parents

Three days after the incident, while Yu Chen was still under observation in the medical room, a black minivan with a temporary license plate bearing the character "使" (meaning "envoy") drove onto the mountain road outside the resort. Yu Jing and Qin Yu had booked the earliest flight back to China overnight, transiting through Hong Kong from Los Angeles before flying to Linxia.

The car door slid open, and Qin Yu stepped out first. She wore a dark blue long dress, her hair styled in a low bun. Her features resembled Yu Chen's by about seven-tenths, though the corners of her eyes bore the marks of time. She clutched a thin blanket, a supply item she hadn't opened on the plane. Yu Jing followed behind, his suit jacket draped over his arm, his shirt collar slightly wrinkled, yet still impeccably dressed. He held a file folder containing Yu Chen's injury report, the summer camp insurance policy, and a photocopy of a "Guardianship Authorization Form" signed by Xiao Wei.

The two remained silent until they reached the door of the infirmary. Qin Yu raised her hand but stopped at the doorknob, as if afraid of disturbing the respirator inside. Yu Jing reached out and placed his hand on the back of her hand, gently pressing the door open—the door opened, and a blast of cold air and the smell of disinfectant hit them.

At the bedside, Xiao Wei was changing the ice pack on Yu Chen's right hand. Hearing the noise, she turned around, her eyes meeting those of the two elders. Her fingertips paused involuntarily, and the ice pack made a soft "crack" sound.

Yu Chen spoke first, his voice still low and hoarse: "Mom... Dad?"

Qin Yu hurried to the bedside, her gaze sweeping over the stitches on her daughter's knuckles and the faint pink old marks on her neck. Her eyes instantly reddened, but she stubbornly refused to let the tears fall. She simply unfolded a thin blanket and covered Yu Chen's knees: "Are you still cold?"

Yu Chen shook her head. Yu Jing stood at the foot of the bed, his gaze falling on Xiao Wei—a black sleeveless vest, an old scar on her collarbone, the way she held her daughter's hand—like a silent shield. His brow furrowed slightly, his voice low and steady: "You are Xiao Wei?"

“Yes.” Xiao Wei stood up straight, but her hand did not loosen, the back of her fingers turning slightly white from the force. “The temporary guardian of the summer camp is also—” She paused for half a second, her voice neither humble nor arrogant, “Yu Chen’s friend.”

Qin Yu looked up, her gaze lingering on Xiao Wei's face for a couple of seconds before settling on their clasped hands, her eyes unreadable. She said softly, "Thank you for saving her."

“She saved herself first,” Xiao Wei said in a low voice. “I just arrived in time.”

Outside in the corridor, Sheng Shuo and An Yi stood side by side, each carrying a thermos and a bag of prescription medication just written by the doctor. Upon seeing Yu Jing and his wife, they both nodded in greeting, but neither went inside—leaving the space for the family, and also for the undercurrent that had yet to be revealed.

In the ward, Yu Jing flipped through the injury report, his fingertips pausing on "hypothermia" and "fingertip laceration," his knuckles clenching silently. He looked up at his daughter: "Summer camp, are we still going to let you continue?"

Yu Chen didn't answer, but simply stretched out his right hand, wrapped in gauze, and gently placed it on the back of his father's hand. His voice was low but clear: "Dad, I made it into the selection. Next Friday, the provincial team's 60kg final."

Qin Yu's eyebrows twitched, and her gaze met Yu Jing's—there was no surprise in her eyes, only a sigh of "I knew it." Yu Jing closed the report and said in a low voice, "Alright, let's finish the fight then."

He turned his head, his gaze falling on Xiao Wei again. His tone was calm, yet subtly scrutinizing: "After the competition, let's have a meal together. We—need to talk."

Xiao Wei nodded, his knuckles silently closing, as if accepting a practice match without a referee.

As night fell, a bonfire was lit at the resort. Mr. and Mrs. Yu were arranged to stay in a suite in the main building, with a window facing the lake shore—a place that had almost become the scene of a tragedy, now only a circle of trampled reeds remained, swaying slightly in the wind.

Qin Yu stood by the window, a cup of hot tea in her hand, her voice carried by the steam rising from the glass: "She has grown up, but in places we can't see, she has learned to breathe on her own."

Yu Jing put his arm around her shoulder from behind, his voice low and steady: "Then don't miss her match again."

Outside the window, the campfire crackled and popped, sending sparks soaring into the sky like a pre-announced bell—this time, no one was absent.

On the fourth day after the incident, at six o'clock in the morning, in the conference room of the main building of the resort.

At the end of the long table, Yu Jing, impeccably dressed in a suit, had five files spread out in front of him—Li Wei, Lin Shan, Zhao Qiao, Han Chi, and Xu Ke. Next to each name, he drew a horizontal line with a pen, as if marking the end of the score.

“Mr. Yu, this is a minor,” the summer camp vice principal cautioned, his voice tense. “The school can issue a demerit, can expel them, but if you use 'that' (referring to 'that' or something), their whole lives will be—”

"A lifetime?" Yu Jing looked up, his gaze as calm as a still lake. "When my daughter was digging into rocks in the cold water, why didn't anyone talk to her about a lifetime?"

He closed the file, his voice low, yet carrying the cold glint of a Phnom Penh lawyer's letter:

Five families will receive three notifications today—

First, criminal case filing receipt: attempted intentional injury, accomplice;

Second, civil claims: medical expenses, emotional distress damages, and punitive damages;

third--"

He paused, then tapped his pen on the table with a crisp "tap":

"Permanent note in personal credit record: serious campus violence record, irrevocable and cannot be sealed."

The air in the conference room froze instantly. That pen, like the referee's final bell, fell, severing all future pathways requiring political vetting, such as direct admission, studying abroad, becoming a civil servant, working for a state-owned enterprise, joining the military, or becoming a pilot.

On the same day at noon, five parents were successively invited to the police station.

Li Wei's mother clutched the "Case Filing Receipt," her fingers turning white: "My child is only seventeen years old. One record has ruined his life!"

Sitting outside the mediation room, Yu Jing flipped through his phone's photo album—high-resolution images of Yu Chen's finger sutures, a medical report showing a temperature of 34°C, and magnified images of bloodstains by the lake—presenting them one by one to the other party, his voice calm:

"The records weren't provided by me; they were written down by themselves."

“Then the compensation…” another father’s voice trembled, “we can’t afford the punitive amount even if we sell our house!”

“If you can’t afford to pay, then pay in installments.” Yu Jing raised his eyes, his gaze unfathomable. “Until my daughter is healed, until she can stand in the boxing ring without any trauma.”

A week later, five plea bargain agreements were on the prosecutor's desk.

Because the record is permanent and cannot be sealed, they must publish a public apology and undergo mandatory community rehabilitation during high school. Any early admission to universities or any scholarship requiring a political background check will be automatically revoked.

That night, Li Wei, accompanied by his parents, arrived at the resort's medical clinic, hoping to plead for leniency in person. Yu Jing only had the gatekeeper deliver one sentence:

"In the adult world, there is no such thing as 'just scaring,' only consequences."

Inside the door, Yu Chen was being helped by Xiao Wei to do finger rehabilitation exercises. Hearing faint crying outside, she was silent for a few seconds, then looked up at her father:

"Is it...too heavy?"

Yu Jing leaned down and covered her head with his uninjured left hand, his voice low and steady:

"Dad won't take anyone's life, but if anyone dares to touch your future, I'll ruin their prospects."

"This is the bottom line, and also the price to pay."

The reeds by the lake rustled in the wind after the bonfire party was canceled.

Five children stood there, holding public apology letters, reading them word by word to the lake. Their voices were torn apart by the night wind, like defeated people reading their apologies to an empty grandstand. There were no spectators, but they had to finish—because their "life" had already begun, and the bell had rung; there was no turning back.

In the distance, Yu Chen stood on the balcony of the infirmary, her knuckles still wrapped in thin gauze. She looked at the lake, then at the stands—there, Xiao Wei leaned against the railing, his black boxing glove bag at his feet, their eyes meeting, like a silent fist bump.

The flames are gone, but the sparks remain.

This time, it's not the smoke of revenge, but a warning light called "the price" lit by the father himself.