Happy people were much alike; unhappy people each had their own hardships.
People came and went through the hospital lobby. Bai Fang stared at the test results in her hands, unable to speak for a long time.
Congenital patent ductus arteriosus, mild intellectual disability induced by intracranial injury-by comparison, the malnutrition and soft tissue contusions seemed much less significant.
Illnesses like these in a child of five or six were enough to destroy an ordinary family.
Bai Fang knew she had picked up a great deal of trouble.
But the child looked at her so pleadingly that she could not bring herself to leave.
"Call me Mom," Bai Fang said, crouching down. "And I'll take you home."
The child bit his finger. A wound from who knew when had turned white with saliva. He blinked without speaking.
"Will you say it or not?" Bai Fang asked again, unwilling to give up.
The child wiped his hand on his clothes, leaving a dark streak on the fabric.
See? They were not destined to be mother and son.
Bai Fang stopped looking at him and took the little money she had left after the tests out of her pocket. After searching for a while, she discovered his clothes had no pockets, so she pulled out his waistband and tucked it inside.
"I can't help it either. My son's still waiting for me. At least this is a hospital. They'll find somewhere for you, even an orphanage. That's better than starving to death with me."
Bai Fang rambled on, trying to erase her guilt. After hiding the money for him, she stood and strode away.
The child stood there for a while, his gaze caught by something shiny on someone nearby, and could not help following them.
But after just two steps, he