North Family Letters

The transfer order for Song Changqingshan, the father, was the biggest joy for the Xia family that summer.

Returning to the ancient northeastern city after many years with his father, who had been away from the army, my father donned a crisp cadre uniform and became the respected Officer Song. The family of six daughters, from eldest to youngest, had previously been shrouded in the shadow of being destined for the countryside. But my mother had calculated clearly: now that my father was a cadre, the children of cadres were entitled to stay in the city and be assigned jobs—this transfer order was equivalent to opening six doors to survival for the Xia family's six daughters.

The eldest sister was already married and, according to custom, was not included. Of the remaining five sisters, Xia He was the second oldest, pretty, and the most diligent in her studies.

"Dad, now that the policy has been relaxed, can we all stay in the city?" The night before they left, Xia He sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), twisting the hem of her clothes with her fingers, and asked cautiously.

She longed for that opportunity so much. The country lanes were not a place for her; she wanted to stay in the city, work in a factory, wear a polyester shirt, and live a stable life.

The father sat at the table, cigarette ash scattered all over it. He was looking at the demobilization certificate stamped with a red seal, his face expressionless: "Policy is policy, but there are only a few job openings in the team. We have six daughters at home; they can't all be taking up resources in the city."

The mother chimed in, her voice trembling, "Old Song, you have six children. The eldest is married, and there are five left. We have to leave a chance for He'er, right? She's the second oldest, the best-educated, and the most sensible..."

"Sensible?" The father stubbed out his cigarette, looked up, his eyes sharp as knives. "It's precisely because you're sensible that you understand the bigger picture. I'm a government cadre now, a Party member. Sending educated youth to the countryside was a mission of the times. If all six of my daughters had run away, where would I put my face? What would the organization think of me?"

His gaze swept over his five daughters, finally settling on Xia He.

In that instant, Xia He felt as if an ice pick had pierced her heart.

"Dad..." Xia He's voice trembled, "I can go, really. But could you... could you let Fifth or Sixth go? They're still so young..."

She wanted to push, to give the hope of survival to her younger sister. In this family, the older sister was born to give way to the younger sister.

Her father shook his head, his tone resolute: "No one needs to step aside. I've already submitted the application; it's for you, Xia He."

"Why me?!" Xia He finally couldn't hold back anymore, her tears splattering onto the broken table. "I'm the second oldest, there's an older sister above me! I don't understand, why me of all people!"

"Because you're the oldest, because you're most like me." Song Changqingshan stood up, pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back. His voice was as heavy as a thousand-pound stone. "I've been in the army for over ten years, and what I'm taught is to obey orders and consider the bigger picture. I can't break the rules for my own sake. I have to set an example, and you are that example."

He wasn't discussing it; he was issuing a notification.

In that large family of six sisters, in an era when fathers had to be faithful to their duties, her fate, from the moment she was chosen, no longer belonged to her own.

The train roared, and the green carriage was packed with young people as bewildered as she was.

Carrying her bedding roll, Xia He was swept away from the familiar city by the torrent and headed north.

The scenery outside the car window changed from bustling to desolate, finally stopping at the wilderness known as "Beidahuang".

The moment I stepped off the bus, the wind, carrying yellow sand, rushed towards me, blinding my eyes and breaking my heart.

Life in the production team was a hell Xia He had never imagined in her life.

There was no idyllic pastoral scene as she had imagined, only endless heavy physical labor. They had to get up before dawn to harvest wheat, carry water, and dig mud. Although Xia He was considered strong among her sisters, she couldn't withstand such torment. In less than a month, her palms were covered in blisters, which would burst and reopen, eventually forming thick calluses.

They ate dark cornbread and drank well water with an earthy taste.

At night, we slept in a drafty mud-brick house. The kang (heated brick bed) was cold, the quilt was damp, and rats often ran across our faces in the middle of the night.

In summer, it's as hot as a steamer, and you're covered in mosquito bites; in winter, it's freezing cold, and your hands and feet crack and bleed, and it hurts terribly when they get wet.

The other educated youths in her room received money and food coupons from their families, and they were able to live a barely decent life. But Xia He was different; she dared not ask her family for help.

She was afraid her father would find out she was complaining about being poor, and that he would think she, as a "role model" daughter, had disgraced the Song family.

She was even more afraid that if she opened her mouth, she would expose her last remaining hope of escaping her fate.

She swallowed all her bitterness.

She took on the most tiring tasks assigned by the team without saying a word.

When someone bullied the educated youth from the city, she would hide behind them and help mend their clothes, standing up for her sisters who were being wronged.

When she was exhausted, she would sit on the edge of the field, staring blankly at the endless wasteland in the distance for the whole day.

She couldn't figure it out.

My father is a cadre; he could easily have loosened his grip and given the spot to someone else.

He had five sisters in his family, and he could have easily chosen the one who was the most unfortunate to send off, but he chose her instead.

"Dad is a cadre, so he has to set an example."

These words became Xia He's most painful scar on the black soil.

Her youth was buried in this barren soil.

Her dream was shattered by that decision called "the bigger picture".

Spring goes and autumn comes, wild geese fly south and then return north.

Xia He transformed from a fair-skinned city girl into a dark-skinned, rough-handed country woman.

She stopped crying, because tears were useless on this land.

She simply lived silently, like wild grass on a wasteland, tenaciously taking root in the wind and rain, waiting for a future that might never even exist.

Meanwhile, in a distant city, Song Changqingshan, the father who made the decision, was wearing his cadre uniform and continuing his work in his peaceful office.

He might occasionally think of his second daughter, but that longing would soon be drowned out by the heavy workload and the belief in "putting the greater good first." The train rattled and swayed for two whole days and nights before Xia He finally stepped back onto the concrete ground of her hometown in Northeast China.

She carried her faded bedding roll on her back, her trouser legs stained with the black mud of the Great Northern Wilderness, her hands covered in cracks and calluses, her face darkened and roughened by the wind. Standing at the entrance of the familiar alley, she almost didn't recognize herself. This was the first time in three years of working in the countryside that she had been allowed to return to the city to visit her family.

The moment I pushed open the door, the room was bustling with activity.

Father Song Changqing sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), dressed in a crisp cadre uniform, his leather shoes gleaming, talking to his eldest sister about things at the factory. Surrounding them were his third, fourth, fifth, and sixth sisters, chattering away, each dressed in clean clothes, their faces bearing the fair skin and delicate air of city girls.

Upon hearing the door open, everyone in the room turned around in unison.

The air froze instantly.

The eldest sister was taken aback: "He'er? Why are you back?"

The younger sisters were also startled, their eyes wide open, unable to believe that the dark, thin person in front of them, who looked like she had been dug out of the ground, was their once fair-skinned second sister.

Xia He stood at the door, her hand tightly gripping the strap of the tattered bundle, her throat tight, unable to utter a single word.

She watched her sisters stay in the city, warmly dressed, well-fed, without having to work in the fields, endure the cold, or eat hard cornbread. Then she looked at her own hands—covered with cracks, calluses, and frostbitten scars, with dirt that could never be washed off her fingernails.

Tears welled up instantly.

Her father, Song Changqingshan, also saw her.

His face showed no surprise, no heartache, only a cadre-like composure, even a hint of barely perceptible aloofness. He merely raised his eyes slightly, his voice as calm as a stagnant pool:

"I'm back."

There was no "Are you tired?", no "Are you suffering?", no hug, no words of concern.

It was as if he had personally sent her to the Great Northern Wilderness to suffer three years ago, which was just a perfectly normal business matter.

The older sister quickly stepped forward and pulled her up, her voice choked with emotion: "Silly girl, why are you so sunburnt... Come inside, the kang (heated brick bed) is warm."

Several younger sisters also gathered around, calling out timidly, "Second Sister."

They looked at her rough hands, chapped face, and faded old cotton-padded jacket, their eyes filled with sympathy, fear, and a sense of relief that "thankfully it wasn't me."

Xia He's heart sank little by little to the bottom of the ice.

She finally understood.

The father's official status ensured a stable life for all five daughters in the family.

The eldest sister stayed in the city and got a job in a factory, while the younger sisters didn't have to go to the countryside and stayed with their parents to enjoy their retirement.

Only her.

Only Xia He was pushed out by her father and made a sacrifice for "leading by example as a Party member." She was exposed to the wind and sun in the Great Northern Wilderness, earning work points, going hungry, and freezing so much that she couldn't sleep all night.

She single-handedly ensured the safety and well-being of her entire family.

"Dad," Xia He said, her voice hoarse and unlike her own, "For the past three years, I've been living in the countryside... and I've wanted to go home every single day."

The father looked up, his gaze still serious: "It's good that you're back. Take a few days to rest and recuperate, and don't delay your return to the team. Young man, it's only right that you endure some hardship."

A single, understated sentence crushed all her grievances.

The eldest sister secretly wiped away her tears, and the younger sisters lowered their heads, not daring to speak.

Standing in the warm and bright room, looking at her peaceful and happy family, Xia He suddenly felt like an outsider.

She was the second eldest sister in the family, yet she was the one pushed out by the whole family to shield them from the storms of life.

The northeast wind still howled outside the window, but even the warmest kang (heated brick bed) inside couldn't warm her heart, which had been frozen solid in the Great Northern Wilderness.