Unsure if she was doing it to reassure herself or her husband, perhaps both, Wendy reached out to intertwine their fingers. The small gesture alone instantly made her stand slightly taller. They were in this together.

“Without further ado, let us commence! As always, may Fú be always by your side!” With that, Wěi turned towards a large glass bowl that contained thousands of folded white cards. Silence descended over the crowd like a curtain falling.

Holding bated breaths, the audience watched as Wěi reached into the bowl with languid, deliberate movements. The tension in the air was palpable as his hand disappeared into the sea of cards, searching for the one that would seal a child’s fate. He took his time, stirring the cards around, feeling their weight and texture as he moved his fingers through them. The crowd was on edge, barely blinking as they watched his every move.

Finally, Wěi’s hand closed around a card. He withdrew it slowly, holding it up for all to see. It was slightly crumpled and worn, its edges frayed with age. Wěi held it out momentarily, letting the suspense build before he finally unfolded the card.

“The chosen child for this year’s highest intelligence level belongs to…” he started. His booming voice reverberated across the hushed square.

The crowd elicited a collective gasp as they waited for him to finish. Wendy felt her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Were it not for the firm grasp of her husband, she was bound to have fallen over.

“The Chin family!”

A beat passed.

Wendy’s world spun. Did I hear him correctly? Was Fú finally by our side? She looked at Andrew for confirmation, finding him just as stunned as she was. Wendy felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes as the reality of what had just happened hit her like a truck. They won! Their unborn child had won the highest intelligence level in the Lottery. What a dream come true!

Again, she looked at her husband, who was still staring at Wěi in disbelief. Hand-in-hand, they made their way towards the stage as the crowd parted like the Red Sea. Through the flurry, Wendy could vaguely make out faces ranging from jealousy to disbelief, rage, and disgust. But it didn’t matter. They won.

Once more on stage, Wendy felt her heart jumping erratically as they approached the flamboyant host, the winning card still in his hand.

“Congratulations,” he commended, smile widening twice its original size as he saw the couple approach. “You must be in seventh heaven.”

Wendy could only nod. The ability to speak seemed to be beyond her at that moment. Andrew retrieved the card from Wěi and held it against the light, examining it closely.

“I can not believe it,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Breaking the couple from their stupor, Wěi gestured to the side of the stage where a group of people in crisp suits stood waiting. “Mr and Mrs Chin, if you kindly follow me, we’ll take care of the paperwork and get your child registered.”

Wendy and Andrew nodded, still in awe. As they were led by Wěi offstage, Wendy felt herself feeling lighter than she had ever been since her belly started growing. We did it! Our child’s future is going to be so bright.

Ecstatic, the Chins left the Lottery, eager to begin their new life as parents to a highly intelligent child.

* * * * * *

Over the next few weeks, Wendy and Andrew were wrapped in a whirlwind of constant activity. They met with educational advisors, enrolled their child in the top schools in Sunsei, and even set up a trust fund for their future.

Sure enough, when their child was born, it was clear that they had won the Lottery. From the moment he entered the world, it was apparent that Míng (Wendy and Andrew felt like they owed it to the Lottery for their son’s invaluable gift) was extraordinary.

It wasn’t long before they saw the fruits of their labour come to life.

As a child, Míng was always curious and intelligent. He possessed a hunger for learning that never seemed to be satisfied, no matter Wendy and Andrew’s countless attempts at explaining. Due to their limited educational background, the questions Míng asked were, more often than not, over their heads. At only 18 months, he could already converse with his parents at an adult level; At four, he could read high-level books fast and well; At six, he was completing algebra questions meant for high schoolers.

There was no doubt that Míng was a prodigy. At school, he excelled in every academic field. Science, maths, languages, humanities… everything felt like a breeze to him. Míng swept through test after test with flying colours. Soon enough, he was recognised as one of the generation’s brightest minds. At just the age of ten, Míng already had innumerable job offers awaiting his adulthood.

Wendy and Andrew couldn’t be happier.

* * * * * *

As Míng entered adolescence, Wendy started to notice a shift.

He had started spending more and more time in his room, claiming that he was “studying”... sometimes even missing mealtimes with the family. Wendy was worried, but she also believed her son knew what he was doing, so let him be. Another thing she noticed was that Míng had been significantly less talkative and inquisitive than he used to be during the occasional times he emerged from his room. She tried bringing this matter up to Andrew, but he simply told her, “there was nothing to worry about” and that she was overthinking again.

Maybe I am.

* * * * * *

Once, Wendy came to pick Míng up from school, but it seemed like he was conversing with his classmates. However, as Wendy observed longer, it seemed like that wasn’t the case at all!

Míng stood awkwardly to the side of the assemblage, seemingly unsure of how to contribute to the conversation. In addition to shifting from foot to foot, eyes darting around as if searching for a way out, Míng flat-out struggled to maintain eye contact with any of his peers and didn’t stop fidgeting nervously with his hands.

Wendy could not lie. It was painful to watch the interaction, but she told herself, surely that’s normal behaviour of a teenager! It’s just a part of growing up. And so the moment was swept behind her mind.

* * * * * *

One day, Míng burst out of his room, face streaked with plain distress. Wendy and Andrew didn’t need to be told that something was terribly wrong.

“What is it, son? Did you get a bad grade?” Andrew queried. At the same time, Wendy asked, “Are you not satisfied with your current tutor?”

Míng’s face morphed into fury, “Please stop! I just want to be free from all this!”

In a state of delirium, Wendy and Andrew said nothing.

Exasperated, Míng could only say under his breath, “You guys will never understand…”

Before Wendy or Andrew could protest, Míng walked out the front door, not before slamming it. The house shivered on its wooden piles.

* * * * * *

It’s been 6 days since Míng announced his departure. Wendy was frenzied with a turmoil of emotions - worry, anger, confusion, disappointment - one of them was sure to be the death of her. As an attempt to cope, she turned to cleaning.

As soon as she was up, she would start sweeping the floors and then mopping them. But it wasn’t enough, so she would get down on all fours to scrub at the already speckless floor. After that, she would polish the glassware, even though they’d barely ever been used. Then she turned her attention to washing the toilet, folding the laundry, wiping down the shelves and any other surface she could lay her hands on. The thing was, the Chin household wasn’t that large, so there really wasn’t much for Wendy to do. But that didn’t stop her. She would just repeat it all again till the point of physical exhaustion and sleep came to comfort her.

During one of these crazed episodes, Wendy happened to come across a drawing that had somehow found its way under the fridge. This drawing, clearly done by a child, was of a stick figure in a space suit standing on the moon. Ah, Wendy remembers now.

* * * * * *

Upon reaching home, six-year-old Míng excitedly exclaimed, “Māmā! Bàba! Look what I drew at school today!” He proudly displayed his crayon drawing of an astronaut on the moon to his parents.

“That’s pretty cool! What is it for?” Wendy asked, barely looking up from her cooking.

“Lăoshī asked us to draw what we wanted to be in the future,” Míng replied.

Wendy expressed her doubts, “Oh? Then how come you drew an astronaut? Wouldn’t a doctor or a lawyer be better instead?”

Míng’s dejection was evident as he responded, “Oh… I guess,” but neither Wendy nor Andrew noticed at that time. Just as quickly, Míng asked hopefully, “Can we stick it on the fridge anyway?”

“Míng, you know very well the fridge is only for the things you need to memorise: Snell’s Law, the Fibonacci sequence, 101 ways to answer well in a job interview - those things. Surely you don’t need to memorise a drawing, do you?” chuckling, Andrew ruffled his son’s hair affectionately, trying to lighten the mood.

* * * * * *

Without realising it, Wendy had become tearful at the memory.

How could we have been this blind?! He was just a child! Even now, he is still a child! How did we miss the blatantly obvious signs that our son was struggling?

At that moment, all instances of them pressuring Míng to study or brushing off his interests came to mind. As if opening the floodgates, they came pouring into Wendy’s field of vision, clear as day, despite being blurred by a thick screen of tears.

Like a much-needed wake-up call, Wendy realised that they had been so focused on giving their child the gift of intelligence that they had neglected other essential aspects of his development, forgetting that emotional intelligence and empathy were just as important as academic prowess.

Wendy wondered how life would've been different if they had just raised Míng like an ordinary child instead of a production line machine that spends its lifetime churning out results - never stopping. Her regret was overwhelming, but amid her pain, she vowed to learn from her mistakes and be a better parent. She promised to change.

Come home, Míng. We’ll do better.