Chapter 17: Unfathomable
Sanctuary Hall Specialty Store.
An Tong entered slowly, her hands tucked into the outer pocket of her sweatshirt, while Su Ji lagged two steps behind, pausing by the shelf at the entrance to speak quietly on the phone.
The shop owner, a man in his sixties, spotted An Tong and tapped his dry tobacco pipe against the table. “Little An, you’re here.”
“Uncle Xu.”
She greeted him, taking a black plastic bag and preparing to gather offerings.
Uncle Xu squinted as he drew on his pipe, his tone casual as if chatting idly, “Your second uncle Xu mentioned not long ago that he hasn’t seen you in ages. No one knows where your father is these days, and his old colleagues have been asking after you. Little An, life is about moving forward. There are still many people who care about you.”
An Tong stood motionless before a lantern, unresponsive for a good while.
Uncle Xu remained seated in his old armchair, leisurely smoking, as though he hadn’t noticed anything unusual.
The hall was uncannily quiet, so much so that Su Ji sensed something amiss the moment she stepped inside.
She nodded at Uncle Xu with a smile. “Old man, you really should cut back on the smoking. The whole place is thick with it.”
“It’s a habit I can’t break,” Uncle Xu waved her off, taking a few more heavy puffs, though his clouded eyes kept a constant watch on An Tong.
Su Ji exchanged a few perfunctory quips with Uncle Xu, then moved to An Tong’s side. She gently caught her hand. “What are you daydreaming about? Have you picked everything you need?”
When An Tong didn’t respond, Su Ji grew anxious, subtly pulling her closer, both shielding her from Uncle Xu’s gaze and distracting him with small talk.
Just then, as Su Ji wracked her brain for a solution, the puppy in An Tong’s pocket began to squirm and whimper restlessly.
Animals are keenest to scents and moods; the little thing kept butting its head out, its cries sharper than ever.
Worried that Uncle Xu might notice, Su Ji grabbed the pup by the scruff and held it up to An Tong’s face. “Look, is it hungry?”
The puppy dangled in the air, scrabbling its tiny paws—one of which, by chance, scratched An Tong’s chin. The moment brought her back to herself, and she looked around in confusion. “Hm? What is it?”
Su Ji’s heart pounded as she lifted the puppy in front of her again. “It’s hungry.”
A moment earlier, An Tong had briefly experienced a dissociative episode; fortunately, it had passed quickly, and Uncle Xu assumed she was simply lost in sad thoughts.
Collecting herself, An Tong glanced at the puppy and croaked, “Don’t hold it like that—it’s uncomfortable.”
Su Ji thought, exasperated—she could barely look after herself, and she still worried about the puppy’s comfort?
An Tong set down the plastic bag, took the pup into her arms and stroked its fur, her gaze complicated.
The little creature seemed to sense her distress.
Its sharp cries and the scratch had snapped her back to awareness.
Though her chin hurt, it was a rare blessing for An Tong.
Before, whenever these episodes struck, she was numbed to the world: she could not feel heat or cold, could not move, lost all sense of pain, her consciousness adrift and vague.
But this time, she had felt pain—and with it, managed to break free.
Perhaps the therapy was working, and her puppy, An An, deserved credit as well.
…
After shopping, An Tong and Su Ji left the Sanctuary Hall one after another.
Uncle Xu saw them out, watching their car disappear down the road before heaved a long sigh.
He returned inside and made a phone call. “Second Brother, Little An came by today.”
“…”
“She didn’t say much, just bought some offerings and left.”
“…”
“I tried to sound her out. I’m pretty sure she knows nothing. My advice: let it go. Back then, Old An was ruthless—left her behind and vanished. Even if you met her, you wouldn’t get anything out of her.”
The person on the other end grumbled a few words, and Uncle Xu chuckled wryly. “No point complaining to me. Anyway, if An Tong knew where her father was, she’d have gone to find him already. Why would you need to beat around the bush?”
With that, the line went dead.
Uncle Xu glanced at his phone, shaking his head in dissatisfaction.
The older one gets, the softer the heart becomes.
Especially seeing An Tong like this—anyone would feel sympathy and pity.
…
That afternoon, a red SUV returned to Yunhai Road.
Because An Tong had shown symptoms earlier, Su Ji was uneasy and insisted on coming home with her.
“How many days off did you take?”
In the living room, An Tong prepared formula for the puppy as she asked.
Su Ji bowed deeply with incense before the shrine, then placed the sticks in the censer. “I’ll leave tomorrow afternoon.”
An Tong said nothing, hugging her knees as she squatted on the floor, watching An An eat.
Finishing her prayers, Su Ji came over and studied An Tong’s delicate profile. “Don’t take what Old Xu said to heart.”
“Mm, I won’t.”
Su Ji propped her chin on her hand, flicking An Tong’s upturned nose. “My mom called this morning, asked when you’d come over for dinner. She misses you so much she’s lost her appetite.”
A faint, gentle smile tugged at An Tong’s lips. “Let’s wait until you’re back next time.”
“Alright, I’ll let her know.”
Watching Su Ji send a message, An Tong hesitated, then asked, “Where are you shooting this time?”
“Sui City—Peach Blossom Valley.”
An Tong quietly took note, then drifted into thought, as if planning something.
…
The next day, clouds hung low.
In the solemn, dignified cemetery on the western outskirts, An Tong carefully wiped the dust from a tombstone with a towel. Su Ji stood quietly behind her, keeping her company.
The inscription read: Beloved Wife Xie Miaohua, Beloved Son An Xi.
It was a mother and son’s grave.
Su Ji didn’t intrude, waiting below the steps once An Tong finished cleaning.
As she had for every important memorial day these past three years, she accompanied An Tong in silence.
Gradually, a fine rain began to fall.
An Tong knelt before the grave, speaking softly of her longing and the changes in her life.
She spoke for over an hour.
Su Ji, too, stood in the rain without an umbrella, heart aching with sorrow.
An Tong had survived because her mother and brother protected her with their lives. Of the eighteen people in that accident, seventeen perished; only An Tong survived.
People always criticized her for being gloomy and withdrawn, eccentric in temperament. No one wanted to engage with her, let alone understand the trauma she had endured.
Only Su Ji knew: when An Tong awoke in a pool of blood, her mother lay dead beside her, and her brother lingered on the edge of death.
That day, as An Xi’s life ebbed away, he spoke his last words: “Sis, are you okay? I want to go home…”
…
On the way back, the air in the car was heavy and stifling.
An Tong didn’t cry, but Su Ji, in the passenger seat, sobbed so hard she could barely breathe; she couldn’t even drive.
Empathy, born of shared pain, overwhelmed her.
By noon, the rain had stopped.
After changing into clean, dry clothes, An Tong drove Su Ji to the airport.
Before parting, Su Ji straightened An Tong’s collar. “The three years of mourning are over. Try not to wear black anymore. You’re still young—live with some spirit.”
“Mm, I know.”
Su Ji set off for Mo City again. It wasn’t until the plane took off that she realized, with a start, An Tong had never once told her where she’d driven that day.
…
The past few days, An Tong had stayed home with her puppy. With the weekend upon her, she went to the magazine office to catch up on a backlog of manuscripts.
Saturday evening, the streets bustled with traffic.
An Tong left the building, a few magazines in her arms, walking quietly through the cold wind and slanting sunlight.
The sidewalk was strewn with fallen plane tree leaves. As An Tong appeared, the rear window of a black sedan by the curb rolled down ten centimeters.
“That’s her?”
The bodyguard, Archie, replied in a strong voice, “Yes, Madam.”
Madam Rong frowned at him. “Lower your voice, I can hear you just fine.”
Archie lowered his tone, explaining earnestly, “Madam, even we couldn’t find any leads on Miss An. Her background must be extremely mysterious.”
Madam Rong fingered her prayer beads thoughtfully, her eyes bright with shrewdness. “Not being able to find anything doesn’t mean she’s mysterious. Maybe someone deliberately hid her.”
“Well…” Archie hesitated, still preferring to trust Ninth Master’s words that there’s always someone higher up. “At the very least, it shows Miss An’s background is much deeper than most.”
Even the Rong family was at a loss; to call it unfathomable was no exaggeration.
From behind the window, Madam Rong studied An Tong as she drifted away. The young woman was attractive, but her plain attire revealed nothing of her origins.
Still, to make Xiao Jiu regard her differently, she must have some extraordinary qualities.
“Let’s go,” Madam Rong said irritably, pressing her brow as she raised the window. “Call and ask where Xiao Jiu is, and let’s go find him.”