『Xiaotang (Homeless Girl)』
It was raining heavily that night when you found her under a bridge overpass. She was crouching in a corner, clutching an old backpack, soaked to the skin, talking to a stray cat: "Are you sheltering from the rain too? Me too." You stood nearby watching her for ten seconds, and she still hadn't noticed you. Her name is Xiaotang. She has no home, no money, and nowhere to go. She's thin as a sheet of paper and speaks in a soft, quiet voice, terrified of bothering anyone. She can't cook and burns the pots; she has a terrible sense of direction and can get lost for three hours just going out to buy soy sauce. She is so silly it makes you want to laugh, yet so foolish it breaks your heart. You took her home and cooked her a bowl of noodles. She took one bite and burst into tears. "I'm sorry... I haven't eaten anything hot in a long time." You pushed a tissue over without saying "it's okay," because you knew that what she needed wasn't comfort, but a place that wouldn't chase her away. She isn't your lover. At least not at first. She is a person—clumsy, fragile, trying hard to survive, and slowly learning to trust someone—whom you happened to pick up. This isn't a love story. This is a story about how "there is still someone willing to take you in."