[Translation] Stray Dog Bones (野狗骨头) by Xiu Tu Cheng (休屠城): Chapter 2: If You Tell Anyone, I'll Kill You

 

Before the age of eight, Miao Jing lived in Z Province.

Her hometown was a small mountain town located at the boundary between north and south China. Mountain ranges stretched endlessly into the distance. The four seasons were distinct—cold winters and hot summers.

Her parents had long since divorced.

The only family photograph she possessed had been taken when she was two years old.

In front of a studio backdrop stood a family of three, all wearing blank expressions. She was a tiny child in a tacky peach-pink dress, a red dot painted between her brows, staring blankly into the camera. On either side stood her parents, their faces blurred by time, yet even through that blur one could still glimpse traces of their youthful beauty and handsomeness.

Not long after that photo was taken, the family fell apart.

Miao Jing stayed with her mother, Wei Mingzhen. Soon afterward, she was sent to live with her grandmother in the countryside, growing up in a small village.

Wei Mingzhen had married because of an unplanned pregnancy. She was only in her early twenties then, working as a sales clerk in a clothing store in town. Pretty and fond of having fun, she never lacked admirers, divorced or not, and had little interest in focusing her attention on her daughter.

A few years later, the wave of migrant labor swept across China. Wei Mingzhen followed a boyfriend to the coast for work. Every time she returned home, she was fashionable and glamorous, bringing money for her mother. It wasn't much, but it was enough to support Miao Jing.

There should also have been child support from her biological father.

At first, there was.

But after a couple of years, her father moved to Xinjiang, remarried, and started a new family. As the distance grew, he gradually severed ties with his hometown and eventually stopped sending both news and money.

There were relatives on her grandmother's side, but they had their own troubles and contact faded away long ago.

So Miao Jing largely grew up by herself.

Wei Mingzhen remained away until her grandmother died of illness.

At that point, Miao Jing was about to start elementary school and was promptly sent to live with her aunt in town. Her aunt had a daughter and a son around her age. The three attended the same school and were considered playmates.

The years spent depending on her grandmother had been warm but brief.

Because she was so young, many memories had faded.

Living at her aunt's house, however, was different.

By then she was old enough to remember things.

Whether because she was overly sensitive or for some other reason, it was not a particularly happy period.

Her aunt never abused or mistreated her.

The family was simply ordinary, struggling to make ends meet.

There was always a sense of distance.

Her cousin and younger cousin both wore house keys around their necks.

Only Miao Jing had no key.

Whenever nobody was home, no matter how long it took, she had to sit outside and wait.

The memory that remained clearest happened when her aunt's family suddenly returned to the countryside for a funeral.

They forgot that Miao Jing didn't have a key.

After school, she sat outside hungry until nine o'clock at night.

A neighbor eventually noticed and took her home to sleep.

When her aunt's family returned and learned she had spent the night at a neighbor's house, they didn't offer a single word of comfort.

At family meals, she never had a chance to join conversations.

The best food never reached her bowl.

Sharing a room with her cousin, she felt more like a personal maid than family.

She always took second place.

Fetching things.

Passing things around.

Washing dishes.

Sweeping floors.

When the siblings fought over television programs, she could only watch from the sidelines.

Choice was never hers.

After her grandmother died, Wei Mingzhen came home even less frequently.

But the money she sent increased.

Miao Jing wore only her cousin's old clothes and shoes.

Everyone thought it was natural for a younger girl to wear hand-me-downs from her older cousin.

Fortunately, one winter, Wei Mingzhen came back.

Dressed elegantly from head to toe, she noticed the worn cotton shoes on Miao Jing's feet. They were so damaged that her toes nearly poked through. Frostbite covered her cheeks, ears, hands, and feet.

People always said Miao Jing liked playing with cold water and hated wearing enough clothes.

The truth was the opposite.

Mother and daughter were alike.

Both hated the cold.

Their hometown winters were harsh, often snowy. There was no heating and no air conditioning. People survived only by burning coal stoves.

Although their relationship was distant, when Wei Mingzhen saw that small, cold face drooping with misery, she couldn't help feeling heartache.

After all, she was still her mother.





Wei Mingzhen had never remarried.

Over the years, she relied heavily on various men to support her comfortable lifestyle. She hadn't saved much money. Her beauty was no longer as fresh as it had been in her twenties.

Still, she knew how to present herself.

Lipstick.

Fashionable dresses.

A mature feminine charm.

As she grew older, she began thinking seriously about finding a good man to spend the rest of her life with.

Looking at Miao Jing, she suddenly thought:

Perhaps she should bring her daughter along too.

Otherwise, Miao Jing might resent her.

Finding the right man wasn't easy.

There were practical considerations and standards to meet.

After spending several months in her hometown, Wei Mingzhen suddenly traveled to a place called Tengcheng.

There, she met a man she had gotten to know through mobile chat.

He lived in a city farther south than Z Province, in a region with a stronger economy.

The two got along exceptionally well, almost like soulmates.

The man had decent circumstances.

He owned an apartment.

He held a stable government-sector job.

He was educated.

Good-looking too.

Miao Jing had seen his photograph.

A refined and gentle-looking middle-aged man.

Wei Mingzhen stayed in Tengcheng for a month.

When she returned, she looked radiant.

Ecstatic.

She immediately began packing Miao Jing's belongings.

All of the old padded jackets inherited from her cousin were discarded.

"Tengcheng has a great climate," she said.

"Long summers and mild winters. You won't need these."

She tossed the clothes in front of Miao Jing's aunt.

Embarrassed, the aunt later bought Miao Jing an expensive, beautiful dress as a farewell gift.





Mother and daughter packed their few possessions and boarded a train toward an unfamiliar city and an unfamiliar family.

It was Miao Jing's first train ride.

Her first time leaving her province.

The old green train passed through one dark tunnel after another among towering mountains.

She would hold her breath and wait patiently for light to reappear.

Then the train would burst into brightness again, racing toward vast unknown places.

She fell in love with travel.

The endless variety of people.

The accents from every corner of the country.

The fragrant instant noodles.

The peanuts and sunflower seeds sold from rolling carts.

Foreign stations where the train paused briefly.

The scenery rushing past faster and faster.





Tengcheng.

The trees here were huge, twisted, and luxuriant.

Everything grew easily.

Flowers bloomed for long periods.

The humid air carried a strange scent that occasionally gave way to a faint sweetness on the wind.

Miao Jing tugged at her dress.

The heat dried the sweat on her skin only for another layer of sticky humidity to wrap around her moments later.

No one came to meet them.

Mother and daughter took a taxi.

Eventually, they arrived in a bustling residential neighborhood.

Holding Miao Jing's hand with one hand and pulling a suitcase with the other, Wei Mingzhen walked proudly toward a five-story apartment building while passersby whispered among themselves.

Miao Jing still remembered that scene vividly.

Everyone seemed to stop and stare.

Her mother had dyed blond hair, a leopard-print dress, black stockings, and high-heeled sandals.

Like a peacock showing off its feathers.

Miao Jing wore a white sleeveless dress patterned with tiny purple flowers. Her ponytail was tied with a hairband decorated with two shiny pearl beads.

A ribbon at the back formed a bow.

The skirt had three layers.

Purple trim edged the hem.

Looking in the mirror, even she had been startled by how pretty she looked.

Wei Mingzhen led her upstairs and knocked on the door of the second-floor apartment.

A man answered.

Thin and gentle-looking.

High nose bridge.

Large double eyelids.

Upon seeing them, he smiled warmly and helped carry in their luggage.

"You're here. Welcome."

Wei Mingzhen discreetly nudged Miao Jing.

"Hello, Uncle."

"Good girl."

The apartment had two bedrooms and a living room.

The bedrooms faced east.

The balcony faced west.

Kitchen, bathroom, and living room sat in between.

The layout felt spacious.

Miao Jing had only ever lived in single-story houses.

The wooden floors and refrigerator outside the kitchen seemed strangely luxurious to her.

Inside one bedroom sat a white machine with a keyboard and speakers.

Music blasted from it.

Seeing Miao Jing staring, Wei Mingzhen explained proudly:

"Your Uncle Chen is a computer fanatic. Once he sits down in front of a computer, he can't pull himself away."

Having already spent a month investigating the household, Wei Mingzhen behaved like the lady of the house.

She told Miao Jing to change shoes, wash her hands, sit on the sofa, and then went to boil water for tea while discussing lunch plans.

The man was polite.

He turned on the television and handed the remote control to Miao Jing.

While chatting, he introduced himself.

His name was Chen Libin.

He worked for the power bureau.

His wife had died several years earlier.

He had a son named Chen Yi, two years older than Miao Jing and currently in fourth grade.

Since Miao Jing would now be living with them, he had already arranged her transfer to the same elementary school.

She nodded obediently.

"Okay."

"I understand."

"Thank you, Uncle."

Soon afterward, Chen Libin returned to his room and sat down at the computer.

Wei Mingzhen carried him a cup of tea and sat on the armrest beside him.

They whispered together.

Then the bedroom door closed.

Leaving Miao Jing alone in the living room.

She quietly studied the apartment.

The housekeeping was somewhat careless, yet details hinted at the former mistress of the house.

Elegant teapots and cups.

An embroidered television cover with delicate tassels.

Blurred paintings hanging on the walls.

Several cute porcelain dolls left forgotten in dusty cabinets.

The traces of the previous woman still lingered everywhere.





Later, Wei Mingzhen emerged from the room, adjusting her permed hair.

Chen Libin remained at the computer.

She explained that he was trading stocks and asked whether Miao Jing wanted to accompany her downstairs to buy prepared food.

Miao Jing was absorbed in the television.

By the time she realized the door had closed, her mother was already gone.

Their first meal was eaten at home.

Prepared dishes.

Home-cooked stir-fries.

A bottle of liquor.

Just as everyone was about to begin eating, the front door opened.

A boy walked in, drenched in sweat from playing outside.

Standing in the doorway while changing shoes, he glanced at the people in the room, blinked once, and showed no surprise at all.

Instead, he casually grabbed a bowl and sat down.

He was a handsome boy.

Wearing a white short-sleeved shirt stained with dust and sweat.

When his long eyelashes lowered, he seemed oddly clean and innocent.

But when he looked up, his eyes revealed something entirely different.

Wild.

Unruly.

Hard as stone.

The kind of child nobody wanted to provoke.

"This is my son, Chen Yi."

"Hello, big brother."

"Just call her Miao Jing."

Chen Yi chewed roasted chicken bones loudly, spitting fragments directly onto the table with complete disregard for manners.

Chen Libin drank quietly beside him.

Wei Mingzhen smoothly steered the conversation elsewhere and encouraged everyone to eat.

At the time, Miao Jing wasn't particularly attractive.

Her hair was dry and yellowish.

Her body thin and frail.

She carried herself like a prematurely old woman.

Yet her eyes were beautiful.

Clear and tranquil, like a still spring.

Unlike Wei Mingzhen's flashy beauty, Miao Jing possessed the features of someone who would grow prettier with age.





Miao Jing was eight.

Chen Yi was ten.

She was in second grade.

He was in fourth.

The age difference was less than two years—only sixteen months.

Chen Yi's birthday was December 24.

Miao Jing's was April 19 two years later.

He had started school a year early because he had been exceptionally intelligent during entrance assessments.





There were only two bedrooms.

Miao Jing had to share one with Chen Yi.

Fortunately, the room was rectangular and reasonably large.

A second bed was added.

The two beds were separated by a desk.

A curtain divided the space.

Miao Jing occupied the area by the window.

Chen Yi slept closer to the door.

The wardrobe and desk were split equally.

Clear boundaries.

Clear territories.

After the adults finished assigning space, Miao Jing unpacked her few belongings.

She opened a desk drawer near her bed to store her notebooks and school supplies.

Chen Yi happened to be in the room.

The moment he saw her open the drawer, he strode over.

His eyes turned cold.

Without warning, he kicked her hard in the calf.

Pain exploded through her leg.

Tears instantly sprang to her eyes.

She collapsed sideways against the desk.

A cry escaped her lips—

Only to be smothered immediately.

Chen Yi clamped a hand over her mouth.

In the living room, Chen Libin and Wei Mingzhen were talking.

Miao Jing could smell his hand.

Rust.

Mud.

Rotting garbage.

Grass roots.

Roast chicken.

A disgusting mixture.

He leaned close to her ear.

His voice emerged through clenched teeth.

Cold.

Threatening.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

Miao Jing's thin body trembled uncontrollably.





That night, after everyone had showered and gone to bed, both bedroom doors were closed.

Using the moonlight filtering through the window, Miao Jing slowly rubbed the dark bruise on her leg.

She lay stiffly in bed, unable to sleep.

Turning over, she peered through a gap in the curtain.

Chen Yi lay on his side.

His head was covered by a blanket.

His back faced her.

He wore a white undershirt and knee-length shorts.

His body curled inward.

The bones of his shoulders protruded sharply.

Thin.

Angular.

Like a silent mountain in the darkness.