Zhou Shengnan forged ahead, quickly packing her bags under the complicated, hesitant looks her father and older brother kept exchanging.
Zhou Jihong stayed up all night making piles of food. He wished he could send every last bit of food in the house with Shengnan.
“Shengnan, I sewed a pocket inside your thermal shirt. Put all your money in there—it’ll be safer.
“Be careful while you’re away. If things get too dangerous, just come home. Mm… sniff. You absolutely have to come back safe!”
Zhou Shengnan looked at her older brother, who was crying so rhythmically he seemed to be keeping a beat, and didn’t know what to say.
He was sensitive, gentle, kind, and a wonderful cook—but he also had a hair-trigger tear duct.
She could feel the love and worry Zhou Jihong had for her. Warmth seeped into her numb heart, which had been dulled in her previous life.
Zhou Shengnan’s lips curved into a faint smile. She reached out and patted her brother’s head.
“Don’t worry. I’ll come back safe.”
Zhou Jihong was still hiccuping through his tears. When he felt Zhou Shengnan pat his hair, he grew a little embarrassed.
He was the older brother. How could he let his little sister comfort him like a child?
Just as Zhou Jihong was starting to compose himself, Zhou Ren’an came over and pressed a palm-sized dagger into her hand.
“When you’re away from home, you’re a young woman traveling alone, so be careful—especially around those dirty louts.
“If any of them dares to bully you, stab him to death. I’ll go to prison for you afterward.
“Sniff… sweetheart, you have to be all right. Your mother’s in the hospital. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you too. If all else fails, the two of us can go rob people on the road!”
Tears streamed down Zhou Ren’an’s face as he wrapped his arms around Zhou Shengnan like a bear hugging a tree. They splattered onto her cheeks.
Buried against her father’s broad chest, Zhou Shengnan felt the warmth of someone’s embrace for the first time in her life. The sensation left her stunned.
She was an orphan. From the moment she could remember, she’d had to compete with other children for everything. She’d learned to disguise herself and read people’s expressions.
Once she was grown and out in the world, she’d spent her life scrambling just to survive.
She didn’t know what the point of living was. She only knew it would be a shame to die just like that. And now, somehow, without even realizing it, she had a family. The feeling was hard to describe.
Cautiously, Zhou Shengnan lifted her arms and hugged Zhou Ren’an back.
“Dad, don’t worry. With my skills, it’s anyone’s guess who’ll rob whom. Just wait for me to bring home some money.”
After calming her father and brother, Zhou Shengnan saw that it was daylight. She took the household registration booklet and went to the Public Security Bureau to get a certificate proving she had no criminal record. Then she rushed to a photo studio and had four two-inch photos taken for her passport application.
This was her first time traveling far from home in the 1980s, but compared with the life she’d often led before—rushing all over the country and working herself like an ox for other people—this was already much better.
Zhou Shengnan even found time to visit the hospital. Her mother, Song Qiaozhen, had just had an injection and was asleep.
She had barely stepped inside when she saw her.
Song Qiaozhen was just as she’d been in the original owner’s memories: gentle, delicate, and frail.
In those memories, Song Qiaozhen was always sitting there, softly calling her name.
She always smelled of snow-cream, with a hint of sweetness—the scent the original owner had missed most.
Now Song Qiaozhen’s face was deathly pale, and the back of her hand was bruised blue and purple from the injections. Zhou Shengnan stared at her, a feeling stirring deep inside her that she couldn’t put into words.
She had a mother now. She had someone who cared about her!
All her life, she’d envied other people for being able to call out “Mom.” She’d called for her in her sleep countless times, but no one had ever answered. Now her wish had come true.
“Mom, don’t worry. I’ll earn enough to get you well.”
Zhou Shengnan bent down gently and rested her head against Song Qiaozhen’s chest, listening to her faint heartbeat and breathing in the warmth that belonged to a mother.
Less than a minute later, Zhou Shengnan straightened up, turned, and left the hospital room.
She was fired up now. How hard could it be to make money?
When she got home, Zhou Ren’an had already tied everything to the bicycle, along with the huge bundle of food Zhou Jihong had made.
How much food was it? Enough to last a month, even if the apocalypse suddenly hit.
“Shengnan, I can’t get away to see you off. Take these frozen pears, okay? You can nibble on them if you get thirsty.”
Zhou Jihong wiped away a tear and stuffed a bag of frozen pears into Zhou Shengnan’s arms.
In weather more than twenty degrees below zero, the pears were frozen as hard as stones. You couldn’t nibble on them; you could probably kill someone by hitting them with one.
When it was nearly time, Zhou Ren’an urged Zhou Shengnan in a hoarse voice to head to the station.
On the way, Zhou Shengnan listened quietly to her father’s repeated reminders. Worry filled his reddened eyes.
“Dad, don’t worry about me. As soon as I get there, I’ll call the newsstand outside our house and let you know I’m safe.”
Zhou Ren’an wiped his tears and nodded. If there had been even one other way out for the family, he never would have let his daughter go off to do something so dangerous.
At the station, Zhou Ren’an bought a bus ticket to Huole. It cost 72 yuan—more than Zhou Shengnan earned in a month.
But there was no other way. You had to invest money to make money.
As the bus was about to leave, Zhou Ren’an helped his daughter tie everything onto the roof, then went over his warnings again and again.
Feeling the fierce love beneath his rugged appearance, Zhou Shengnan stepped forward and hugged him.
“Dad, don’t worry. I’ll come back safe. Once I’ve made some money, I’ll buy you a beeper!”
Then Zhou Shengnan climbed aboard with a huge bundle of food. Zhou Ren’an watched the bus pull away, his heart aching.
He waved his arms and ran after it.
“Sweetheart, be careful! Dad will be waiting for you at home!”
Zhou Ren’an kept running until the bus was out of sight. Only then did he stop.
He was about to pull out a handkerchief to wipe his nose when he felt something unusual in his pocket.
When he took it out, he discovered it was five hundred yuan. Zhou Shengnan must have slipped it in while hugging him.
“That girl! She doesn’t even know whether she’ll have enough money for herself, and she still left some for us!”
Zhou Ren’an smiled as he wiped away a tear. He felt deeply guilty. If he hadn’t been so useless, his daughter wouldn’t have had to go out and risk her life as a shuttle trader.
Zhou Shengnan had no time to worry about her father’s guilt and anxiety. The 26-hour bus ride was no picnic.
Passengers were crammed into their seats with bags piled everywhere. There were even two big roosters on the overhead rack, stretching their necks and crowing!
People chatted, cracked sunflower seeds, smoked, picked at their feet… If Zhou Shengnan hadn’t been unfamiliar with the route, she would have gotten off and walked.
The only times she could get off to use the bathroom and stretch her legs were when the bus stopped for fuel or repairs. The rest of the time, everyone was packed in like sardines.
Even in her sleep, she could hear the roosters crowing. Cock-a-doodle-doo, over and over.
At long last, they reached Huole. Zhou Shengnan stepped off the bus reeking of smoke and engine oil, plucked two feathers from her hair, and nearly burst into tears. She’d finally made it!!!
If they hadn’t arrived when they did, she would have eaten that rooster alive.
As a port of entry to the Soviet Union, Huole was a popular crossing point for shuttle traders.
It also had fairly well-developed amenities and services.
Lots of people hurried along the streets carrying huge bags. They were probably just like her, heading to the Soviet Union to make their fortune.
Carrying all her things, Zhou Shengnan found a guesthouse.
The room rates depended on the accommodations.
A bed in a six-person room cost 1.5 yuan a day, a four-person room cost two yuan, a double room three yuan, and a single room five.
The larger rooms had ordinary bunk beds and a small locker for belongings. Storing any larger luggage cost extra, with the fee based on its size.
Zhou Shengnan paid one yuan a day to store her goods. The six-person room was full, so she had to settle for a four-person room.
She was lucky: for now, she was the only one in it. She put her smaller items in the locker and locked it, then Zhou Shengnan went to ask a travel agency about crossing the border.
The good news was that they had an established application service. For 50 yuan in processing fees plus a 100-yuan service fee, she could get a passport.
The bad news was that it would take at least 15 working days.