Chapter 151 Extra Chapter 8: Chu Xinyan's Story: The Difficult Path to Redemption
The warmest color in Chu Xinyan's memory is the sun-drenched Su family courtyard from her childhood.
The sunlight back then was golden, filtering through the leaves of the old locust tree and casting dappled patterns on the ground. The air was filled with the fresh scent of soap from the cotton sheets that my mother, Hu Shuifen, had hung out to dry, and the enticing aroma of braised pork, my father Su Jiangong's specialty, wafting from the kitchen.
My father was a technician at the town's agricultural machinery factory. His fingers always smelled faintly of machine oil, but after work, he would lift me high in the air, rub my face with his rough stubble, and laugh heartily. My older sister, Su Xinwan, with her two little braids, followed behind me like a little tail, calling out in her clear voice, "Little brother, slow down!"
Back then, his mother's eyes bore the subtle traces of life's hardships, but her smile was bright, like a gardenia glistening with dew on a summer morning. She would hum softly and gently stroke his forehead with her warm hands. The home wasn't large, even somewhat simple, but every inch of air was filled with peace and love. He thought life would always be like this, like the colorful fairy tale book in his father's study, always ending happily.
However, the fairy tale shattered unexpectedly.
Father died suddenly in a factory accident; the pillar of the family collapsed, and the sky seemed to fall with it. Mother's tears flowed like a broken string of pearls, quickly drying up, leaving only empty despair and boundless bewilderment. The warm little courtyard was gone, and they returned to her maternal home, where she had always considered Mother a "money-losing burden." They were despised by her snobbish aunt, forced to live as dependents, and subjected to endless scorn.
The weight of life and the whispers of others quickly extinguished the last glimmer of light in the mother's eyes. When the matchmaker introduced Chu Jingen, a brick factory worker in town, the mother looked at his honest and kind face and heard his promise to "treat the children as her own," as if grasping at a lifeline. She was too tired; she needed someone to rely on, a place to shelter from the wind and rain, so that her children wouldn't go hungry and could continue their schooling.
Chu Xinyan still remembered the feeling when she first stepped into the newly built two-story house of the Chu family. The house was new, with shiny white tiles, much more impressive than the Su family's courtyard. But it was empty and cold inside, with an unpleasant smell of cement and paint mixed together.
His stepfather, Chu Jingen, smiled as he handed him a brand-new schoolbag and patted his head. But the touch of that hand made the eight-year-old instinctively flinch. Beneath that smile, something he couldn't understand seemed to be hidden, like the frost that forms on a window in winter.
Su Xinwan, the older sister, gripped his hand tightly; her palm was icy cold. The fourteen-year-old girl already possessed a keen sense of observation. She noticed the warmth in Chu Jingen's eyes as he scrutinized his mother and the others, a look that held only calculation and a subtle possessiveness. She whispered to Chu Xinyan, "Xinyan, be careful in the future."
The day his surname was changed to "Chu," his mother cried all night. Ten-year-old Chu Xinyan didn't understand why his mother cried so sadly; he only vaguely felt that the character "Su," which symbolized his father, had been taken away, leaving a void in his heart. He held his mother's hand and whispered, "Mom, it's okay. Even if I have the surname Chu, I'm still me." His mother hugged him tightly, her tears soaking his collar, her body trembling violently.
When did the nightmare begin?
Perhaps it was late at night when he was awakened by suppressed whimpers and painful groans coming from his mother's room next door. He cowered under the covers, fearing his mother was ill. He tried to knock, but his sister, who had also been awakened, held him back tightly. Su Xinwan's face was deathly pale in the moonlight; she pressed her fingers to her lips, shaking her head frantically, her eyes filled with terrified tears.
Perhaps it was Chu Jingen's gaze that had gradually changed. It was no longer the superficial politeness of the beginning, but rather a chilling scrutiny and greed. He would suddenly pinch his arm, pat his buttocks, ostensibly to "see if he's grown strong," but those touches sent shivers down Chu Xinyan's spine. He would, without warning, push open the bathroom door while Chu Xinyan was showering, his naked gaze sweeping over his body, then casually walk away, leaving behind humiliation and fear that enveloped him like thick ink.
He tried to get help from his mother, rambling incoherently about his stepfather's "strange" behavior. At first, his mother would frantically comfort him, "Don't think nonsense, Dad loves you." Later, her eyes began to dart away, and her tone became impatient, "Xinyan, be good, don't upset him. The three of us depend on him for support." Then, when he mustered the courage to say something again, his mother would suddenly interrupt him, her face filled with an almost pleading fear, "Don't say it! Please, don't say it!"
He gradually realized: his mother knew everything, but she dared not rebel.
Chu Jingen's violence wasn't limited to tormenting his mother at night; he would also beat and kick her during the day if anything displeased him. This home, seemingly clean and bright, was in reality a cage built by Chu Jingen with violence and fear. His mother, long since tamed, had become a frightened bird.
Chu Xinyan tried to resist.
At fourteen, he heard the bathroom door lock being turned again. He abruptly pulled a towel over himself and roared at the door, "Get out!" Chu Jingen outside was silent for a moment, then let out a chilling chuckle. That night, his mother was beaten terribly; her screams echoed like dull knives cutting into Chu Xinyan's heart. The next day, Chu Jingen called him to his side, said nothing, but in front of him, tore apart page by page an old notebook that his sister, Su Xinwan, cherished—a keepsake left by their father.
“In this family, only those who obey will survive.” Chu Jingen’s voice was calm, yet it was like the forked tongue of a viper. “Your sister is taking the high school entrance exam next year, right? She wants to go to high school and then university? Hmm?”
At that moment, all of Chu Xinyan's courage vanished. He saw the naked threat in his stepfather's eyes. He could bear to fall into hell himself, but he couldn't ruin his sister's future. His sister was so smart, so hardworking; she was the only one in this family who still had hope of breaking free.
The boy silently lowered his head, clenching his fists so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms, leaving crescent-shaped welts. He had become a silent shadow, an empty shell. He no longer let his sister hug him, no longer let her help him bathe; he was afraid that the scars on his body and the filth in his heart would taint her eyes. He began to wake up in the middle of the night, letting out suppressed screams similar to his mother's, then quickly burying himself under the covers, biting his wrist to stifle the sound.
He knew that Chu Jingen was a demon. And this demon had his eye on him. He had become his stepfather's new "toy," an object used to prove his twisted "power" and satisfy his perverse desire for control. Every touch, every violation, was like branding a burning, ugly mark onto his soul. He felt utterly filthy, like rotting weeds in a sewer, never to see the light of day again.
His only solace was his older sister. Su Xinwan had been accepted into police academy and left home. Every time she returned, she would secretly slip him money, urging him to study hard and protect himself. She would look into his eyes and say earnestly, "Xinyan, hang in there a little longer. Once I graduate and get a job, I'll come and take you away." In his sister's eyes, there was still light, still an indomitable flame. That flame, faintly, warmed his cold heart.
To ensure his sister's safe departure and to reduce the beatings his mother suffered, Chu Xinyan chose to sacrifice himself. He shut himself off, building a high wall of silence and obedience. Inside the wall was a bloodied, desperately screaming soul; outside the wall was a gloomy, taciturn "stepson" who at least allowed his sister to study with peace of mind and gave his mother a little breathing room.
After the college entrance exam, he received an acceptance letter from Kyoto Normal University. It was the only ray of light in his bleak youth. He desperately wanted to escape, to go to a place where Chu Jingen could no longer breathe. He hid the letter at the bottom of an old box in the basement, as if hiding a fragile dream.
However, Chu Jingen discovered it. He held the notice in his hand, a mocking smile on his face like a cat catching a mouse: "Want to go to Beijing? To fly away? You think you're all grown up?" He approached Chu Xinyan, his breath, a mixture of cigarette smoke and lust, hitting his face. "I'm in charge of this house. You're not going anywhere. Stay here and manage the accounts for me."
The sound of hope shattering was so clear that Chu Xinyan felt an overwhelming despair. Just when he was about to collapse, Chu Jingen suddenly changed his mind, his tone softening strangely: "However... it's not like we can't discuss it."
Chu Jingen's eyes darted around, carrying an unsettling excitement.
Chu Xinyan later learned that Wen Mo had already fallen into the clutches of evil. He had a new "toy" and had temporarily loosened his control over the old one. Chu Xinyan's dream of going to university was inadvertently "exchanged" for the freedom and suffering of another young man.
Even after going to university, Chu Xinyan didn't gain true freedom. Chu Jingen's name remained a constant shackle, binding her. Her mother's phone calls were always filled with sobs and pleas: "Xinyan, your father misses you. Come home for the holidays... If you don't come back, he'll throw a tantrum again..."
Every time I go home, it feels like a ritual of falling back into hell.
The tranquility and scholarly atmosphere of the campus could not cleanse the filth in his heart. He could not fit in with the group, nor could he accept anyone's approach. Like a frightened snail, he would retreat into his thick shell at the slightest disturbance. His world consisted only of books and the occasional worried phone calls from his sister.
He thought his life might just end like this, lingering in eternal gloom until he rotted away. Until that May, when his sister called, her tone more resolute and urgent than ever before: "Xinyan, don't come back for summer vacation! No matter how much Mom begs you, don't come back! Believe me, I'll handle everything!"
There was a power in his sister's voice he had never heard before. At that moment, Chu Xinyan's hand holding the phone receiver trembled slightly. Was it fear, or a faint, almost unbelievable glimmer of hope?
Chu Xinyan listened to his sister. That summer, for the first time, he firmly refused his mother's tearful pleas and stayed at school to work. On the phone, his mother's cries were desperate and confused, but he gritted his teeth and refused to agree. He trusted his sister, the sister who had protected him since childhood and was now wearing a police uniform.
He had no idea what terrifying ordeal his sister was going through. Until one day, his sister called again, her voice tired but filled with relief: "Xinyan, it's all over. Chu Jingen has been arrested, and Mom... Mom is cooperating with the investigation. You're safe."
On the other end of the phone, Chu Xinyan remained silent for a long time, only the deafening pounding of her own heart could be heard.
It's over? The nightmare that haunted his entire adolescence, the seemingly unshakeable demon, just like that... fell? A huge sense of unreality enveloped him, his legs went weak, and he slumped into a chair in his dormitory, his vest instantly soaked with cold sweat.
The older sister didn't go into too many details over the phone, but repeatedly told him, "It's okay, it's really okay. Eat well, sleep well, and I'll come pick you up after everything is sorted out."
The days that followed were spent in a daze. He ate, went to class, and worked mechanically, but he always felt that everything around him was separated by a layer of frosted glass. At night, he would still wake up from nightmares, covered in cold sweat, but when he woke up, he would find the moonlight outside the window peaceful, and the suffocating fear was gone.
A few days later, he saw photos of Chu Jingen and his mother being taken away by the police in the newspaper, along with horrifying headlines like "Shocking Crime in Changhe Town" and "Devil Couple Arrested." The report mentioned Zhang Lei and Zhao Rui, and the story of "Wen Mo" being rescued after three years of imprisonment. Those vague guesses, those suspicious noises he heard late at night, the occasional cruel pleasure Chu Jingen revealed… none of it was a figment of his imagination! Chu Jingen's hands were stained not only with his and his mother's blood, but also with the lives of others!
A wave of nausea surged in his throat, and he rushed to the bathroom to vomit violently. He felt filthy because his body had once been fed by that demon, and ashamed of his past cowardice and silence. If… if he had been braver back then, would Zhang Lei and Zhao Rui have survived? This thought gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake.
When his older sister, Su Xinwan, came to pick him up and take him back to Yan City, she saw a younger brother who was even thinner, with empty eyes, and looked as if he could break at any moment. She hugged him with heartache and said over and over again, "It's not your fault, Xinyan, it really isn't your fault. The fault lies with Chu Jingen, with your mother's cowardice, which allowed him to be spoiled."
Back in Yan City, his sister didn't take him back to the villa in Changhe Town filled with painful memories. Instead, she settled him in her dormitory. She carefully looked after his emotions, gave him the contact information of a psychologist, and gently told him, "Jiang Ling said you need professional help. We can't let the shadows of the past trap us for the rest of our lives."
Chu Xinyan heard the name "Jiang Ling" from her sister time and time again. Her sister's tone was filled with admiration and gratitude when she spoke of her. It was this Officer Jiang Ling who had keenly sensed the anomaly, decisively delved into the investigation, and ultimately tore away the glamorous facade of the Chu family villa, exposing the crimes within to the light of day. It was also she who persuaded her sister, giving her the courage to confront everything.
When his sister tentatively asked him if he would be willing to testify against Chu Jingen for his long-term sexual abuse, Chu Xinyan was caught in a tremendous struggle. To speak out would be tantamount to tearing open already scabbed wounds and exposing them to the public. Shame, fear, and a complex mix of emotions towards his mother intertwined, causing him immense pain.
His sister didn't pressure him; she just held his hand and said, "Officer Jiang said this isn't your fault. You are the victim; the one who should feel ashamed is the abuser. Your testimony is very important. It can help Chu Jingen get what he deserves, and it can also... help Mom truly see the past clearly, and perhaps give her a chance to start anew."
The older sister paused, her voice choked with emotion: "Moreover, Xinyan, we need to seek justice for Zhang Lei, Zhao Rui, and Wen Mo. Silence is sometimes a form of indulgence."
His sister's last words pierced Chu Xinyan's heart. He thought of Zhang Lei's sunny smile in the newspaper, of Zhao Rui's parents' blinded eyes from crying, and of Wen Mo, a complete stranger imprisoned for three years. Had his silence, in a way, made him an accomplice to Chu Jingen's crimes?
A few days later, accompanied by his sister, he met the legendary Officer Jiang Ling. She looked very young, with delicate features, but her eyes were sharp and calm, possessing a power that could penetrate the heart. Unlike some others, she didn't show excessive sympathy or pity, which would only make Chu Xinyan feel more embarrassed. Her attitude was professional and calm, simply explaining the legal procedures, his rights, and the significance of his testimony.
“Classmate Chu Xinyan,” she addressed him as “classmate” instead of “child” or “victim,” which gave him a strange sense of respect. “Speaking the truth takes immense courage. It’s not just about punishing the criminal, but also about truly freeing yourself from his control and starting a new life. The law will protect you, and so will we.”
Her voice was steady and powerful, like a lighthouse in the dark night, guiding the way. Looking into her clear and firm gaze, Chu Xinyan suddenly felt that perhaps those unspeakable past experiences could really be told. Not to show his wounds, but to break the shackles that bound him.
In a quiet, safe room, facing the police officer taking her statement, Chu Xinyan, for the first time, painstakingly and brokenly, recounted the humiliation and pain that had been buried deep in her heart for many years.
The process of recounting his experience was far from easy. He choked several times, vomited, trembled violently, and his clothes were soaked with cold sweat. His sister waited anxiously outside, while Officer Jiang Ling quietly stayed by his side, occasionally handing him a glass of warm water, her eyes offering silent encouragement and support.
After saying his last sentence, he was almost completely exhausted, as if he had fought a battle that had drained all his strength. But strangely, the huge rock that had been pressing on his chest for years, so heavy that it made it hard to breathe, seemed to have loosened a little.
After giving his statement and signing the papers, he walked out of the room and saw his sister's red eyes and Officer Jiang Ling's approving gaze. Sunlight streamed in through the corridor windows, somewhat blinding, and for the first time, he didn't instinctively retreat into the shadows.
He once thought he was destined to live in the shadows his whole life, but when everything came out into the light, he suddenly realized—why should the perpetrators be so smug while the victims suffer in pain and despair?
What followed went far more smoothly than anyone could have imagined. The evidence was overwhelming; Chu Jingen's sophistry was utterly powerless before the complete chain of evidence. On the day of the trial, Chu Xinyan didn't go to the scene. He sat in his sister's dormitory, looking out the window. He knew that the devil had finally received his due punishment. The light of the law, though many years late, had finally pierced through the shadows, illuminating every corner of evil.
The mother, Hu Shuifen, was also sentenced. Before the sentencing, her sister visited her. Upon returning, her sister told her that their mother wept bitterly, filled with remorse, saying she was sorry to her siblings and the children who had died, and that she was willing to spend the rest of her life atoneing for her sins.
When his sister relayed their mother's words to him, her expression was complex. Chu Xinyan remained silent for a long time, finally only saying softly, "I understand."
His feelings for his mother were too complex, a mixture of hatred and pity, to be sorted out in a short time. But he knew that his mother had ultimately chosen to face the situation and repent, which, perhaps, was a new beginning.
After the case was settled, the first thing Chu Xinyan did was to formally apply to the public security authorities to change her name back to "Su Xinyan".
His hand trembled slightly as he wrote "Su Xinyan" on the application form. This wasn't just a simple change of two characters; it was a declaration, a resolute farewell—a farewell to the imposed, humiliating surname, a farewell to the unbearable past marked by the surname "Chu." He wanted to be a child of the Su family again, the son of his father Su Jiangong and mother Hu Shuifen, the mother whose bright smile he still remembered, and the true younger brother of his sister Su Xinwan.
The day he received his new ID card, he looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar name, and his eyes welled up slightly. His sister put her arm around his shoulder and said with a smile, "Welcome home, Su Xinyan." He also tried to force a smile, which was still a little awkward, but it came from the bottom of his heart.
Life gradually returned to normal, but the inner wounds could not be healed overnight. Nightmares still visited from time to time, and an unintentional touch in a crowd would make him freeze instantly. The self-denial deep inside, the feeling of "I am not clean" and "I am not worthy," would often surface in the dead of night, gnawing at his sensitive heart.
With the continued encouragement of his sister and Officer Jiang Ling, he finally mustered the courage to go to the psychological clinic. The initial process was extremely difficult. Facing the psychologist, he became silent again, as if the pain was welded deep in his throat. The doctor was very patient and did not rush him to speak, but guided him to express his emotions through non-verbal methods such as drawing and sandplay.
Gradually, his tense nerves began to relax. He started trying to record his feelings in writing, initially just fragmented words and contradictory sentences, but gradually he was able to write paragraphs. He poured all the pain, fear, anger, and confusion that he couldn't express in words onto his pen. Writing became a safe outlet for his emotions, a process of self-healing.
The therapist told him, "Trauma is not your fault, but it has become part of your history. Acknowledge it, face it, integrate it, instead of trying to forget or deny it, and you can truly overcome it." These words, like keys, gradually unlocked the heavy locks in his heart.
His sister's meticulous care provided him with tremendous support. She never deliberately avoided the past, nor did she overprotect him; she simply interacted like any ordinary sibling, sharing anecdotes from work, complaining about the cafeteria food, and urging him to eat and sleep on time. This "normal" atmosphere was exactly what Su Xinyan needed, making him feel like he was slowly being pulled back onto the track of an ordinary person's life.
Officer Jiang Ling would occasionally contact him to inquire about his situation, her tone always calm yet firm. She didn't treat him differently because he was a victim, and this "normal attitude" made Su Xinyan feel comfortable. Once, Jiang Ling casually remarked, "Actually, you have strong observational and empathetic abilities. People who have experienced great hardship often have a deeper understanding of human nature. This may not be a talent, but a byproduct of suffering, but if used wisely, it can be a great strength."
These words, like a seed, fell into Su Xinyan's heart. He began to ponder what else he could do besides letting go of the past.
He picked up his textbooks again and studied even harder. His grades remained excellent, especially in Chinese, where he showed particular talent. Reading and writing became his way of exploring his inner self and understanding the world. He discovered that when immersed in the world of literature, he could gain unprecedented peace and strength.
After graduating from university, at the suggestion of his sister and Jiang Ling, he chose to pursue further studies and earned a master's degree in psychology. He wanted to understand what had happened to him more scientifically and systematically, and he also wanted to help those who had similar experiences and were trapped in psychological prisons.
This process was not easy; it required confronting many theoretical descriptions of trauma, which often triggered his own emotional reactions. But he persevered, and each time he overcame a difficulty, it felt like he had transcended himself.
During this time, he visited his mother in prison.
Through the glass window, her mother looked much older; most of her hair had turned white, and her eyes no longer held the fear and numbness of the past, but instead a deep regret and guilt. She repeatedly said "I'm sorry," saying that she was also learning and reflecting in prison. Su Xinyan looked at her, her heart aching, and finally only said, "Reform yourself well and take care of your health."
Blood ties are hard to sever, but whether or not to forgive requires time, perhaps a lifetime, to process. All he can do is look forward and not be completely consumed by the resentment of the past.
I heard that Wen Mo's condition has greatly improved after a long period of treatment in the provincial capital. He has even picked up his paintbrush again, and although his style has become somber, it is full of powerful vitality. Su Xinyan felt sincerely gratified by this. They are all survivors of that nightmare, and they are all struggling towards the light in their own ways.
After obtaining his master's degree, Su Xinyan combined his professional knowledge and interests to become a professional psychological counselor, while also continuing to write in his spare time. He chose to specialize in assisting victims of psychological trauma, especially childhood trauma and sexual abuse. Because he truly understands their pain, shame, and struggle, his empathy comes not from books, but from raw, personal experience.
His consultation room is always filled with warmth and peace. He doesn't tell his clients "I understand you," because he knows that everyone's pain is unique, but his calm presence itself is a silent form of companionship and encouragement. Many clients have found a sense of being truly "seen" and accepted by him, thus gaining the courage to heal.
His writings also began to appear in professional psychology journals and literary publications. He wrote under a pseudonym, his articles imbued with rationality and profound compassion, dissecting trauma, exploring redemption, and offering solace and strength to countless people struggling through the darkness. He even artistically incorporated some of his experiences into his novels. His novel, "The Silent Land," caused quite a stir after its publication, not because of its tearful accusations, but because it ultimately pointed to the hope and resilience born from the depths of despair.
The older sister, Su Xinwan, has become a backbone member of the Municipal Public Security Bureau's Criminal Investigation Division. She is decisive and efficient, yet has gained a touch more sensitivity and insight than before. The siblings often get together, sometimes talking about work, sometimes just quietly sharing a meal. They rarely bring up the past anymore, but those shared pains and struggles have long since transformed into a deeper connection and tacit understanding in their blood.
Occasionally, Su Xinyan would meet with Officer Jiang Ling. She was now a legendary figure in the Provincial Public Security Bureau, leading the increasingly important Crime Prevention and Analysis Center. She remained busy, but each time they met, she would inquire about his well-being and share her work insights like a friend. She once said, "Xinyan, your work is excellent. You see, things that grow again after being broken are often stronger than those that were never broken."
It was another warm afternoon. Su Xinyan finished his workday and saw off the last visitor. He walked to the window, opened it, and felt the evening breeze on his face, bringing with it the bustling and vibrant sounds of the city.
He picked up the old photograph on the desk—a picture of himself, his sister, and his parents in the Su family courtyard when they were young. Everyone in the photo had a genuine and radiant smile. His fingertips gently brushed across his father's face, his mother's bright eyes, and his sister's innocent smile.
The scars of the past remain, and may never completely disappear, but they no longer bleed or fester. Instead, they have become a mark of resilience, albeit a grotesque one.
Although he experienced the deepest darkness, he learned to cherish every ray of light; although he endured silent trampling, he was more willing to speak up for those who had lost their voice.
He was no longer the Chu Xinyan who could only cower in a corner, trembling with fear.
He is Su Xinyan, a psychological counselor and author who uses his professional knowledge and writing to help others, a family member his sister can rely on, and one of the countless survivors who have emerged from trauma.
Night gradually fell, and the city lights began to twinkle, creating a dazzling spectacle. Su Xinyan turned on his desk lamp, the soft light spilling onto the manuscript paper. He picked up his pen, pondered for a moment, and began writing in his diary for the day, which was also the beginning of his new novel:
"There is always light that can pierce through the thickest gloom; there is always a voice that can break the most dead silence. The path to redemption begins with compassion for oneself and ends with illuminating others... I once thought that I, who had fallen into the abyss, would never be able to get ashore, until a pair of strong hands rescued me from the fire and water."
The pen tip scratches across the paper, like a silkworm eating leaves, full of vitality.
Outside the window, the Milky Way gradually rises, silently illuminating this city that has experienced darkness but has always moved towards the light, and also illuminating the new chapter full of hope that is gradually unfolding in his writing.
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