a lot over the years—alone in a foreign country, betrayed by her boyfriend, diagnosed with depression… As he spoke, his lips were pressed tight, and his eyes were dark and bleak. Seeing him like that, my heart ached. So when he said, “She’s coming back alone. She doesn’t want to go home or let her parents know. She wants to stay with us for a while,” I agreed without hesitation. Back then, I didn’t know that the “sister” he was talking about was the white moonlight he had pined for all these years. It wasn’t until I saw Vivian’s face at the airport that I suddenly realized—I had seen her photo before. In Ethan’s bookshelf, tucked into page 68 of *Wang Shu Cao*. He had hidden her picture there. On that page, he had underlined a line with a pen: “If someone asks about my sorrow, I dare not speak your name.” She was the one buried deep in Ethan’s heart, the one he could never forget. That night, I lay in bed, unable to sleep, thinking about Ethan and Vivian. Ethan wrapped his arms around me from behind, his warm breath brushing against my ear. “Can’t sleep?” I nodded. Then I heard a crash. I got up and walked out of the room. Vivian was standing in the living room, surrounded by shards of ceramic, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling.
---
2
What had shattered was the ceramic figurine Ethan and I had made together. On the day we got together, we made it at a pottery shop. I made one of him, and he made one of me. And just like that, we became a couple. I had always treasured it as our token of love, even engraving “Ethan and Seraphina, together forever” on its base. But now, it was broken. I frowned at the scattered pieces. Ethan’s gaze, however, was fixed on Vivian. Vivian cried beautifully. When she cried, her eyelids turned slightly red, like pear blossoms in the rain. No one could bear to scold her. “It’s just a pair of ceramic figurines. It’s nothing. Don’t cry,” he sighed softly, pulling her to sit on the sofa, his brow furrowed. “How did you get so careless? You’ve cut your foot.” I was left to clean up the mess, like a maid. Vivian sat on the sofa, her brows knit, tears in her eyes, looking helpless and pitiful. “Sister… I didn’t mean to… I just… I just…” “I couldn’t sleep, so I wanted to walk around. I saw the figurine and thought it was cute, so I wanted to take a closer look. But my hand slipped…” “Sister, I’m sorry…” Her hands were trembling as she spoke, and she started crying again before she could finish, as if something painful had come to mind. Seeing this, I said nothing. I went to the balcony and pulled out a cigarette. Vivian kept calling me “sister.” While Ethan was cooking in the kitchen, she sat with me in the living room, calling me “sister” over and over, asking about my life with Ethan over the years. I corrected her: “I’m married to your brother Ethan. You should call me sister-in-law.” She didn’t reply. Instead, she picked up a cat-shaped pillow from the sofa and smiled at me in surprise. “Oh, sister, look at this! I gave this to Brother Ethan before I went abroad. I can’t believe he still has it.” My brows immediately knitted, and my stomach churned. I rolled the cigarette between my fingers but didn’t light it. Ethan didn’t like women who smoked. The type he liked had always been like Vivian—black hair, white dress, clean and delicate. Maybe I had been standing on the balcony too long. Ethan came over and took the cigarette from my hand. “Don’t smoke. It’s bad for you.” I hadn’t planned to smoke anyway. I was pregnant and couldn’t smoke. But he didn’t know. I hadn’t told him yet. “Where’s your sister?” I asked. He gestured toward the room. “She went to sleep.” “Oh,” I said, then pressed on. “Don’t you need to keep her company?” “What?” He was taken aback. I smiled and asked how much longer Vivian would be staying with us. I looked at him, unusually honest. “Ethan, I don’t like your sister.” “Do you know? Back when I was chasing you, you got drunk once and held me, calling out ‘Vivian.’ At the time, I didn’t know who you were calling for. But now…” “Do you really only see her as a sister?” “Ethan, make her leave. Either she goes, or I do. Choose.”
---
3
Ethan stared at me for a long time, his expression complicated. Then he let out a long sigh. “Seraphina, what happened earlier—Vivian didn’t mean it. She has depression. Her emotions are unstable. Can you be a little understanding?” “I know this is unfair to you, but Vivian’s parents, and Vivian herself, have been good to me…” “I brought her here with no other intentions. The past is in the past. Now, I really only see her as a sister.” “I have you, don’t I?” Ethan asked me to trust him. I looked at him and thought of many things. Ethan and I met in high school. Back then, he was good-looking and excelled in his studies, but he wasn’t very likable. The reason? He was too withdrawn. He sat in the last row, against the wall—the darkest corner of the classroom. When he sat there, it seemed even the light couldn’t reach him. But I liked him. I thought he was a lot like me. Ethan had transferred into our class during our senior year. Normally, few students would switch schools during such a critical year, but he did. And in that year, I never saw his parents. Of course, I never saw mine either. My parents divorced when I was very young. Neither of them wanted me. They fought in court, and the judge awarded custody to my father. Soon after, they both remarried, and I became the extra one. I guessed Ethan’s family situation was similar to mine. Or maybe worse. After all, my father, though neglectful, was generous with money. But Ethan, even during the grueling senior year, often worked part-time at a bubble tea shop outside school. My heart ached for him. Besides, I knew Ethan was actually a very gentle person. He seemed cold, but once, when I was crying alone in the garden behind the school library after a fight with my father, he passed by without a word and quietly left a pack of tissues beside me. I still remember it was dusk, with a gentle breeze and golden sunlight shining on him, making even his hair glow. I think that was the moment I fell for him. Later, I got into the same university as him. I started chasing him. I did everything I could to be good to him. During those four years of college, Ethan rarely went home. Even during holidays and breaks, he stayed on campus. I shamelessly stayed by his side, insisting on celebrating holidays with him. I spent one Spring Festival after another with him, one birthday after another. He liked girls with long hair and white dresses, so I grew out my short hair and changed into the dresses he liked. He loved home-cooked meals, saying they tasted like home, so I learned to cook and made them for him myself. I did so many things for him. But as I did, I realized… many of those things had already been done for him by someone else. His life was filled with traces of another girl. But that was okay. I never gave up. If someone had done it before, I would do it better, even better, until no one could do it better than me. In all my life, no one had ever been good to me. So I tried my hardest to be good to him. I chased him for five years, and finally, the clouds parted to reveal the moon. But now, that girl was back. “Even if you can guarantee you only see her as a sister, what about Vivian?” “Can you guarantee she doesn’t have other feelings for you?” This time, he was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “No. That’s all in the past.” Ethan promised me that no matter what, he only saw Vivian as a sister. He said he was already looking for a place for her. In a few days, once her emotions stabilized and he found a suitable apartment, he would send her away. And I… I couldn’t bear to let him go, couldn’t bear to let go of our eight years together. I decided to trust him one more time. For those eight years. And for the child growing inside me. My hand instinctively went to my belly, then quickly dropped. “Ethan, you said it yourself. Don’t lie to me.” “If you do, I swear, you’ll regret it.” “I’ll make sure you regret it.”
---
4
The day Vivian moved out was overcast. Ethan and I went with her to her new place. She had a lot of stuff. Just cleaning and packing took nearly four hours. By the time we got home, it was already raining. No sooner had we stepped inside than Ethan’s phone rang. I didn’t know what Vivian said on the other end, but I clearly saw Ethan pause before replying. He hung up, walked around her old room, grabbed an umbrella, and hurried out. “She forgot something important. I need to take it to her.” The rain was pouring outside. “Does it have to be now?” “She needs it right away.” I nodded. “Then I’ll come with you.” He finally looked at me, smiled, pulled me into his arms, and kissed my cheek. “You don’t have to come. The rain’s too heavy. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back after I drop it off.” I didn’t insist. I wanted to go with him, but I was pregnant now and couldn’t be so reckless. I sat on the sofa for a long time, slowly pouring myself a cup of hot water. By the time the water had cooled, Ethan still hadn’t returned. I only got a message from him: “Seraphina, the rain’s really heavy. I’ll stay here for a bit and come back when it lets up. I’ll bring you your favorite mochi from that shop.” I stared at the message for a while, then replied, “Okay,” and stood up.
Vivian’s door wasn’t fully closed. She had left it slightly ajar, and I could see the warm light inside. But I didn’t have the courage to push it open. The hallway was dim. Through the door, I could hear sobbing. Vivian was crying. I heard her voice, choked with tears. “Brother Ethan, I’ve missed you so much. All these years abroad, I’ve thought of you every day and every night…” “Don’t you miss me?” My hand on the doorknob began to tremble. “Vivian, you’re drunk. Let go of me. Don’t be ridiculous.” Then came the sound of a bottle clattering to the floor. It seemed Ethan had pushed her away. “I’m not! I’m not being ridiculous!” “You were the one who said you liked me first! You said you wanted to be with me forever!” “You still like me, don’t you? I know you do!” “I asked Seraphina. You got together on June 10th, 2019. That day, you found out from my dad that I was in a relationship. You were angry because I was with someone else, so you agreed to be with her!” “Answer me!” After a long silence, I finally heard his reply, tinged with exhaustion. “So what if that’s true? It’s in the past. I…” My heart plummeted. I stood frozen, my body cold, but my heart pounding wildly, as if it might leap out of my throat. Then all sound in the room ceased, replaced by a muffled groan. I knew that groan all too well. In the past, I loved to wrap my arms around Ethan’s neck and kiss him while he was reading. And he would let out that same groan. They were kissing. More precisely, Vivian was kissing him. And Ethan? What was his reaction? What expression did he have? Instinctively, I pushed the door open a crack. In the warm light flooding out, I clearly saw the shock on Ethan’s face. But in the next moment, he slowly closed his eyes. They were kissing in the warm light. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I covered my mouth and ran. At the sound, the two inside separated. Ethan chased after me. “Seraphina!” “Seraphina, let me explain! It’s not what you think!” Back home, Ethan tried over and over to explain. But I locked myself in the bedroom and threw up until there was nothing left. He stood outside, explaining. He said he stayed because Vivian was drunk and emotionally unstable. He said it was all a misunderstanding, all because Vivian was drunk. The words he said to her were a misunderstanding—he just wanted to stop her from clinging to him. The kiss, too. Finally, he said, “Seraphina, it’s all in the past. I have you now. As for Vivian, I really only see her as a sister.”
---
5
That night, I slept alone. I tossed and turned, thinking all night. The next morning, I got up and opened the door to find Ethan standing right outside. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all—dark circles under his eyes, stubble on his chin, his expression cautious. He looked at me carefully, like a dog afraid of its owner’s anger. I thought for a moment, then smiled at him. “I’m hungry. I want your congee. Will you make me some?” Hearing this, Ethan was stunned for a moment, then quickly smiled. He thought I had come around and forgiven him. But I hadn’t. I had just given up. That night, I thought a lot. I was never one to dwell on others’ faults. On the contrary, maybe because life had been so bitter, I had always been good at remembering the good in people. So when I thought of Ethan, I remembered the times he stayed by my bedside all night with a cold towel when I had a fever. I remembered the night he proposed, under the starry sky on the beach, holding me and kissing me. I remembered one time, on his parents’ death anniversary, he held me and said hoarsely, “Seraphina, I only have you. You can never leave me.” But then, I thought of other things too. I thought of how, in recent days, he had drifted between me and Vivian. I thought of how he forgot what I was allergic to but remembered all her preferences. I thought of how he said he loved me, but his eyes looked at her. I thought of how, after eight years, I still couldn’t win his true heart. I was tired. So tired. But I was also unwilling. I couldn’t accept that after giving so much, I had nothing to show for it. I couldn’t accept that the moment I left, they would be free to be together. We had a child. We had been so close to happiness. I closed my eyes heavily. I wanted Ethan to never be able to be with Vivian without guilt, even after I was gone.
In the days that followed, Ethan was exceptionally good to me, almost overly careful. He would take detours to buy my favorite cake, buy me the latest handbags to make amends, kiss my cheek every morning before leaving. He started coming home on time, spending more time with me. But I also saw on Vivian’s social media how he bought her medicine, cooked for her, celebrated her birthday… Her last post was a pair of comparison photos. One was of them years ago, young and innocent, with bright, sincere smiles. The other was a selfie. In it, Vivian held a bouquet of roses, smiling sweetly, while behind her, a man in an apron was busy in the kitchen. The caption read: “Time flies, but we remain the same.” Anyone seeing that post would think they were a loving young couple. I looked at it, then gave it a like. A while later, I got a call from Ethan. “Seraphina, are you off work? I’ll pick you up for dinner.” “Sure, let’s have Western food.” I agreed happily, thinking to myself, he’s so busy. Busy taking care of me, busy keeping her company. Can’t let go of me, can’t let go of her.
I pretended to know nothing and started playing the role of a devoted wife who trusted him completely. One night, I even clearly heard Vivian calling him on the phone. I simply asked, “Is that Vivian?” He was lying beside me when he answered, still half-asleep, but he sat up. “Yeah, she has a cold. Her head hurts…” He said it instinctively, then froze. “Seraphina, I…” I smiled. “Oh. Then go see her. Just come back early.” That night, Ethan didn’t leave. He said she had medicine at home and had told her to take it and sleep it off. When he finished, he turned to look at me. His expression was… hard to describe. It was like disbelief mixed with hesitation. After a long pause, he finally asked, “Why?” “Why what?” I played dumb. “It’s the middle of the night, and you want me to take medicine to another woman?” Oh, so he knew it was wrong. I smiled softly. “She’s your sister, isn’t she?” “Ethan, I’ve thought about it. I should trust you.” “People have to move forward, right? Let the past be the past.” That night, Ethan and I talked a lot. I had never been one to act coy or show weakness. I always liked to put up a strong front. But that night, I imitated Vivian. I learned to show weakness, to bare my heart, to exaggerate my pain and act fragile. Then I told him, “Ethan, I only have you. If I can’t even trust you, who can I trust?” “You said you’d be good to me forever. You won’t betray my trust, will you?” I knew his nature. I knew that if I did this, he would pity me and feel guilty. A man’s guilt is always more reliable than his love. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. I slowly placed my hand on my belly, and a twisted sense of satisfaction rose within me. Satisfaction, yes. But more than that, pain.
---
6
I had once looked forward to this child so much. Ethan and I both loved children. Maybe because our own families were broken, we both longed for a child of our own blood. Not long after we got married, there was a false alarm. I thought I was pregnant because of a faulty test. When I told him—I’ll never forget his face. He looked like he had been hit by a wave of joy, stunned for a moment before coming to his senses, his eyes sparkling. He was never one to show emotion, but his smile couldn’t be contained. He lifted me up excitedly, then carefully set me down, his face full of regret and worry. He was afraid. Afraid that his movements might hurt me or the baby. This time, when I found out I was really pregnant, I was overjoyed and couldn’t wait to tell him. But somehow, that night, watching his distracted expression, I didn’t say a word. And now, as I touched my belly, I thought—what if Ethan knew I was carrying his child? What if he knew he had caused this child’s death? Even more, what if the child was lost because of him and Vivian? What would happen then? I must have been crazy. I was like those villainesses in TV dramas, using a child as leverage. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. He loved children so much. He had once looked forward so eagerly to having a child with me. We had even picked out names… If that happened, he would never be able to be with Vivian without guilt, would he?
Ten days later would be our second wedding anniversary. On that day, Ethan took me to the western province for a trip. For some reason, as soon as we arrived, I felt uneasy. The baby had been so well-behaved throughout my pregnancy. I hadn’t felt any discomfort at all. That night, I lay in bed with my eyes closed, unable to sleep. Ethan was beside me, fast asleep. The night was deep and silent. Darkness amplified everything. I heard the vibration of a phone. It was Vivian. Again. Ethan answered, said a few words, and hung up. The vibration came again, over and over. I heard Vivian’s crying on the other end. “Brother Ethan, can you come see me? I feel terrible all over.” “I feel like I’m dying.” “No one loves me. You don’t want me anymore, do you?” “I’m standing on the rooftop now. The wind is so strong. It’s so dark. Will you come see me?” In the end, Ethan rubbed his temples and sighed softly. I still lay in bed, pretending to sleep, until he shook me awake. He kissed my cheek. “Seraphina, something came up at the office. I need to go back. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” According to the gentle, forgiving, trusting wife I had been pretending to be, I should have nodded and said okay. But for some reason, my heart was pounding. I pretended to have just woken from a nightmare and wrapped my arms around his waist. I even squeezed out a few tears. “Ethan, please don’t go. I just had a terrible dream. Don’t leave me here alone…” But Ethan left anyway. He patted my head and told me to stay put and wait for him. I never saw him again. At 2 a.m., a massive earthquake struck the western province. Buildings collapsed. I was buried beneath the rubble.
What was it like to be buried in the rubble? Dark. Endless darkness. The air was limited, the space limited. Only the darkness was infinite. Infinite darkness amplifies every weakness and shadow in a person. I thought I had completely given up on Ethan, that I had lost all hope. I thought I had become invincible. But I hadn’t. When I was trapped in the rubble, unable to move, I realized I was still weak. In the darkness, I sent Ethan a text: “Ethan, there’s an earthquake. I’m buried underground. It’s so dark. I’m so scared…” “Am I going to die? I don’t want to die…” In four short hours, I sent him many messages—starting with fear, then numbness, then bone-deep hatred. In those four hours, I even received messages from my friends checking on me, but Ethan never replied. I couldn’t stop wondering what he was doing. While I was buried in the rubble, was he at Vivian’s place? Or worse, in her bed, holding her and whispering sweet nothings? The thought made me tremble uncontrollably. I was buried for ten hours. When I was rescued, a new idea came to me. With trembling hands, I sent him two final messages, then threw my phone into the debris. “Ethan, I can’t hold on anymore. Good thing you were busy with work, or you’d be buried here with me and the baby.” “I’m so glad you’re safe.” I did it on purpose. I wanted him to think I had died in the rubble. I wanted him to feel guilt and remorse for me. I wanted him to remember. It was he who suggested and insisted on bringing me to the western province. It was he who left me here alone for his white moonlight, letting me and my child die in a foreign land. And I, with my heart full of him, was even worried for him and grateful for his safety in my final moments. I wanted him to see my shadow in his dreams, to be haunted by guilt every night, unable to sleep.
---
7
When Ethan received those messages, it was already broad daylight. The night before, when he found Vivian, she was standing on the rooftop, the wind making her sway dangerously. She turned to him and gave a fragile smile. “Brother Ethan, you came back. I knew you still had me in your heart.” For some reason, watching this scene, he felt a flicker of exhaustion. Of course, there was more pity than anything else. That night, Vivian clung to him, pouring out her sorrow over and over. At this point, he couldn’t even sort out his own feelings. Did he still love Vivian? It didn’t seem like it. He knew he loved Seraphina. Eight years together—she was more than a lover; she was family. Even though she had chased him first, loved him first, over those eight years, he had come to depend on her. As for Vivian, it was just reluctance. Just pity. She was the love of his youth, the one he had pined for but could never reach. Back then, everyone was against them. And now… He knew he should push her away. But he didn’t. He just patted her head and told her not to overthink. “Did you take your medicine today? Are you still feeling unwell? I’ll take you to see a doctor.” He told himself it was fine. He was just taking care of a patient. Just taking care of his sister. It was fine. Seraphina didn’t know anything. Seraphina loved him so much. Just this once. One last time. In the morning, when he woke up, it was already bright. His alarm woke him, and he instinctively reached for his phone. He found that his scheduled flight had been canceled. Then came a flood of notifications. Finally, he saw Seraphina’s messages. One after another. She said there was an earthquake, she was buried underground, it was so dark, she was so scared. In an instant, he felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar. His hands trembled as he held the phone. He told himself it wasn’t true. None of it was true. But the news alerts flooding his phone told him otherwise. He frantically called Seraphina, but no one answered. He sent her texts, but there was no reply. Fear began to set in. Terror swept over him like a hurricane. Maybe his expression was too terrible. Vivian came over and asked, “Brother Ethan, what’s wrong?” He looked at her face, the same as always, and suddenly thought of last night. Last night, at 2 a.m., when Seraphina was buried under the rubble, what was he doing? His face darkened even more. He grabbed his coat from the sofa and headed out. “Brother Ethan, where are you going?” He might have heard her voice, or maybe not. He just walked straight ahead, stumbling. He didn’t know where he was going. Where could he go? All flights to the western province were canceled. The roads had collapsed. He couldn’t get to her. He couldn’t go anywhere. Ethan finally went home. Back to the home he had shared with Seraphina for three years. He sat there, clutching his phone, refreshing it endlessly, hoping for news from her. But there was nothing. He waited five hours. Finally, he received her messages. Two very short ones. “Ethan, I can’t hold on anymore. Good thing you were busy with work, or you’d be buried here with me and the baby.” “I’m so glad you’re safe.” His heart exploded.
---
8
A child. He and Seraphina had a child. He suddenly remembered a few days ago, when Seraphina had brought home a package full of baby clothes and toys. He had found it strange and asked why she bought them. She just smiled and said a friend of hers was pregnant and she wanted to buy her a gift. Back then, he had held her and asked expectantly, “Seraphina, when will we have our own child?” And she had smiled shyly, looking at him with utter seriousness. “Ethan, if we have a child, will you be a good husband and a good father?” “Of course. I’ll take good care of you. I’ll do better than anyone. I’ll never make you sad.” The memories flooded back. He frantically searched for those things, only to find that the house was filled with traces of Seraphina. On the fridge, there was a weekly meal plan she had written on the blackboard in her neat handwriting. In the closet, all the clothes were sorted and neatly arranged. Even in his study, on his desk, there were cards she had written: “You’ve been working for an hour! Time for a break!” “Remember to drink water!” Why had he never noticed before? Why had he always taken these things for granted?
He searched for a long time. Finally, in a drawer, he found those things. Along with the baby clothes and toys, there was an old, thick sketchbook. He knew Seraphina liked to draw. But he didn’t know she had secretly drawn so many portraits of him. One after another, from their first meeting in high school to their acquaintance, love, and marriage… She had recorded every moment with her brush. The earliest drawing was already very old. It was of him in high school, reading in the classroom. Beside it, she had written in her neat handwriting: “The person I fell in love with at first sight.” The second one was the beginning of their acquaintance. In it, he quietly handed a pack of tissues to a girl crying in the garden. She wrote: “He really is a gentle person.” The third one. He stared at it for a long time, unable to remember when it was from. Only by reading the caption did he realize it was drawn during the first Spring Festival he spent with her. She wrote: “So he doesn’t have a home to go back to either. My heart aches for him.” “From now on, I’ll spend every Spring Festival with him. Even if he doesn’t seem to need me, having someone around during the holidays must be a little better, right?” He continued flipping. Finally, he came to a drawing from the time they got together. There were no people in it, just the two ceramic figurines they had made. She wrote: “Our token of love.” “Even though he never said ‘I like you,’ we made figurines of each other, and he smiled when he looked at them. I guess that counts as understanding each other.” “I’ll keep these figurines safe.” “When we get married, have kids, and grow old together, I’ll take them out and show them to our grandchildren, tell them the story of their grandparents.” When he read this, his breath caught. He instinctively went to the living room to find the figurines. But when he reached the display cabinet, he suddenly remembered—they were already broken. Already shattered. His outstretched hand grasped at nothing. He finally collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
The western province was sealed off for seven days after the earthquake. During those days, Ethan did many things. He sent her countless texts and made countless calls. He even filed a missing person report. He contacted everyone she knew, but there was no news of her. He even went to her parents, but they didn’t even know she had gone to the western province or that she was in danger. He refused to believe that his Seraphina was dead. Every night, he locked himself in the room. He didn’t dare go anywhere, because everywhere in the house were traces of her. He saw the paintings on the wall and thought of her. He saw the ornaments on the table and thought of her. He saw the warm yellow throw pillow on the sofa and thought of her. He saw the