Iron Window Tears, A Million-Dollar Search for a Son

Under the dim light, Sun Haiyang hunched over, staring intently at his phone screen. It was a faded photo of a child with a bright smile, his eyes sparkling like stars. It was his son, Sun Zhuo, a child who had been abducted fifteen years ago.

Fifteen years, five thousand four hundred days and nights, enough time for a babbling child to grow into a young man, and enough time for a father in his prime to become an old man. Sun Haiyang's hair had long turned white, and the wrinkles on his face were like ravines, deeply etched by the traces of time.

"Zhuo'er, where are you? Dad has been looking for you for so long..." Sun Haiyang murmured, his cloudy tears rolling down his cheeks, dripping onto the cold screen, blurring the light and shadow.

On the phone screen, a news headline pierced his eyes: "Someone offers a million yuan for clues about Sun Zhuo." A million yuan, for Sun Haiyang in the past, might have been just a number, capital that could be spent freely. But now, it was his entire hope, the last gamble he had exchanged with half a lifetime of savings and endless pain.

He sold his family property, traveled across most of China, put up missing person posters, appeared on television programs, and posted on the internet... He was like a lonely fighter, fighting against fate, racing against time. He had seen too much of the warmth and coldness of the human world, and experienced too much of the fickleness of human relationships. Some sympathized with him and provided clues; some took advantage of him and cheated him out of his money; and some ridiculed him, saying he was delusional.

But Sun Haiyang never gave up. He firmly believed that as long as his son was alive, he would definitely find him. This belief, like a lamp in the darkness, supported him through countless desperate nights.

However, behind the million-yuan reward lies a deeper sorrow. This is not just a father's search for his son, but also a scar of an era. In this materialistic society, money seems to have become the measure of everything. Family affection, ethics, and morality all seem pale and weak in the face of money.

Those human traffickers, for money, can destroy humanity, sell living beings as commodities, and create countless tragedies like Sun Haiyang's. And those buyers, have they ever thought that their happiness is built on the suffering of so many families?

The million-yuan reward, like a huge stone, was thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples. Some saw hope, some saw money, and some saw despair. This despair is not only Sun Haiyang's despair, but also the despair of the whole society.

Sun Haiyang's phone rang, an unfamiliar number. He trembled as he answered the call. A low voice came from the other end: "Mr. Sun, I have information about your son..."

Sun Haiyang's heart beat violently, as if he saw a glimmer of hope. But he was also afraid, afraid that this was another scam, a scam that would plunge him into the abyss again.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, and asked, "You... who are you? What evidence do you have?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, and then the voice said, "I... I am a human trafficker."

Sun Haiyang's body shook violently. He gripped the phone tightly, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. He gritted his teeth and asked, "You... what did you do to my son?"

"He... he's fine. He's in a good family now, living a good life."

"You... you bastard!" Sun Haiyang roared, "You ruined my life! You ruined my family!"

"Mr. Sun, I know you hate me. But... I have my own difficulties. I... I need money."

"Money? You can sell someone else's child for money? Are you even human?"

"Mr. Sun, I... I didn't want to do this. But... I had no choice. I... I owe a lot of debt. I... I need money to pay it off."

Sun Haiyang was silent. He suddenly felt a surge of powerlessness. He knew that in this society, there were too many people like this human trafficker, who would stop at nothing for money, and who could destroy humanity.

He slowly said, "You... how much money do you want?"

"One million."

"Okay, I'll give it to you. As long as you give me back my son, I'll give you anything." Sun Haiyang's voice trembled, with a hint of despair, but also a hint of hope.

There was silence again on the other end of the phone, and then the voice said, "Mr. Sun, you... you are a good father. I... I admire you. But... I can't give you back your son."

"Why?" Sun Haiyang's heart sank to the bottom again.

"Because... because I'm afraid of death. I... I know that if I give you back your son, I... I will definitely be arrested, and I... I will be sentenced to death."

Sun Haiyang closed his eyes in despair, two lines of hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He knew that the trafficker was telling the truth. In this society, the law is just, but human nature is complex.

He slowly opened his eyes, looked at the dark night sky outside the window, and his heart was filled with endless sorrow and despair. He didn't know how much longer he would have to wait until the day his son came home. He only knew that this search for his son was long and arduous, and he didn't know if he could continue to persevere.

Outside the window, wind and rain mixed, and thunder roared, as if the heavens were weeping, weeping for this tragic era.