Rebirth: Looking Back in a Sudden Realization - Chapter 4

When she slowly came to, Shao Chuyan found herself lying on a large bed, a bright crystal chandelier hanging overhead.

In front of her was Shao Yin’er’s pale yet delighted face, and beside her stood a blond, blue-eyed doctor. As soon as he saw her open her eyes, he bent down to check her pupils briefly, then straightened and spoke in English to Shao Yin’er:

“Miss Shao is fine. Just a mild concussion. A good night’s rest is all she needs.”

Shao Yin’er hurried forward and clasped Chuyan’s hands.
“Yanyan, how do you feel? Do you feel like throwing up?”

Chuyan’s dazed eyes grew wider and wider, but instead of confusion, they filled with radiant joy. Tears burst out instantly, and her slightly parted lips let out broken sobs. She struggled to sit up but lacked the strength, clutching tightly at Shao Yin’er’s warm hand as though afraid her mother might vanish if she let go.

Seeing her daughter’s panicked look, Shao Yin’er was alarmed. She quickly raised a hand to touch Chuyan’s forehead.
“Yanyan, what’s wrong? Do you hurt anywhere?” She turned in a rush to the doctor. “Dr. John, does she have a fever?”

Dr. John also found her reaction odd. He leaned down to check again.
“Her temperature is normal. She’s probably just frightened and needs proper rest.”

But Chuyan couldn’t care about any of that. She cried uncontrollably, so hard the tears blurred her mother’s face. She clung to her mother with all her strength, sobbing as though she could never stop.

Shao Yin’er bent down and gently embraced her, patting her shoulder softly.
“Yanyan, good girl. You’re just startled, it’s all right now. Mama’s here. Don’t cry.”

But Chuyan only cried harder—until suddenly she fainted.

Shao Yin’er leapt up in fright. Dr. John immediately pressed at the philtrum under her nose. After a tense moment, Chuyan slowly regained consciousness.

“Yanyan, what’s the matter with you? Have you lost your senses?” Shao Yin’er asked in panic.

Blinking, Chuyan stared blankly into the mist before her. When her vision cleared and she recognized her mother’s young face, tears gushed again. Realizing she had frightened both Dr. John and her mother, she struggled to wipe her tears and rasped hoarsely:

“Mama…”

But the word dissolved into more sobs. Crying and crying, she drifted off into a muddled sleep.

When she awoke again, daylight filled the room.

She was lying in bed alone. Looking around, she realized she was in a beautifully decorated, girlish bedroom. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, lace canopy curtains stirred with the breeze, and tree shadows swayed gently across her quilt. She even heard the flutter of birds’ wings outside.

She tried to sit up, but her head throbbed. Reaching back, her fingers found a swollen bump on her scalp. Bewildered, she remembered the terror of that last moment—being rescued but then hurled off a cliff. Yet now, she bore only this small injury? And what of the stranger who had saved her? Why had she seemed to see her mother? Had she already died and joined her?

She carefully examined her surroundings. It was a spacious suite. She lay on a round princess bed covered in a pale yellow velvet quilt. The metal-framed bed stood beside a white wood vanity lined with Hello Kitty figurines. By the window sat a baroque-style desk; opposite rose a tall bookshelf packed with shōjo manga and teen magazines.

Her teeth sank into her lip to stifle a scream. She was back in their old house in Shangcheng! But why did everything look so new? And last night, hadn’t she glimpsed her mother as a young woman? A long-lost sense of warmth and familiarity wrapped around her.

The door eased open. Shao Yin’er entered in a simple white silk robe, carrying a tray with warm milk and freshly baked bread.

The moment Chuyan saw her, she flung off the quilt, rushed barefoot across the floor, and threw herself into her mother’s arms, choking out:
“Mama!”

Shao Yin’er quickly shifted the tray to avoid spilling it.
“Yanyan, why are you out of bed? Careful—you’ll bump yourself!”

Feeling her mother’s warmth, Chuyan’s heart was still full of doubts, yet joy overwhelmed them. Then she suddenly noticed—she was shorter! Looking at her hands, she saw pudgy fingers. She glanced down at her chest, then at her legs, then up at her mother’s face, her heart pounding in alarm. In a panic she dashed to the dressing room.

Confused, Shao Yin’er set the tray on the tea table.
“Yanyan, don’t run! And why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

Chuyan stood before the mirror, staring at the chubby-cheeked girl reflected back. She blinked once, twice, stepped closer, and pressed her hand to the glass, palm against palm. She touched the lump on her head and winced at the pain—but her lips curved upward despite herself. No one in the world could be happier than she was now.

Shao Yin’er followed to the doorway, watching her daughter stand barefoot in a pink slip dress before the mirror, grinning foolishly. Relief softened her face at last.
“Miss Shao, come have breakfast.” she said gently.

Chuyan turned back and beamed at her mother.
“Mm!”

Shao Yin’er watched as her daughter obediently sat and drank down the milk. At last, the fear from last night eased from her heart.
“Yanyan, how did you fall in the bathroom last night?”

Chuyan lifted her eyes in confusion. That had happened more than ten years ago—how could she remember? She missed her mother’s homemade bread so much that she quickly grabbed a slice and began to devour it, shaking her head.
“I don’t know.”

A smile bloomed on Shao Yin’er’s face.
“Then don’t worry about it. How’s your body feeling?”

Chuyan set the bread down, eyes glowing with happiness.
“I’m fine. Just the bump on the back of my head hurts a little.”

Shao Yin’er nodded in relief, pressing a hand to her chest.
“Dr. John said it was nothing serious, but you scared me half to death.”

Chuyan only smiled sheepishly, chewing eagerly. To taste her mother’s bread again—it was the sweetest thing. She didn’t even notice the crumbs all over her clothes.

Shao Yin’er handed her a tissue.
“If you’re all right, then wash up later. We should leave early. I’ve asked Uncle Wu to take the luggage to the airport first. I was going to reschedule if you weren’t feeling well.”

She rose as she spoke.

At those words, Chuyan froze. She hadn’t even figured out what year it was. She grabbed her mother’s hand in panic.
“Tickets? Where are we flying to?”

Her mother looked puzzled.
“Did you forget? We have a nine o’clock flight to New York!”

Memories slammed into her. Yes—that’s right! Twelve years ago, the night before leaving for New York, she had slipped and fallen in the bathroom. Which meant this morning was the day of departure? She had gone back to 1999! No wonder she looked so small!

She glanced wildly around the room, then at her beautiful, youthful mother. Swallowing hard, she nervously asked the question that weighed most on her heart:
“Mama… where’s Xiaoyuan?”

Shao Yin’er blinked.
“Of course he’s in Jincheng.”

Chuyan’s eyes lit up. Then Father must still be alive too! Yet she asked again, uneasy:
“And Papa?”

Her mother touched her forehead, frowning.
“Why are you so muddle-headed? You don’t have a fever.”

Chuyan clutched her mother’s hand, heart pounding. Everything had to return to how it once was—nothing could change.
“Mama, where’s Papa?”

A little weary, Shao Yin’er sighed.
“Where else would he be? Of course he’s in Jincheng too.”

Chuyan’s little apple-round face flushed bright red. Tears spilled down as she whispered, “That’s wonderful… wonderful!”

Her mother rubbed her own temples, bewildered. Her clever, precocious daughter seemed silly after that fall.
“Yanyan, are you sure you’re all right?”

Chuyan wiped her tears quickly and grinned.
“I’m fine, really fine!”

Her mother nodded.
“Then tidy yourself up and make sure you haven’t left anything. We should head downstairs soon, or we’ll be stuck in traffic.”

Still giddy with joy, Chuyan suddenly realized—they were about to head for the airport, to board that flight to New York. She waved her hands in a rush.
“No! We’re not going!”

Her mother stared at her.
“What do you mean, not going?”

Clinging to her mother’s arm with forced childishness, Chuyan pouted.
“I mean I don’t want to go to New York.”

Shao Yin’er’s mouth fell open. After a moment, she stammered:
“Why not?”

Chuyan’s head ached. How could she explain? That if they went, her mother would live in regret, and eventually kill herself out of guilt for Xiaoyuan? No—she had to stop all of it. But what excuse could a thirteen-year-old use? A stomachache? Fear of not adapting abroad? She fumbled for words, panic in her eyes. To Shao Yin’er, she looked like a wounded little creature.

Her mother couldn’t help laughing softly. Since hitting puberty, her daughter rarely acted spoiled. It had been so long since she’d seen her look this adorable. Reaching out, she pinched Chuyan’s cheek with mock anger.
“You said you wanted to go, now you say you don’t. Which is it? Decide properly today!”

Chuyan decided to keep up the act, imitating her thirteen-year-old self. Puffing her cheeks, nodding and shaking her head, at last she blurted the truth.
“Mama, let’s not go. I don’t want to leave Xiaoyuan. I don’t want to leave Papa.”

Shao Yin’er’s eyes widened. She had never imagined her daughter would ever acknowledge Zhao Longhua, let alone willingly. She thought her daughter would never forgive him. Her own eyes grew damp. For hadn’t she too been reluctant to leave Xiaoyuan, to whom she owed so much? She dabbed at the corners of her eyes and clasped Chuyan’s soft hand.
“Whatever it is, we’ll face it together, you and I. If we don’t go, then we don’t go. There’s always a way.”

Tears fell onto their joined hands. Chuyan bit them back, hugging her mother tightly. So Mama hadn’t wanted to leave after all. The path she once thought she had to force open—the one she believed too hard to walk—wasn’t so terrible.

Her mother stroked her back gently.
“Since we’re not going, I’ll ask Uncle Wu to return the tickets.”

Chuyan nodded. After her mother went downstairs, she sank slowly onto the sofa, mind spinning. She must have been reborn—there could be no doubt. Before deciding her next move, she would first have to recall clearly what she was like at thirteen, adjust to this young body, and do her utmost to play the role of the thirteen-year-old Shao Chuyan.