Chapter 1
At six-thirty in the morning, the Angel Orphanage in the Aisala Special District of the Abyss was still submerged in thick, heavy darkness, punctured only by the scattered, sickly-yellow glow of a few streetlamps.
Inside the dormitory building, quiet reigned as the children slept soundly. Several orphanage supervisors dressed in ash-gray robes flicked on the harsh incandescent lights, pushing open the rusted, tightly shut iron doors room by room.
One of the supervisors began shaking a brass bell in his hand. “Rise and shine! Everyone out of bed immediately!”
Startled awake one after another, the children rustled into their clothes, setting the rusty iron bunks creaking and squeaking.
The head supervisor planted himself in the middle of the hallway and yelled, “Dignitaries from Cloud Peak are visiting the Abyss for an inspection today, and they will be stopping by our Angel Orphanage! Everyone’s waking up half an hour early. Clean yourselves up properly—don’t go disgusting our honored guests!”
The children, moments ago dazed with sleep, snapped to attention at those words, their sluggish movements abruptly accelerating.
“…The two children selected last time are living the good life up on Cloud Peak right now! The things they eat and use every single day are beyond anything you could ever see, let alone imagine…”
Scrambling into their clothes, the children stampeded out toward the washroom in a mad dash. Some hadn’t even pulled their shoes on properly, hurriedly scuffing them along, soles slapping noisily against the floor the entire way.
The supervisors continued down the hall, coming to a halt before the doorway of Room 16.
This room had originally been a utility closet. Small in size, it had barely managed to squeeze in four sets of bunk beds. Under the stark, glaring light, every single mattress still held an unmoving mound wrapped under a quilt.
“Why aren’t they out of bed yet?” The head supervisor frowned, surveying the room.
The supervisor beside him explained, “Even though this floor is designated for the older kids, the ones in Room 16 are still quite young. They just turned six and were only moved down from the toddler wing on the second floor last month. We woke them up too early today, so they’re difficult to stir.”
“Plenty of high-ranking officials are visiting today. Our main objective is seizing this opportunity to secure powdered milk rations; having children chosen is secondary. Not a single kid in this orphanage can be missing. Get them up, hurry it along.”
“Understood.”
The supervisors went down the line, patting small faces and yanking off the blankets one by one. By November, the temperature in the Abyss had plummeted. As that meager pocket of warmth trapped beneath the thin quilts vanished, even the soundest sleepers were shocked awake by the piercing chill.
“Out of bed! Wake up, don’t go back to sleep!”
Groggy and bewildered, the children scrambled upright. One little boy puckered his lips, on the verge of tears, but swallowed his sobs the moment he opened his eyes and saw the supervisor towering over him. Snatching the clothes draped across the foot of the bed, he hastily began pulling them on.
The supervisor’s gaze landed on a bottom bunk tucked in the corner. To his surprise, a little boy was still lying there.
Clad only in undershorts, the boy kept his eyes squeezed shut, tenaciously clinging to sleep despite having his quilt snatched away. He had curled his body into a tiny ball, his little cheeks puffing in and out as he urgently sucked on his thumb.
Shen Quanquan was in the middle of a dream. In his dream, he was holding a steamed bun in each hand. But he had only eaten half of one when snow began falling inside the orphanage cafeteria, a bone-seeping chill drilling deep into his body.
He figured he could hold out just a bit longer—just long enough to finish the buns. But the world suddenly spun topsy-turvy. His body flew into the air and dropped, his bare feet smacking against the cold ground as a sharp voice barked into his ear:
“Shen Quanquan, stand up straight!”
Everyone in the room watched as Shen Quanquan staggered like a drunkard, nearly pitching face-first into the floor before the supervisor yanked him up by the arm to steady him.
Only then did Shen Quanquan blink open his eyes. His first reaction was to look down at his empty hands. After a few seconds of utter bewilderment, he raised his gaze to the supervisor in front of him and asked, totally dazed, “Where are my steamed buns?”
“Still sleep-talking! What steamed buns? Go put your clothes on, quick.”
Shen Quanquan stood frozen, his toes curling against the freezing floorboards as he shivered, staring up at the supervisor with massive, round eyes.
“Aren’t you cold, huh? Put your clothes on and get to the cafeteria; breakfast will be served soon.” The supervisor pointed at the bunk. “You’re usually the first in line to eat. Move it.”
Shen Quanquan didn’t utter another word. He simply scrambled back onto the bed to get dressed, glancing down at his empty hands every now and then with a dazed, forlorn expression.
“Buns… I want to eat big steamed buns, too…” muttered the child on the opposite bed, grumbling under his breath as he wrestled with his shoes.
Shen Quanquan finally came fully awake. Realizing it had all been a dream only made his disappointment swell. He mumbled softly, “They couldn’t even wait for me to finish eating before waking me up.”
The second floor housed children under six, along with many infants. Seeing that everyone in this room was finally awake, the supervisors followed the head supervisor up to the second floor.
What Shen Quanquan hated most in the world was putting on pullover T-shirts, because his head always ended up trapped inside, unable to find the collar opening. Right now, his head was once again hopelessly swathed in fabric, leaving him with only the sound of scurrying footsteps as the other children filed out of the room.
“Why won’t these shoelaces listen to me…”
Hearing that voice, Shen Quanquan perked up with delight. He pointed his cloth-covered head in the direction of the sound. “Lin Duozhi, you’re still here?”
The boy sitting on the opposite bunk wrestling with his laces replied, “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Help me find where my head goes, and I’ll tie your laces for you.”
Helping each other out, the two little boys finally managed to get dressed, shoes and socks included.
The children of the orphanage wore identical gray T-shirts year-round. When the weather turned freezing, they simply threw a thick, gray padded cotton jacket over top. The jacket was stiff and heavy. To prevent the children from constantly wiping their runny noses on their sleeves, a strip of plastic sheeting had been stitched onto the lower half of each sleeve.
Now in early November, the Abyss saw freezing mornings and nights alongside warm daylight hours, prompting the orphanage kids to strip off their jackets and bundle back up again in an endless cycle. Anyone witnessing their chaotic layers would be hard-pressed to tell what season it actually was.
Fully bundled in their heavy coats, each clutching a toothbrush and a small washbasin, the two walked out the door. The hallway was choked with older kids barreling through, so they flattened themselves tight against the wall, inching forward.
“Did you really dream about eating steamed buns?” asked Lin Duozhi, trailing behind.
“Mm. Two of them.”
“What filling was inside?”
Shen Quanquan tilted his head, trying to recall. “I don’t remember. I just know they were super delicious.”
“Was there meat?”
“Probably.”
Lin Duozhi sounded a bit disappointed on his behalf. “You should’ve dreamed about chicken drumsticks. Those are all meat.”
“But I don’t remember what chicken drumsticks taste like anymore. I only remember buns.” Shen Quanquan smacked his lips.
“Oh. To be honest, I don’t remember either.”
After walking two more paces, Shen Quanquan suddenly whipped around, cupping one small hand into a hollow bowl as if holding something up: “Quick, catch it! This bun is super hot!”
He winced, his face scrunching up as he sucked in sharp breaths. Lin Duozhi hurriedly mimed catching it with both hands.
“So hot, so hot! Eat it slow!”
“Hiss… Wow, smells so good!”
The two kids pretended to feast on the imaginary steamed bun, puffing out their cheeks to chew and making exaggerated gulping sounds.
“What filling is yours? Let me see,” Shen Quanquan said around his puffed-out cheeks.
Lin Duozhi: “Sugar candy filling! What about yours?”
Shen Quanquan took an imaginary bite, eyes lighting up in sheer delight. “Meat! It’s all meat!”
Right as the two little boys were giggling against the wall, someone shoved Shen Quanquan hard in the back. He jolted forward, crashing straight into Lin Duozhi. Both of them tumbled to the floor, their small basins and toothbrushes clattering into the middle of the hallway.
“Get lost! A good dog doesn’t block the path!”
A boy of about ten or eleven kicked the little washbasin aside and sprinted past them.
Tumbling to the floor, Shen Quanquan didn’t even pause to register the pain. He scrambled forward on all fours, swooping the basin back into his arms. Only then did he reach around to rub his stinging back, glaring fiercely at the boy’s retreating figure.
When the older boy turned his head to look back, Shen Quanquan instantly averted his gaze, smoothing all anger from his little face into an expression of docile obedience.
—He had suffered enough beatings to know that crossing the older kids only earned you a thrashing.
Beside him, Lin Duozhi slowly picked himself up, head hanging low as he scooped up his own basin. “Let’s go.”
Shen Quanquan took a few paces, but couldn’t stomach the indignity. Turning back and making sure the older boy had vanished inside a dorm room, he clenched his fists together in front of his chest, raised his stubby index fingers and thumbs like gun barrels, and shouted fiercely:
“Mental attack!”
“Shh! Quiet, be quiet!” Lin Duozhi frantically tugged at his coat.
The two little boys hurried on toward the washroom. Only when they were completely sure that the bully wouldn’t pop back out did Lin Duozhi finally break down into soft, sniffling whimpers.
“My nose hurts so bad from the fall.”
Shen Quanquan’s back was throbbing with dull pain, and tears threatened to spill from his own eyes, but he held them back and insisted, “I hit him with a mental attack. It’s gonna hurt him so, so much.”
“I secretly attacked him too just now,” Lin Duozhi sniffled, adding, “A silent attack.”
“Then he might already be dead by now.”
“Yeah. Dead.”
With their grief somewhat assuaged, the two boys finally noticed the unusual behavior among the older kids. As they walked, they looked around in confusion and pricked up their ears, finally catching snatches of words like Cloud Peak and honored guests.
“Ah! Are they choosing people to go to Cloud Peak again?” Shen Quanquan clamped a hand over his mouth, unable to contain his bubbling excitement.
Lin Duozhi didn’t speak, but he nodded vigorously, his habitually pale face flushing bright red.
Clutching their basins, the pair rushed into the washroom, delighted to discover it wasn’t crowded at all. There was even an unoccupied faucet with no line!
Several kids from their dormitory were already there, chattering excitedly the moment they spotted them.
“Hurry up and wash! It’s only us little kids right now!”
“Hurry, what if the big kids come back?”
Shen Quanquan and Lin Duozhi dashed over to the empty tap, twisted the valve, and filled their basins.
The water heater at the orphanage had been broken for quite some time without being repaired, meaning the children had to wash using entirely cold water.
Though midwinter had not yet arrived, the water piped in from who-knew-where carried tiny flecks of crushed ice. Watching them bob inside his basin sent two violent shivers through Shen Quanquan’s small frame.
He really didn’t want to wash his face with ice water—in fact, he hadn’t washed it for a whole week—but today was different. Today, he had to scrub himself squeaky clean. Only if the honored guests from Cloud Peak liked what they saw would there be a chance of him being chosen.
Shen Quanquan had lived in the Abyss his entire life and had never seen Cloud Peak with his own eyes, but it was the dreamland, the ultimate paradise, for every single child in the orphanage.
On Cloud Peak, you could definitely eat steamed buns all the time. On Cloud Peak, turning on the tap poured out hot water. The junkyards on Cloud Peak were bound to be brimming with treasures—half-full fruit cans scattered everywhere, and endless glass marbles just waiting to be picked up…
Cloud Peak… Cloud Peak…
His little heart surged with dizzying longing. Steeling himself, Shen Quanquan finally reached into the icy water, scooped up a tiny palmful, and slapped it onto his face.
“Aaargh!”
He let out a bloodcurdling wail. His entire face contorted as he stamped his feet frantically, throwing wild punches into the empty air.
The other kids washing their faces had been shivering as well, but seeing his antics, they all burst out laughing, hopping up and down alongside him while hissing through their chattering teeth.
Among the row of children standing before the trough, Lin Duozhi was the only one washing with dead seriousness. Even though his teeth clacked like castanets from the cold, he scrupulously scrubbed every inch of his face and rubbed his ears clean.
In the middle of the ruckus, a supervisor clad in a long gray robe appeared at the doorway.
“I told you to make it quick! What are you all fooling around for?” the supervisor barked harshly.
“We’re washing! We’re washing right now!”
“It’s so cold, I’m freezing to death!”
“Bear with it! Once the heater is fixed, there’ll be hot water!” the supervisor snapped again.
The children hastily finished up, gathered their basins, and headed back to the dorms. Shen Quanquan brought up the rear, only to be called out: “Shen Quanquan, hold it right there.”
Hugging his little basin, Shen Quanquan froze in his tracks, tilting his head back to gaze silently at the supervisor. His overgrown hair flopped messily across his forehead, obscuring half his eyes, while two droplets of water still dangled from his pointed chin.
The supervisor pointed at his head. “Look at this hair of yours—it’s an absolute mess. It’s completely covering your eyes! Why hasn’t it been trimmed yet when it’s gotten this long?”
Shen Quanquan gave his head a sharp flick, flipping the fringe back to reveal half of his forehead and a pair of large, dark, grape-like eyes, before resuming his stare at the supervisor.
The supervisor opened his mouth to scold him further, but the muster whistle suddenly pierced the air outside. He had no choice but to wave a hand dismissively. “Get back inside first. Drop off your wash supplies in the dorm and assemble on the sports ground immediately.”
It was already seven in the morning, yet the Abyss remained draped in nighttime darkness. The distance was swallowed by blackness, illuminated only by the floodlights illuminating the orphanage grounds. The small yard was packed with people. Aside from the infants on the second floor, every child was present, lined up by height in rows spanning two to three hundred children.
With high-ranking dignitaries from Cloud Peak arriving momentarily, tension ran thick throughout the facility. Supervisors dashed frantically back and forth. The director, who rarely ever showed his face, stood by the main gates, badgering the staff with questions.
“Where are they now?”
“Just one sector away. They’ll be here any minute.”
“This delegation is made up entirely of high-ranking officials and their retinues. We cannot afford a single mistake.”
“Rest assured, Director.”
“Make sure the children behave themselves and look sharp. Whether we can squeeze powdered milk and grain rations out of them depends entirely on today.”
“Understood.”
…
Being so small, Shen Quanquan stood at the far right of the very front row. Although he wore a padded cotton cap, the icy wind kept snaking down the collar of his coat. Shivering continuously, he fixed his eyes on the honor guard standing directly before them.
The honor guard was composed entirely of the oldest children in the orphanage. Facing the assembly, they stood clad in matching white gloves and red ceremonial uniforms, yellow tassels dangling from their shoulders.
Standing directly opposite Shen Quanquan was a drummer. His uniform didn’t fit him properly, exposing wrists and ankles that were pale from the biting cold. Sensing Shen Quanquan’s envious stare, the boy turned his chin away with a haughty tilt, drew in a deep breath, and—snort—sucked back the snot threatening to drip from his nose.
Shen Quanquan retracted his gaze, twisted around, and whispered to Lin Duozhi behind him, “I really want to play the drum too. And wear that uniform, and wear those things on my hands.”
Lin Duozhi ignored him. Standing ramrod straight with his chest puffed out, he cast only the occasional darting glance toward the main gates.
“Boom-boom-cha, boom-boom-cha…” Shen Quanquan whispered rhythmic beats at him, his small hands tapping the air in tiny, measured strikes.
Lin Duozhi held out for about ten seconds before crumbling, raising his hands to join in the quiet rhythm: “Boom-boom-cha, boom-boom-cha…”
Satisfied, Shen Quanquan turned back around, only to spot the little girl standing beside him scratching her head. Ever since they had lined up, she hadn’t stopped scratching. Her two little braids had been scraped into a frayed, messy heap resting like wild dried grass atop her scalp.
Out of kindness, Shen Quanquan warned her, “Stop scratching. Your hair is an absolute mess; nobody can even see your eyes.” He pulled off his cap and gave his head a vigorous flick. “Do it like me. Flick it back. Go on.”
“B-but it’s so itchy,” the girl whimpered, her hands continuing to scratch relentlessly.
A passing supervisor halted in his tracks, yanked the little girl out of the line, and parted her hair with rough fingers. After picking through it for a few seconds, he struck her across the shoulder with an open palm.
“How on earth did you get lice?!” the supervisor demanded in fury.
The slap wasn’t heavy, but the girl stumbled all the same. Before she could regain her balance, the supervisor grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the dormitories. “The honored guests will be here any second! What are you doing with a head full of lice? Get back inside! You stay there until they leave!”
With her hair wild and disheveled, the girl was dragged along in tiny, stumbling steps under the watchful eyes of the entire crowd, letting out agonized sobs: “I don’t want to go back to the dorm! I want to go to Cloud Peak! I don’t want to go back…”
Another supervisor barked at the assembly, “Stop staring! Inspect the person in front and behind you! Check each other’s hair for lice! Anyone with lice goes straight back to the dorms!”
Every child sprang into motion, parting one another’s hair and scouring scalp after scalp for any sign of lice.
Lin Duozhi ducked his head, letting Shen Quanquan search through his hair. He was so terrified he could barely stand steady, his voice quivering violently.
“What if I have lice? Quanquan… I won’t be able to go to Cloud Peak…”
Shen Quanquan whispered back to comfort him, “Even if I see one, I won’t tell.”
“They’ll find out anyway! The lice will jump on my head!” Lin Duozhi sounded on the verge of tears.
Shen Quanquan said, “Then if I see it, I’ll catch it and throw it away.”
“It’ll jump on the ground!”
“Then… then after I catch it, I’ll just eat it.”
Fortunately, there were no lice in Lin Duozhi’s hair. Shen Quanquan then lowered his head for Lin Duozhi to inspect, and no lice were found either.
Just then, a supervisor who had been keeping lookout outside dashed past the fence, panting heavily as he gasped to the director and head supervisor by the gates: “Th-they’re here! They’re coming!”
The head supervisor spun around and bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Alright, that’s enough! Stand at attention, everyone! Prepare to welcome our honored guests!”
Every child searching for lice snapped upright. The honor guard struck up their instruments, and the rest of the children followed the conductor’s lead, bursting into song in unison:
“How blessed and joyful our lives are,
How bright and clear our voices soar,
Here the little angels gather,
Sowing seeds of hope forevermore…”
Amidst the thundering drums and resonant singing, several piercing beams of headlights cut through the gloom in the distance. A motorcade was driving toward the Angel Orphanage.
