White Peace said, “She’s sleeping so soundly. How long have you been holding her?”
The woman instinctively looked down at her hands.
Both hands were on the handlebars.
Only when White Peace asked did she suddenly realize she wasn’t holding the child.
She froze for a moment. Lifted her hand and touched her wrist.
There was a bruise on her wrist. Not a fresh one. It was from the moment of the explosion on the day of the Apocalypse when she threw herself onto the stroller. The last wound she had left behind when she was alive.
She stared at the bruise. She couldn’t quite remember.
She said quietly, “I… don’t remember how long I held her.”
White Peace said, “You’re tired too. Do you want to give the child to me? I’ll help you carry her home. You can rest.”
The woman was stunned.
“Home,” she repeated after her.
“Home.”
Her brow furrowed.
“Home is…”
She looked around.
For the first time, she started to look around.
She saw the swings. Saw the slide. Saw the merry-go-round with its broken necks. Saw the cracks in the rubber floor tiles. Saw the collapsed residential building in the distance.
Her brow knit tighter and tighter.
Her gaze slowly grew vacant.
“Home… my home is nearby. Right in this neighborhood. Out of the park gate, turn left, third building, fifth floor.”
As she spoke, she stopped on her own.
“No.”
She raised her hand and touched her face.
Cold.
Then she touched her neck.
Cold too.
Slowly, very slowly, she lowered her head and looked at the maternity clothes she was wearing.
They were clean. But she noticed a dark old stain on the chest area—the kind that doesn’t wash out. She hadn’t noticed it when she was alive. Only now, after death, did she have the time to see it clearly.
Blood. Her own blood.
She was silent for a long time.
She lifted her head and looked at White Peace. Her expression had changed. It wasn’t grief or fear.
It was the look of someone who was very, very old, exhausted to the point where she could finally stop.
She said, “…I’m dead.”
White Peace said, “Yeah.”
She looked at the stroller again. The canopy was half-lowered. The stiff, darkened little blanket was curled up inside.
She trembled.
Tears fell. But no sound came out. The tears dripped onto her maternity clothes, and the fabric quickly absorbed them.
She asked softly, “What about Xiao Man?”
White Peace didn’t answer.
She asked again. Her voice was shaking.
“What about Xiao Man?”
White Peace said, “You’ve been soothing her for a long time. She’s tired too. She left before you.”
She cried.
She cried very quietly.
She covered her mouth with both hands, not letting herself make a sound. Afraid of waking the child.
Between sobs, she said, “Then all this time… all this time I was soothing her for so long…”
White Peace said, “She heard it. Before that last second, she heard your voice. Then she fell asleep. She never woke up.”
The sound of crying leaked intermittently through her fingers.
About a minute passed.
She slowly lowered her hands, lifted her head, and looked at White Peace.
“Thank you.”
White Peace said, “Yeah.”
She said, “I pushed her for years. I thought she was still asleep. I thought I’d protected her. I thought the explosion was just a moment, and once it passed, everything would be fine.”
She laughed a little to herself.
“Actually, she never woke up, did she.”
White Peace said, “Yeah.”
She nodded. Took one last look at the stroller.
Bent down one last time toward the canopy, toward that stiff, darkened little blanket, and hummed a voiceless lullaby with a very light, very slow movement.
Xiao Man. Mommy has slept with you for so long. Now you be good. Mommy is tired too. Mommy is coming to keep you company.
When she finished humming, she lifted her head.
She smiled at Mu Yingying.
“Young lady, sorry to trouble you. Please help me push the stroller over to the shade of that tree over there. Xiao Man likes the shade.”
She pointed outside the park. At the edge of the rubber floor tiles, there was a small tree. Not one planted before the Apocalypse. It had grown up through the cracks in the tiles over the past few years. Only knee-high.
It was still alive.
Su Shuang’er nodded.
She scattered into ash.
Pink ash. The same color as her clothes.
The ash swirled for a moment and settled everywhere.
On the handlebars, on the seat, on that stiff little blanket. A gust of wind lifted half the canopy, revealing the blanket.
Right in the middle of the blanket, a Ghost Crystal condensed.
Very small. Barely bigger than a thumbnail.
Mu Yingying crouched down to pick it up. When she held it, the tips of her fingers were warm.
She clutched it in her palm. Didn’t speak.
Su Shuang’er walked over to the stroller, looked down at the blanket for a while.
Then she reached out to fold it.
The blanket was stiff. When she folded it, it crackled, like folding an old piece of cardboard. She folded it into a square and placed it back on the seat.
Then she pushed the stroller.
Along the rubber floor tiles to the little tree at the edge of the park. She stopped the stroller. Used her toe to hook the rear brake.
The first press didn’t go all the way down, so she pushed again.
It clicked into place.
She crouched there for a moment before standing up. Glanced at the little blanket inside the stroller.
In a very soft voice, she said one word.
“…Good girl.”
Then she walked back to the group.
As she came back, Mu Yingying saw that Su Shuang’er’s eyes were red. But she didn’t let the tears fall. She passed by Mu Yingying without lifting her head, directly took her own handlebars, and continued pushing White Night’s stroller.
Mu Yingying glanced at her. Didn’t ask.
The group left the park.
When they reached the path outside, Mu Yingying couldn’t help but look back.
That blue stroller sat quietly under the tree. The canopy half-lowered. The folded little blanket placed on the seat. When the wind passed, the canopy lifted slightly, then fell back.
There was no other movement in the park. The swing was still swaying. The three horses on the merry-go-round still had their necks broken. In the cracks of the rubber floor tiles, that little tree was still alive.
The stroller stayed there, together with the wind, the swing, the merry-go-round—like an old object forgotten in the park for years.
If a passerby didn’t know the story, they would probably think it was just a stroller abandoned in the park on the day the Apocalypse happened. Nothing more.
Several hundred meters away.
White Night spoke softly from the bike basket. Her voice was light.
“An’an.”
“Yeah.”
“That Xiao Man…” She thought about how to say it, but couldn’t find the words.
White Peace said, “She was three months old when she died.”
White Night paused.
“When she was alive—” White Peace started, then changed her mind mid-sentence, “At that last moment, she threw herself toward the stroller. She had to feel like she’d protected her. If she didn’t feel that way, she couldn’t have gotten through that second.”
She didn’t say anything else. Walked several steps.
“So she kept soothing her afterward.”
White Night said, “Does she know now?”
“At the very end, she knew.”
White Night was silent for a moment.
Then said softly, “That’s good. She can go find Xiao Man now.”
After walking the small path through the park, they turned onto a long street.
It must have been the main road of the old neighborhood. Shops lined both sides at the community entrances, but now everything had collapsed.
Only one two-story concrete building was still standing. It had a faded sign.
Blue background with white lettering: Guifang Shop.
Beside the characters, there was a hand-drawn smiley face. Two circles for eyes, an upward curved line for a mouth. Most of the neon lights were broken, but half of them were still lit.
The two characters that were still glowing were “Guifang.”
On the entire street, this was the only light still on.
Su Shuang’er stopped pushing the stroller. She looked at the sign.
“There’s a shop still open?”
White Peace didn’t answer.
She was already walking toward the shop.
The group followed. As they got closer, they could see the glass door had been wiped clean. Behind the counter, a white-haired old lady was dozing with her head on the counter.
Mu Yingying was stunned.
She said quietly, “…There are still living people here?”
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