Happy families are all alike, but every unhappy family has its own unique misfortune.
In the bustling crowds at the train station, a slender woman rushed out hastily. She carried a shoulder bag, tightly gripping her phone. Her meticulously made-up face was as pale as paper, tears sparkled in her bright eyes, stubbornly refusing to fall.
"Driver, please hurry up." Sitting in the taxi, Tian Sangsang urged anxiously. Her phone was flooded with WeChat messages from colleagues, she skimmed through a few of them. To hell with the job, let it be lost! It doesn't matter.
Tian Sangsang's company had strict rules and regulations, not allowing any human errors or emergencies. Requests for leave or resignation had to be submitted in advance and approved by the leaders. But after receiving her younger brother's call, she hurriedly left her post. This job could not be saved; she knew that, but she didn't regret it. This was the third call from her brother, saying their father's condition in the hospital was worsening day by day and could collapse at any moment. She had been too busy to return home the first two times, but now, her brother's tone had given her a bad feeling. She had to return! Jobs can be found again, but she only had one father.
To ensure she wouldn't miss any updates, Tian Sangsang had set her phone to ringtone mode.
"Red beans grow in the southern lands—it's such a distant dream. What is yearning worth? It's long been forgotten."
The familiar melody rang out; it used to be a song Tian Sangsang was particularly fond of. But today, it felt like a death knell. A rush of tears suddenly streamed down her face. She stared blankly at the phone's caller ID — it was her younger brother. She hesitated to answer, fearful of hearing bad news.
"The ancient poets are hardest to forget, but yearning is the least worth remembering. Guarding love, afraid of ridicule, afraid of being truly seen…"
"Miss, your phone is ringing." The driver, hearing her ringtone go on and on, couldn't help but remind her. Yet through the mirror, he saw Tian Sangsang behind him, face wet with tears, her nose red from crying. He sighed deeply — ah, this world has no shortage of heartbreak. As a driver, he was used to encountering such sorrow.
Tian Sangsang sniffled, trembling as she decisively answered the call. Her voice was hoarse, "Xiao Ze."
"Sis!" From the other side of the phone came her little brother's uncontrollable sobs. He cried for a long time before finally saying, "Dad's gone."
Tian Sangsang's whole body trembled. She covered her mouth, letting tears flow freely. All her senses focused entirely on the voice from the other end of the line, "When did Dad pass away?"
"Five minutes ago. He went peacefully. Dad told me to tell you to work hard and not come back anymore. After all, he's lived a few years relying on medication—he was already very content. But Sis, if only… I wish Dad could've lived a few more years. Dad wasn't that old yet, neither of us have started families, he still hasn't held a grandchild..." By the time her younger brother reached the end, he was wailing uncontrollably.
I think the same. Tian Sangsang was beyond words, sobbing helplessly. Struggling against the pain, she ended the call and clumsily wiped her tears with her sleeve.
From a very young age, Tian Sangsang knew she couldn't afford to act recklessly. She bore the weight of her family's expectations, pushing herself desperately to study and achieve high scores for university admissions. When she was in her second year of high school, her father was diagnosed with leukemia. Unable to find a suitable donor for a bone marrow transplant, he could only rely on expensive medications to sustain his life. Leukemia was a difficult disease to treat, and the medication prices were astronomical — completely unaffordable for an average family. At that time, she had a younger brother still in elementary school and another brother born mentally challenged. Their family couldn't bear to abandon the child, so they cared for him for several years until they could no longer sustain it, eventually sending him to a local specialized hospital. After starting work, nearly all of Tian Sangsang's salary went into paying for her father's medical expenses. But even so, she couldn't save her father's life.
In the face of illness, life seemed both resilient and fragile; and in the face of life and death, everything felt utterly powerless.
Suddenly, a piercing car horn blared, followed by an intense collision. Tian Sangsang felt a sharp pain in her head, with warm, sticky liquid dripping down her face. Her world turned into an expanse of white...
Is this death? At least Mom still has my younger brother, thank goodness there's Xiao Ze to take care of her.
It felt like she slept for an eternity. Her entire body was in pain — weak and heavy. Tian Sangsang struggled to open her eyes.
"Ow!" Her head throbbed as though nails were being hammered into it, intensely painful.
Moved her hand — wait, no, she couldn't lift her hand.
Tried shifting her waist — wait, no, she couldn't move it either.
Maybe she had slept too deeply.
Hold on, didn't I get into a car accident? How am I still alive? Shouldn't I be in a hospital? Why, when I open my eyes, am I seeing a crude roof, dirt-patched walls, with the air mixed with the scent of gasoline?
Am I dreaming, transmigrating, or reincarnated?
Her intuition as an amateur writer signaled that transmigration or reincarnation was the more likely scenario.
Her round eyes suddenly widened. Tian Sangsang tried to crawl off the bed, using her hands and feet — wait, no, she couldn't crawl.
She was powerless, her body as limp as mud. Breathing was hard, her pulse quickened, her oxygen felt insufficient, her head felt like it was exploding — ache, dizziness — her vision sparked with stars. Neither her hands nor feet could move, what exactly was happening?
Nearly thirty years later, Tian Sangsang took a deep breath, rolled her eyes, but saw nothing beyond her lashes.
Her heavy head tilted to the side, catching sight of her arm — dark, murky black, evidently far thicker than her previously slender thighs had been.
Whoever owns these pig limbs, please for heaven's sake take them back home and don't leave them randomly on the bed, okay?
"Mommy~" A childish voice floated into Tian Sangsang's ears. "Mommy, wake up, okay? I'm so sorry. From now on, Mommy, you can eat Yanyan's buns. Yanyan will share them with you and won't hide them anymore. Mommy, don't be angry, alright?"
Mommy... Mommy?!
In utter shock, Tian Sangsang stared at the tiny figure no taller than the bed frame standing in front of her. Her vision swam as she rolled her eyes back and fainted.
Tian Sangsang dreamt of a long, long dream— one that revolved around a woman named Tian Sangsang.
Tian Sangsang, born in the 1960s, a child of the '60s generation. Her father was the eldest son of the Tian family, working as a butcher, and had married the "flower" of neighboring East Well Village, Tian Mother. After the marriage, the couple had been deeply affectionate, soon giving birth to their daughter, Tian Sangsang. But in rural communities, sons were valued over daughters. Tian Grandma had always favored her second and third sons over her eldest, and the eldest daughter-in-law's failure to bear additional children only made matters worse. Eventually, she forced the family to split and live separately.
Even in those days, as a butcher, Tian Father ensured his household was not destitute—though far from affluent, they weren't poor either. They had access to one of the rarest commodities: meat. Especially pork, to the point where they practically consumed it to exhaustion. Tian Father was kindhearted and filial; every now and then, he'd send some pork back to the main house. With only Tian Sangsang as their only child, her parents admittedly spoiled her more than other families might have. The consequence of such indulgent upbringing? Let's just say—it's a long story.