The air conditioning in the first-floor lobby of the city registration bureau was set to twenty-six degrees. Take a number, fill out a form, provide your fingerprints, drink a cup of warm water. The adjustment period is six weeks. A doctor will contact you.
Registration was entirely voluntary, and came with benefits: housing quotas, reliable electricity, medical credits. No one was forced. People walked into the registration office of their own accord, and even thanked it.
People who registered got better: chronic illnesses cleared up, tempers softened, sleep deepened, and smiles became more standardized. They simply stopped remembering little things: who owed her twenty yuan, what year you had a fight that summer.
Lin Yan infiltrated the registration bureau under the name "Zhou Xing" to find the younger sister who had vanished nine months ago.
She knew the person sitting behind Window Three. Three years ago, that person had left without a word.
Today, that person personally registered her.
