Chapter 5: Why Perform an Analysis

She leaned forward and then reclined back, laughing as she pounded the hospital bed with her hand. After a while, she whispered into my ear, “We have to get a proper checkup; once you understand your heart, everything will be clear.”

I had already agreed, but with nowhere else to turn, I replied, “We’ll talk about it when there’s a chance.”

Next, Molly put her left arm around my shoulder and held my hand with her right, unconcerned whether we were both women or not. She tapped and swiped on the phone screen. Suddenly, she found a video file that could be opened. The background was blurry and hard to make out at first, but when she tapped it, the video started playing after a brief commercial. Words appeared: “Male and female sterilization is the most effective contraceptive method. Now, let’s watch the female sterilization process.”

Those words caught both our eyes. Honestly, I was only curious—I didn’t really understand the purpose of sterilization.

But Molly knew clearly and, regardless of how many people were in the ward, she exclaimed loudly, “If you’re sterilized, you won’t have children!”

I immediately thought, I’m a man—having children is a woman’s concern. Still, I asked, “Why get sterilized? It sounds fine, but does it hurt?”

Molly poked my forehead and teased, “You fool! Aren’t you a woman now? If they sterilize you, you won’t have kids!”

I couldn’t accept it. Originally a healthy man, now turned into a woman, and expected to bear children in the future—that was rather troublesome! I fixed my gaze on the phone screen, which showed a very scientific explanation: a tiny needle tube punctures the skin near the fallopian tubes, automatically opens, wraps around them, flashes once, and severs them into two sections, then ties them off with surgical thread, skipping the need for sutures. The whole procedure only takes ten minutes...

It was our first time watching such a video, our eyes wide with fascination. Molly wanted to learn more and kept flipping through photos with my hand, searching the storage but found nothing else.

I was a novice, clueless. She just showed me how to tap, and I followed.

Molly wasn’t foolish; she immediately considered searching online. She opened the interface—there were many videos about male and female sterilization. Following her lead, she clicked on male sterilization. After another ad and a restless half-minute wait, an introduction appeared: “Male sterilization surgery is very simple and can be completed smoothly in just five minutes.”

Molly’s eyes grew even wider than mine, fixed intently on the screen. The video wasn’t particularly graphic, but a tense curiosity drove us to watch: a special surgical clamp grasped a tube; a scalpel sliced a small incision in the middle; stainless steel forceps pulled out a small tube which was cut, then both ends were tied and secured in place with stitches.

It was novel to me. I watched it over and over. Eventually, we clicked through several related videos until we both grew tired and went to bed.

A doctor in a white coat entered the room and called out, “Number nineteen, time for your blood test!”

I was confused. The parents of the boy, Zheng Tai, had gone out for dinner and hadn’t returned yet, and now they only called me. It felt awkward.

Molly, who had been admitted earlier, knew the procedure well and accompanied me.

The nurse didn’t wait and left immediately after speaking, leaving me dazed and unsure of what was happening.

Molly took my phone and led the way down the corridor, where a sign indicated the laboratory. I hesitated, afraid to enter.

She practically dragged me inside. Zheng Tai’s parents were there, talking to the lab doctor. The mother carried a handbag on her left arm and a plastic bag filled with items in her right hand.

I stood silently behind them. Zheng Tai’s mother turned, saw me, and pulled me forward, saying, “It’s her. I already told you about her condition.”

The doctor handed me a test form, and we queued up near another door to wait. Molly stayed by my side.

We waited for twenty minutes before Zheng Tai’s parents and I entered the lab. A technician in a white coat took a sharp needle, pricked my middle finger hard. The pain was sharp and piercing, but she showed no reaction. She used a small suction tube to draw a bit of blood, placed it in a water-filled test tube with a label, sealed it for preservation. Zheng Tai’s parents underwent the same process. The whole took nearly half an hour.

We felt a huge relief returning to the ward. The mother kindly handed me the food she had bought, saying, “Zheng Tai, if the test shows you’re my biological daughter, you must call me Mom. Otherwise, people will laugh at you.”

Only now did I understand why she insisted on the test. She placed the bagged food on the bedside table. I wasn’t hungry anyway but couldn’t accept it. She seemed younger than me—there was no way she could have given birth to me. Yet now, the body was Zheng Tai’s, and she was the mother, the ages seemed to match...

My mind drifted to photos of Zheng Tai as a child. I couldn’t help but ask, “Ma’am, isn’t Zheng Tai a little boy? I’ve seen the photos...”

The origin of that photo was no simple matter. Years ago, before smartphones, it was taken with a camera. To preserve it, she had taken a picture of the photo with a phone. That moment was deeply etched in the mother’s memory.

“That’s how your name came about! Clearly a little boy, yet given that name. The gender changed, but the name couldn’t be altered!”

“It sounds awful! A little girl, not called ‘loli,’ but ‘Zheng Tai.’ Doesn’t it feel strange?” I carefully examined myself in the bathroom. That wasn’t mine—why was it on my body?

Molly noticed my confusion and whispered playfully in my ear, “That body isn’t really yours! It should belong to Zheng Tai.”

Her words reminded me how foolish I was! I’d become Zheng Tai—how could I still be a man? I kept thinking I was in my forties, but Zheng Tai was only fifteen!

The mother’s insistence on making me call her “Mom” and undergoing this sillyI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.