Wen Qiao drank a bowl of millet porridge and ate a vegetable bun and felt full.
Shen’s mother packed up the remaining buns and boiled eggs from the table and handed them to her, earnestly reminding her,
“Take these to eat on the road. The journey from Beijing to Yangcheng is far. You’re my child—how did you choose such a distant place?”
She had originally wanted Wen Qiao to be sent to a production corps somewhere near the outskirts of Beijing, but unexpectedly, Wen Qiao had chosen Yangcheng, thousands of li away.
Fortunately, although Yangcheng was far, the supplies there were relatively abundant—fish, shrimp, rice, and vegetables were all more plentiful than in Beijing.
Shen Yueru also came over, wearing a fake, insincere smile.
“Sister, it’ll be a long time before you’re back. Talk to Mom and Dad more. I’ll go upstairs to help you with your luggage.”
Before Wen Qiao could refuse, she had already scampered upstairs.
Hiding around the stairwell corner, Shen Yueru glared at Wen Qiao with hatred. She hadn’t expected Wen Qiao to act so quickly. Now that the dust had settled, she no longer had the chance to meddle with the assignment for the countryside.
Yesterday, she had been too angry to sleep all night.
Luckily, she had left herself a contingency.
Wen Qiao glanced at Shen Yueru’s retreating figure and let out a sneer.
Finally, couldn’t hold it in anymore, huh?
Shen’s mother watched Shen Yueru leave with a look of relief. Holding Wen Qiao’s hand, she spoke earnestly,
“Qiaoqiao, I know you have some feelings against Yueru. Don’t blame her—she isn’t feeling good either. We kept her here because there was no other choice. If she returned to the Wen family, she would definitely suffer. She’s weak and can’t endure hardship.”
Pausing for a moment, she added,
“When you get to your destination, give us a call to let us know you’re safe.”
Wen Qiao didn’t say much and nodded in a neutral manner. From now on, she and the Shen family were parting ways for good, with no obligations to each other.
Let everyone be at peace.
Standing on the platform, Wen Qiao blinked her bright eyes and looked around. Red, glaring slogans were everywhere:
“Raise vigilance, defend the motherland,” “Grasp revolution, promote production,” and the like.
The crowd flowed like a river, most wearing blue cloth work uniforms, green military uniforms, or white dacron shirts and trousers, carrying artificial leather travel bags or slinging canvas suitcases. Some had nets or large bundles of belongings.
Woo—
A train whistle blew, and a green train huffed white steam as it slowly entered the station. The white sign on the carriage indicated it was heading from Beijing to Yangcheng.
Train attendants in deep blue uniforms stood at the doors, checking tickets one by one.
The crowd surged forward. A wave of heat carried all sorts of mixed smells straight into Wen Qiao’s nose, almost making her gag.
She covered her nose with a handkerchief and squeezed along with the crowd.
Shen’s father had an important military meeting today, so he had sent a guard to escort her personally.
The art troupe had been rehearsing for the upcoming August 1st Army Day performances, and Shen’s mother, as deputy director, was overseeing rehearsals. She also needed to bring Shen Yueru to the troupe to register today—she couldn’t be delayed and couldn’t see her off.
Shen Guiyao had gone to the Wen family to handle her marriage arrangements and hadn’t returned.
As for Shen Guiyuan—forget it.
Wen Qiao thought it was just as well; it would save her from watching any scenes of mother-daughter or sisterly bonds meant to annoy her.
Pushed along by the crowd, Wen Qiao finally boarded the green train.
Left hand covering her nose, right hand holding the ticket, she passed through the long hard-seat section and hard-sleeper carriages before reaching the soft-sleeper compartment.
The environment immediately felt much quieter and free of odor.
A few years ago, when educated youths were sent to the countryside en masse, the Ministry of Railways had set up special trains for them. The policy was still in effect but nearing its final stages. Such trains existed but ran much less frequently. Most were bound for the northwest frontiers, northeast, or southern Yunnan—none to Yangcheng.
Each train now had only one soft-sleeper carriage. Tickets were strictly controlled—only officers of regiment level or above from the military district could purchase them.
Wen Qiao had specifically begged Shen’s father for a soft-sleeper ticket. Though life in this era was tough, she still tried to ensure herself the best possible treatment. She wouldn’t endure any hardship.
The compartment’s sliding door was solid wood, painted deep brown, with a gilded railway emblem on the handle, polished shiny from use.
Wen Qiao slid the door open. Inside, four bunks faced each other in pairs, all covered with white dacron sheets with the Ministry of Railways’ name embroidered in red along the edges. Each bunk had a small brass reading lamp.
The small tabletop under the window was draped with deep green flannel. Compared with the hard-sleeper area, this compartment was far more decent and comfortable. Hard seats were not even comparable.
She had specifically bought the top bunk. While the others hadn’t arrived yet, she quickly climbed up.
Taking a piece of coarse cloth, she made a simple curtain to seal all four sides, then replaced the bedding with clean sheets and duvet covers.
No sooner had she finished than the compartment door opened. The other three passengers came in one by one.
Wen Qiao didn’t show her face, so she couldn’t see who they were.
Before long, the train clattered and hissed with steam, leaving the station on time.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead and took a deep breath.
Now, she finally felt calm.
Now, it truly felt like the dust had settled.
Her first ride on a train in this era had been practically a disaster.
Looking down, she noticed her army-green satchel had been slashed somewhere along the way. Two packs of snacks inside were gone.
Luckily, her clothes remained intact. Had they been cut too, she would have been exposed immediately.
Wen Qiao shivered at the thought—trains in this era were far too unsafe. Fortunately, she hadn’t carried anything valuable.
Before boarding, she had left the heavy canvas suitcase behind to avoid inconvenience and to prevent theft—yet she still hadn’t escaped.
The train quickly started moving toward Yangcheng.
It was still early, so she decided to take a nap to conserve her energy.
When Wen Qiao woke, it was already pitch dark. She had been woken purely by hunger.
She retrieved a box of milk from her space, and the vegetable buns from breakfast were still warm. Exhausted from the day’s exertion, she ate two at once.
Night fell swiftly.
The other three passengers had already lain down. Wen Qiao waited patiently until the compartment was silent, with only the steady breathing of the sleepers. Clearly, they were fast asleep.
She quietly slipped into her space.
Pouring a cup of Spiritual Spring water, she drank it down.
The familiar warmth immediately flowed through her body. Wen Qiao could feel the original weak and fatigued body rapidly recovering and strengthening.
Within a few minutes, she was fully revitalized.
Wen Qiao felt energetic and light.
Only the smell emanating from her body was even worse than last time.
She quickly stepped into the prepared wash tub, beginning to clean off the day’s grime.