Jianbing pancakes don’t spoil easily, and dipped in sauce they’d keep me going for a while. With all this, I could manage for the first three to five days. If the boss over there didn’t want me, at least with this food I wouldn’t starve right away—I could think of something else. Anyway, I absolutely did not want to come back.
I’d better prepare some food. That way I could save a bit. Scallions, big and small, plus dozens of pounds of jianbing, all stuffed into one bag.
My father quietly came over and slipped me ten yuan.
I stared in astonishment at that old, limp, creased bill, looking at him in surprise: “Dad…”
“Take it,” he said in a low voice. “Without money, you can’t take a single step. Who knows if you’ll manage to keep the job—when will they even pay wages? Hold onto this and I’ll feel a little more at ease. Don’t shortchange yourself. If it really doesn’t work out, come back—there’s always a way.” He glanced cautiously at the house where they lived.
I nodded and quickly stashed the money away. Who knows how he had saved it up behind Zhao Qin’s back. That he could show me this bit of concern truly moved me.
My dad looked at me and sighed. “It’s me who has wronged you.”
“No, Dad. Someday, when I’ve made something of myself, I’ll take good care of you.”
“Don’t talk like that. Hurry up and put it away safely.”
The moment I tucked the money away, Zhao Qin came out, her cold gaze sweeping over my luggage. I said nothing and didn’t even look at her.
Zhao Qin glared at me and went off to talk to my brother—nothing more than take care of your health, find yourself a wife, s money home quickly, help pay for the wedding. My brother agreed to it all.
Seeing that it was about time, my brother led me away.
A few steps out, I looked back at my dad, feeling a pang of sorrow. Dad, this lifetime, please don’t die so early again, alright? He waved at me, but was pulled back by Zhao Qin.
We hadn’t gone far when we ran into Zhao Hu. His face lit up the moment he saw me, and he beamed, offering to take me into town. I firmly refused.
“I’m not going. Don’t say any more.”
“Just listen to me—”
Without so much as a glance at him, I strode off. My brother pushed Zhao Hu aside too: “She said no, so no. Uncle, don’t trouble yourself.”
Zhao Hu cursed at our backs: “No wonder you got dumped! Stubborn as a rock in a latrine—stinking and hard! Turning down a good life just to go be somebody’s servant—bah! You’ll regret it!”
My brother and I both preted not to hear and strode out of the village.
My brother said, “You’ll be alright. Life out there is hard, but the world is wide open.” He said it with a smile, gazing at the blue sky and white clouds.
I looked over too. Yesterday it had been pouring rain, and now it was so clear. It lifted one’s spirits.
After a while, he suddenly said, “Almost forgot—sis, go change your clothes.”
I looked at him curiously, not understanding what he meant.
“Mom’s right—that place really isn’t great, full of men. You’re young. If you go there and some hooligan takes a fancy to you, that’d be bad. Wear something ragged, smear some dark grease on your face—it’s for your own safety.”
I smiled and agreed, took my bundle to the bushes, put on a patched-up outfit, wrapped some knitted shirts around my waist so I had no figure at all, smeared on the grease my brother had given me—some kind of oil I didn’t know what it was for—piled my hair up, and walked out.
My brother looked me over, then said, “Your hair’s too neat. Come here.”
I walked over, and my brother ruffled my hair into a mess. Then he told me I only needed to wash it once a week.
“Don’t be too clean, and don’t act so timid when you talk, or you’ll get bullied.”
I smiled. I’d already lived a few decades in my past life—how could I possibly be timid? I could hardly even manage to fake it.
Before long, a tractor came rumbling over with several people sitting in it. When they saw my brother, the driver and the others all greeted him with smiles. My brother waved, took my hand, and pulled me up into the trailer.
Before climbing on, I glanced at my reflection in the glass and drew a sharp breath—there was the image of a scruffy, dirty, dark-skinned country girl. At least it was safe, right?
The several people already in the trailer were all around thirty, their skin tanned dark and rough.
Seeing my brother board with me, someone asked, “Is this your older sister?”
I couldn’t help wanting to laugh.
My brother said, “Yeah, she’s a cousin from our neighbor’s family. I’m looking out for her. She wants to earn some money too.”
“That works. We’re just short a cook.” The man sized me up, then turned his head away and stopped looking at me.
I thought that was just fine—saved me the trouble.
They spent the whole ride bragging, talking about the women who chased after them. They smoked home-dried pipe tobacco that was terribly harsh. I sat far away, watching the crops on either side. The furious river from last night had calmed down now.
I saw Song Chuan down by the river, dragging a fishing net through the water. When he spotted us in the trailer, he froze for a moment, then ran barefoot to the bank: “Sis! Sis, what happened to you?”
I hadn’t even expected that he’d still recognize me looking like this. I waved at him: “I’m going out to work!”
“Sis, I’ll come find you someday!”
I smiled. “Go home and have fun!”
“I’m not playing, I’ll wait for you to come back!” He chased after the vehicle for quite a while, until he finally couldn’t keep up, and just stood there panting, waving at me.
My brother said to me, “I think he’s quite fond of you.”
I smiled. “Bro, he’s still a kid. Don’t say things like that.”
“Don’t be so sure. He’s sixteen already this year. Plenty of guys in the village become fathers at eighteen or nineteen. Song Chuan’s a grown young man now. And his mother’s temper is none too good.”
I understood his worry. Even though we’d saved Song Chuan’s life, if any bad rumors started, his mother would probably fight us to the death.
I said with a smile, “Don’t worry. Now that I’m leaving, I won’t come back to the village easily. He won’t see me, and after a while he’ll forget.”
My brother nodded and didn’t bring it up again.
I thought to myself that a pure-hearted kid like Song Chuan was rare these days. I hoped that having gotten his life back this time, he could live a better one.
The vehicle drove on to the next village, where two or three women climbed aboard. All in their forties, all sturdy, they greeted me with curiosity when they saw me.
“Whose family are you from? Never seen you before.”
“The Liu family,” I said quietly. “Going out to earn some money.”
“Your husband can bear to let you go? This work’s no joke. Sleeping out in the wind and rain—you’ll suffer terribly,” said a woman with thick lips.
Another woman laughed. “Isn’t your husband just as heartless? Afraid you’d get a moment’s rest.”
“Hmph, don’t even mention my good-for-nothing husband—I wish he’d just drink himself to death already! If it weren’t for the kids, I wouldn’t have come out at all.”
Another woman chimed in sympathetically: “Isn’t that the truth? The moment my husband heard I was going out to earn money, his eyes lit up. He doesn’t lift a finger around the house—he just relies on me entirely. What about you? What’s your name, and how old are you?”
I let out an “ah”: “My name is… Liu… Liu Dafen. Thirty-eight.”
I had made up a name on the spot. My brother gave a little smile but said nothing.
“How many kids do you have?”
“Four,” I blurted out. In my past life, I had been pregnant four times, but only Jiaojiao had survived.
My brother glanced at me, his eyes full of amusement.
I listened to the women chattering about how naughty and unruly their children were, and my heart ached a little.
My Jiaojiao—both her parents dead, left all alone. Would she be able to keep living well? I hoped she could be strong. The money I had left behind should be enough for her to att university, right?
Just then the truck began to speed up, and the road grew bumpy. We all got mouths full of dust and lost the mood to talk.
I leaned against my brother and slept some more. Sleeping in a truck, you can imagine, was miserable beyond words.
The truck didn’t reach the city until evening. I looked at those streets, so familiar yet so strange—just like thirty years ago, a bit dusty, with crowds of people riding bicycles out of the factories.
A few landmark buildings were still standing, though they wouldn’t last many more years—they’d be demolished sooner or later. The buses were still the oldest kind, rattling and swaying along.
Watching these scenes, I was overwhelmed with emotion. My brother gripped my hand tightly: “It’s all right, don’t be afraid.”
I smiled. Actually, I wasn’t afraid at all.
I had thought we’d go straight to the well-drilling site, but the driver got word that the road ahead was blocked by rain, so he could only have us wait one night and set out again the next morning.
Everyone grumbled when they heard: “Isn’t this just holding things up? If we’d known, wouldn’t it have been better to leave tomorrow?”
The driver said, “There was nothing I could do—I only found out when we stopped for fuel. Let’s hurry and find places to stay. We’ll meet back here tomorrow morning.”
Everyone got off the truck reluctantly and went off to visit relatives and fris.
I walked together with my brother, and the two of us discussed where to sp the night. A hotel would cost at least five yuan a night, and my brother was very reluctant to sp it.
Liu Yaolan and Song Qiankun, the married couple, lived in the city, but from my brother’s manner, it seemed he didn’t want to impose on them either.
I said, “Brother, are you staying with me for my sake? I’m fine on my own. You go your way, and I’ll just get by at the train station for the night.” They were real siblings—I couldn’t compare to them.
My brother refused: “Let’s just go to the train station. I don’t want to be a bother to anyone either—after all, they live with her in-laws.”
I nodded, and the two of us carried our bags and walked on.
The station thirty years ago was shabby everywhere, with no air conditioning or anything of the sort. But at least it was summer, so we could manage somehow. There were quite a few people at the train station, bustling and noisy. My brother and I found a corner to sit down in. When we’d left home, we had brought a few cornmeal steamed buns and some sliced cooked meat—just the thing to take out now.
The two of us sat in our seats eating. My brother had a military canteen, and he went up front to get some hot water. We ate our food and drank our water, watching the crowds come and go, and for a while neither of us said a word.