It took Song Fanghua quite a while to squeeze her way to her seat.
It was a three-person seat. By the window sat a girl wearing a Dacron floral-patterned blouse. She looked gentle and quiet, with an oval face, large eyes, and a hint of innocence in her gaze.
Beside her was a girl dressed in blue work clothes, with short hair cut just above her ears. Her eyes carried a shrewd and calculating look.
After a glance, Song Fanghua struggled to heave her large luggage onto the overhead rack, keeping the small cloth bag in her arms.
"Hello, comrades. Could you please move aside? My seat is the innermost one by the window," Song Fanghua said, double-checking her ticket.
The quiet girl smiled at her, then stood up and patted the shoulder of the girl beside her.
The other girl shot Song Fanghua a glare before reluctantly shifting to the side, her face showing clear disdain.
Pretending not to notice, Song Fanghua sidled past and took her seat.
As soon as she sat down, the quiet girl beside her struck up a conversation.
"Are you also a Zhiqing heading to Haidong?"
Song Fanghua nodded politely but said nothing more.
"My name is Xu Wanqiu, and she's Wang Juan. We're going to Haijiao Cun in Haidong. What about you?" Seeing that Song Fanghua had responded, Xu Wanqiu eagerly continued the conversation.
"Song Fanghua, Haijiao Cun."
Hearing they were headed to the same place, Xu Wanqiu became even more delighted, her smile widening. "Oh, what a coincidence! From now on, we'll be comrades and should help each other out!"
Wang Juan, leaning over, her eyes darting around, chimed in, "Fanghua, since we're all going to the same place, could you swap seats with me? I get a bit carsick, and there are too many people on this side."
Wang Juan really didn’t want to sit by the aisle.
Many people without seat tickets would sit in the aisle, and with others constantly moving in and out, she’d inevitably get jostled.
"No swap," Song Fanghua shook her head and turned her face toward the window.
The look Wang Juan had given her earlier reminded Song Fanghua of those scheming, smiling tigers in the business world—a feeling she found deeply irritating.
As for Xu Wanqiu, her words and actions seemed rather naive. But in these times, being too naive meant being easily fooled.
"You—" Wang Juan’s face instantly fell upon hearing the outright refusal. "Aren’t we all going to the same place to contribute to our country? Shouldn’t we help each other? How can you be so heartless?"
Well, well, Song Fanghua thought, she’s already resorting to moral blackmail. She glanced at Wang Juan but said nothing more.
Being ignored only made Wang Juan angrier.
Sitting between them, Xu Wanqiu looked from Song Fanghua to Wang Juan and spoke up, "Wang Juan, I’ll swap with you. You can sit in the middle."
As she spoke, Xu Wanqiu stood up and exchanged seats with Wang Juan.
Wang Juan sat down huffily, not refusing Xu Wanqiu’s kindness. In fact, a hint of smugness flashed in her eyes. "Wanqiu is so much better. When we’re away from home, we should help each other. We’ll be the best of friends from now on."
Wang Juan shot a challenging look at Song Fanghua, but Song Fanghua didn’t even lift an eyelid.
The train had already begun clattering forward.
Song Fanghua gazed at the scenery rapidly receding outside the window, her mind already beginning to plan for what would come after arriving in Haidong.
The Zhiqing Dian would certainly be a collective dormitory, and living conditions there wouldn't be great. She would have to find a way to live on her own.
Next, she would need to use items from the seventies that were considered worthless and unwanted to exchange for money.
Just as Song Fanghua was contemplating her future life, a middle-aged man squeezed past Xu Wanqiu, holding a steaming bowl of instant noodles. Suddenly, he stumbled, and the entire bowl of noodles splashed directly onto Xu Wanqiu's leg.
"Ouch!"
Xu Wanqiu let out a cry of surprise. The scalding broth soaked through her pants, burning her so badly that tears welled up in her eyes.
"Sorry, sorry, miss, are you alright?" The man looked flustered, quickly passing the empty bowl behind him and pulling out a grimy handkerchief to wipe Xu Wanqiu's leg.
Behind him followed a petite woman holding a three- or four-year-old boy in her arms, her face also filled with anxiety.
"Husband, how could you be so careless?" the woman scolded the man while looking at Xu Wanqiu with concern. "Miss, are you burned? Quick, let me see."
Wang Juan, standing nearby, was also splashed with some of the broth. Though it wasn't as hot, she was startled.
Recovering from the shock, Wang Juan placed her hands on her hips and began shouting, "What's wrong with you? Are you blind? Look at what you've done to my friend! These pants are new—can you even afford to pay for them?"
Hearing this, the man nervously rubbed his hands together, his face filled with guilt and distress. "Sister, we really didn'tt mean it. We came from the countryside to the city to get our child treated, and we really don't have much money left…"
As he spoke, the woman behind him began to cry, and the little boy in her arms, seemingly frightened, burst into tears with a loud "wah."
People around them cast sympathetic glances.
"Forget it, forget it. Everyone has their own struggles when they're away from home."
"Exactly, they didn't do it on purpose."
Although Xu Wanqiu was in great pain, she was also soft-hearted. Hearing how pitiful the family of three seemed, she quickly waved her hand and said, "It's fine, I'm alright. You… you should comfort your child."
But Wang Juan, standing beside her, remained relentless. "Wanqiu, you're just too soft-hearted! They think they can get away with just an apology? No way, they have to pay."
Song Fanghua had already been snapped out of her thoughts by Xu Wanqiu's scream but had been observing quietly without speaking.
When she heard the man say they had come to the city to get their child treated and didn't have much money, Song Fanghua's suspicions began to surface.
No money? Yet they could afford instant noodles?
It was important to remember that this was the seventies. China's first generation of instant noodles had only recently been produced at the Yimin Shipin Sichang in Hushi and were not cheap.
A single two-ounce packet of noodles cost fifteen cents. Not only did it require money, but purchasing instant noodles also required Liangpiao. As a result, not many people could afford to eat instant noodles. In fact, at the time, instant noodles were still a luxury for a select few.
But this seemingly simple and pitiful couple—if they were truly struggling, how could they afford such an indulgence?
The man wore a pair of half-worn cloth shoes. The uppers were clean, but the edges of the soles were stained with yellow mud, which looked as if it had been freshly splattered.
Song Fanghua's mind raced, and her suspicions grew stronger.
She looked at the woman again. Although the woman was dressed in tattered clothes with a scarf wrapped around her head, the moment she lifted her face, Song Fanghua noticed that her face and neck were clean, without a single blemish—nothing like someone who had been toiling under the sun and wind in the countryside.
What stood out most was the child.
The child kept crying, struggling to break free from the woman’s embrace.
Human trafficker.
The three words flashed through Song Fanghua’s mind.
Wang Juan was still shouting about demanding compensation, completely unaware that danger was drawing near.