The Fifth Blood Orange

The bus engine rumbled noisily, churning up dust as the ticket seller, seated by the window, counted the day's take. She glanced at the passenger load and smiled with satisfaction. Her gaze drifted downward and landed on a girl with her hair pinned up, adorned with a red flower.

Liao Xue stood with one foot on the bus step and the other on the ground, caught halfway. Her eyes burned with anxiety as she scanned the distance, as if waiting for someone.

The ticket seller clicked her tongue in annoyance. Her least favorite part of the job was dealing with difficult passengers.

"Hey, little miss, are you getting on or not? If not, we're leaving without you."

Liao Xue's hand clenched around her phone, the screen still on the call screen. The contact name read "President Shen," and the call had been ringing endlessly with no answer.

After the automated message—"Please try again later" followed by a string of English—Liao Xue redialed, patient as ever.

She called and called, her gaze fixed on the mountain road, lush and green, but empty.

The time on her phone read 8:15. They were already well past the time she and Shen Qiancheng had agreed on.

Could Shen Qiancheng have overslept? Should she go to the Village Chief's house to wake her?

"Just five more minutes," Liao Xue muttered, her lips dry and cracked. She stared intently at the mountain path, imagining Shen Qiancheng rushing over, yawning and flustered.

But the person she hoped for never appeared. Instead, a raucous crowd marched into view.

The moment she recognized who they were, Liao Xue's expression shifted. Grabbing the handrail, she scrambled up the steps in three quick strides, abandoning her earlier anxious waiting and urging the ticket seller, "I'm getting on. Depart now."

The ticket seller found it hard to comprehend the girl's sudden about-face. She held out her hand flatly. "Fare."

Liao Xue froze. "How much?" she stammered.

The ticket seller waved a bill. "Ten yuan to town."

Ten yuan!

Liao Xue's hand unconsciously tightened, digging into the black rubber grip on the handrail.

She didn't have a single cent on her, let alone ten yuan.

Liao Xue took a deep breath. "Can I owe it? I'll have money once I get to town."

Once she saw Shen Qiancheng, she'd have money. That was the only thought looping through her mind.

As long as she met up with Shen Qiancheng, everything would be fine.

Shen Qiancheng was like Liao Xue's backbone. Without her presence, Liao Xue's head lifted in tense, desperate breathing.

When he heard she had no money to ride, the ticket seller stood, yanking away the handrail Liao Xue was gripping. Expressionless, he said, "No money, no ride. Driver, let's go."

The driver replied, "You got it."

With surprising strength, the ticket seller shoved Liao Xue off the bus. She lost her balance and landed hard on her rear.

As the bus rumbled away, Mother Liao's palm cracked across Liao Xue's face.

"You little tramp! You dared deceive me? You think you can run?!"

Before Liao Xue could react, Mother Liao grabbed the hair Liao Xue had styled since dawn, yanking it back with a ferocious face. The pain brought tears to Liao Xue's eyes.

Mother Liao's chest heaved. Her face, twisted with rage, looked like a demon from the eighteenth level of hell as her fists rained down on Liao Xue's face.

But Liao Xue felt nothing. Her eyes, desolate and hollow, stared at the villagers who had gathered to watch the spectacle.

The Village Chief hadn't caught up with the main group. By the time he arrived, Liao Xue had been beaten until her face was swollen like a pig's head. She knelt in misery, numb to Mother Liao's blows and curses.

Mother Liao was repaying every moment she'd had to kowtow to Liao Xue over the past few days.

The Village Chief's Wife saw the scene and rushed over, pulling Mother Liao and Liao Xue apart. Glaring at Mother Liao, she shouted, "Mother of Shen Jun's family! This is your own daughter!"

Only then did the villagers step in to mediate, grabbing Mother Liao's arms to stop her from charging at Liao Xue again.

Even held back, Mother Liao kicked out, trying to land a few more blows on Liao Xue.

"You ungrateful bitch! Thinking of running away with another slut? Ha! She's gone. She ditched you!"

The Village Chief's Wife dusted off Liao Xue's clothes, heart aching at the sight. She cupped Liao Xue's face and pressed it to her chest.

But the girl who had been motionless through the beating bolted up like a leopard springing to hunt. In a flash, she charged at Mother Liao and slapped her across the face, twice, with open palms.

"I won't believe a single word you say! I'm not going back with you!"

Mother Liao had raised Liao Xue for years, and this was the first time the girl had ever struck her—and with slaps, such a demeaning gesture, and in front of so many familiar faces.

Mother Liao spat on the ground. "Ask anyone here! Did she leave or not? Did she leave you behind, huh?!"

Liao Xue stared into Mother Liao's eyes. She had lived with the woman for years and could tell when she was lying—like when Mother Liao said, "This is the last chicken leg, and you and your younger brother haven't eaten—shouldn't you give it to him? You're the best big sister, right?" That was a lie, and in the face of such lies, Liao Xue chose to treat them as truth. It was easier on her heart. But this time, it didn't seem like a lie—and she didn't want to believe it true either, because it would tear her apart.

The two stopped fighting, and the villagers slowly released Mother Liao.

Mother Liao stood triumphant, looking down at Liao Xue as the loser.

Liao Xue's face remained calm, but inside, a storm was raging.

Right. Why was it past eight-thirty when they'd agreed on eight? Why did the Village Chief and his wife show up, but not Shen? Even if she'd slept like the dead, all this commotion would have woken her.

The Village Chief's Wife crossed her arms and caught Liao Xue's eye as she scanned the crowd.

A few days ago, Liao Xue and President Shen had fought, and Liao Xue had gone home alone, never returning. The next time she heard about Liao Xue was when Mother Liao arranged a marriage for her.

Given Mother Liao's nature, it couldn't be a decent match. And indeed, she was marrying Liao Xue off to a simpleton!

But she was an outsider—she couldn't interfere. All she could do was hint at it to President Shen, hoping that even if they'd fought, given how close they'd been, she might lend a hand.

President Shen had coldly turned her down, saying she didn't want to hear Liao Xue's name anymore.

Then today, President Shen had left early in the morning without telling anyone.

And Liao Xue had shown up at the station.

The Village Chief's Wife's mind churned like a pot of glue. She only heard Liao Xue ask, with a glimmer of hope in her eyes, "President Shen… she really left?"

The Village Chief's Wife nodded reluctantly. For some reason, her nose stung, and she felt like crying.

Liao Xue's eyes flickered. She clutched the woman's hand, pressing, "Did she go ahead to find a place and settle in, so I can join her there?"

This… The Village Chief's Wife shot a helpless glance at the Village Chief. He stepped forward and patted Liao Xue's shoulder. "She didn't say. A friend of President Shen's picked her up. She drove off without a word."

Liao Xue's voice faded. "She didn't mention me?"

The Village Chief shook his head along with his wife.

It felt like a bolt of ten thousand volts struck her heart, turning the bloody, beating organ to ash in an instant.

Liao Xue struggled for breath, too weak to speak. She whispered over and over, "Impossible… Impossible… We agreed… How could she leave me alone? Just me, alone now… alone…"

The Village Chief's Wife, standing close, wept too.

They were both children born to suffering.

Mother Liao puffed out her chest like a rooster greeting the morning sun. She strutted over to Liao Xue, hoisted her up, and dragged her away.

The Village Chief's Wife started to reach out but was stopped by a glare and a headshake from the Village Chief, her hand freezing midair.

Right. She was just an outsider.

Liao Xue was led home to the Liao household, numb and lifeless. After everything that had happened, it was only nine o'clock.

Liao Xue's face was swollen high. Mother Liao regretted not beating her body instead. Now that her face was so marred, who knew if the other party would be put off.

The more Mother Liao looked, the angrier she got. She told the makeup artist to apply extra layers of product to cover the marks.

The makeup artist had thought she was done for the day when she heard the bride had run off. In rural areas, brides forced into marriage escaping wasn't uncommon. She'd figured this was another elopement case and she'd be off, but they'd dragged the girl back, and now she had to work after all.

She carried her makeup case into the inner room. That morning, she'd seen the bride—thin, pale, and looking like an easy pushover. But now, the bride's face was twice its size from the beating, and her eyes were vacant, staring at nothing like the most unhinged patient in a mental hospital corridor who looks normal but is the craziest of all.

The makeup artist felt a chill of fear. She raised a hand in greeting. "Um… hi, we met this morning. I'm the makeup artist…"

Liao Xue lifted her eyes like a robot, then looked away just as mechanically. Still and unreadable, like a ghost bereft of reason.

The makeup artist was thoroughly spooked, barely daring to breathe. She lowered her trembling hand and forced a smile that was uglier than crying. "We can do the makeup now, right?"

At least she'd glanced at me a moment ago, but now she didn't move at all. The makeup artist let out a long, slow breath, set down her case, and prepared to begin.

After the makeup artist had done her job with trembling fingers, Mother Liao dressed Liao Xue in the hastily sewn wedding garments—just a red top and red pants.

The gaudy red hardly looked like wedding attire. It made Liao Xue's swollen face even more prominent, like a Tang dynasty burial figurine.

Firecrackers crackled somewhere outside, popping with festive cheer.

Colorful ribbons burst in the air, scattering into a mess of chicken feathers on the ground.

Liao Xue sat on the bed in her bridal getup, ignoring everyone who spoke and paying no mind to anyone who moved. She was like a wooden dummy.

The groom had gone home and was supposed to come fetch her soon. Mother Liao personally dragged Liao Xue to the door and waited for the wedding party.

Ten o'clock. No one came.

Eleven o'clock. Still no one.

Almost noon, and passing noon for a wedding was considered extremely inauspicious. Mother Liao didn't care about that; she was more afraid the groom's side would reject her and return her "goods."

In the crowd's tense waiting, the wedding car never appeared. Instead, a messenger arrived.

"Has your daughter been engaged twice before? And both grooms died?"

Mother Liao raised one eyebrow high. Trying to haggle down the price again, was she?