The pain came first.
A dull, splitting ache spread from the back of Mei Lin's head, as if someone had struck her with a wooden ladle. Her ears rang. Her throat felt dry. For a moment, she thought she was drowning again—back in that cold, black river, hands slipping, breath tearing apart.
Then she smelled smoke.
Not the choking smoke of fire, but the familiar scent of firewood and rice husks.
Mei Lin's eyes snapped open.
A low clay ceiling.
Cracked whitewashed walls.
A small wooden table by the window.
On the table—
Her pupils shrank.
The letter.
The same thin envelope.
The same official stamp.
The same words that had once dragged her away from her husband… and her child.
Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.
No… this is impossible.
She sat up too fast and hissed in pain. Her head throbbed, but the memories were sharper than any wound.
The flood.
The screams.
The ruined brigade.
Her husband bleeding in her arms.
Her daughter's cold, distant eyes when they met again years later.
Death.
She was dead.
So why was she here?
Before she could steady her breathing, angry voices erupted outside.
"Leave her! Divorce her already!"
"She eats, shops, and gives money to useless educated youths!"
"She doesn't work! She doesn't care about the child!"
"Our family raised you better than this!"
Mei Lin froze.
That voice—
Her mother-in-law.
Another, older, sterner voice followed.
"Ming Li, you are a teacher. You earn ninety yuan a month. You don't need a burden like her."
Her fingers dug into the quilt.
This day…
This was the day everything began.
In her last life, she had hidden in this room, clutching the letter, letting the scolding continue. She had accepted the divorce silently. She had walked away.
And she had spent the rest of her life paying for it.
Outside, a calm but tired male voice answered:
"Enough."
Her husband.
Ming Li.
Even after rebirth, hearing his voice made her chest tighten.
She swung her legs off the bed.
The door creaked as she pushed it open.
The courtyard fell into sudden silence.
Her mother-in-law stood stiffly near the well. Her father-in-law, the retired army general turned brigade secretary, frowned deeply. Ming Li stood beside them, tall and straight in his faded blue shirt, brows drawn together.
No one expected her to come out.
Mei Lin stepped forward.
Her voice was hoarse, but steady.
"I'm not divorcing."
The words dropped like a stone into water.
Her mother-in-law's eyes widened.
Her father-in-law stared.
Ming Li looked at her as if she had spoken in a foreign language.
Before anyone could respond, a small figure ran out from behind Ming Li.
"Mother!"
Her daughter.
The little girl clutched Mei Lin's leg tightly, eyes bright but afraid.
"Mother… pinky promise me you won't leave Father and me again."
That single sentence shattered her.
In her previous life, she hadn't even looked back.
Mei Lin knelt, pulled her daughter into her arms, and pressed her cheek against the child's soft hair.
"I promise," she whispered, voice breaking.
"Mother will never leave you again."
She hooked her little finger with her daughter's.
A pinky promise.
Ming Li watched from the side, his expression unreadable.
After a long moment, he spoke, quietly but firmly.
"Mei Lin, you don't need to act."
His eyes were tired. Guarded.
"It will only hurt her more."
He reached into his pocket and took out a cloth pouch, placing it on the table.
"Here is two thousand yuan. Everything I saved. I'll divorce you. This is compensation."
Her heart clenched.
In her last life, she had taken that money and left.
This time—
She gently put her daughter down.
Turned.
Walked back into the room.
Her in-laws exchanged looks. Ming Li frowned slightly.
She returned holding the letter.
Without hesitation, she tore it.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Paper fluttered to the ground like dead leaves.
The courtyard went dead silent.
Her father-in-law's pupils shrank.
Her mother-in-law staggered back a step.
Ming Li's breath caught.
Mei Lin bowed deeply.
"Father. Mother."
Her voice was calm, sincere, and heavy with regret.
"I was wrong before. I was selfish. I didn't cherish what I had."
She lifted her head and looked at Ming Li.
"But this time… I will take care of my husband. I will take care of my daughter. I will not leave."
Her father-in-law studied her for a long time.
Finally, he snorted.
"We'll see."
That was not approval.
But it wasn't rejection either.
---
That evening, Mei Lin cooked.
She opened the cupboard and felt her chest tighten.
Empty.
Most of the money she used to earn had gone to so-called educated youth friends—people who fed on her kindness and filled her head with dreams of escape.
Now, the family barely had anything.
She went into the small kitchen garden.
Cucumbers.
Eggplants.
Tomatoes.
She picked nine eggs.
Scrambled them with vegetables.
Cooked rice.
Simple. Plain.
When the dishes were placed on the table, her daughter's eyes lit up.
"Mother! This is better than Daddy's cooking!"
Ming Li paused mid-bite.
Mei Lin smiled faintly.
After dinner, she spoke softly.
"I want to work."
Ming Li's expression cooled instantly.
Here it comes.
She continued, carefully.
"New policies will come in three years. College exams will return. We need money—to study, to move to the city… to treat our daughter."
He misunderstood.
He thought she was preparing to leave again.
His jaw tightened.
"You can do whatever you want."
Distrust hung heavy between them.
That night, she slept with her daughter in her arms, listening to the quiet breathing she had missed for an entire lifetime.
This time, she swore silently,
I will protect everything.