Little Seven

Who am I? Shen Zhiwei had been asking herself that question for ten years. She couldn't remember anything from before she was eighteen. It was as if a knife had cut her life cleanly in two: the first eighteen years were a blank, and the past ten were the person she'd struggled to become. But that blank had never truly been empty. It visited her in the dead of night, taking the shape of a dream. The dream was pitch-black. The air smelled of salty sea wind and the cloying sweetness of rust. A voice called to her from the darkness, hoarse as sandpaper scraping glass: Xiao Qi... Xiao Qi... Shen Zhiwei didn't know who the voice belonged to, or who Xiao Qi was. She only knew that every time she heard that name, her heart hurt. It hurt so much. That pain seemed to tell her that she'd lost something very important. That pain seemed to remind her that someone was waiting for her, and had been waiting a very long time. For ten years, Shen Zhiwei had searched countless records, looked for countless people, and asked countless questions. But the answers were always the same: No such person found. Identity unknown. Origin unknown. Shen Zhiwei thought she'd never learn the truth in this lifetime. Until the day a man burst into her examination room. He gripped her by the throat, his eyes red-rimmed as he demanded, "Where have you been? I've been looking for you for ten years. Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you..." [A story of redemption through mutual forgetting] [At the end of time, I searched for you, but you stood at its beginning and asked me, "Who are you?"] Theme: Everyone is searching for themselves. Who you are isn't defined by your past, but by the choices you make.