North Family Letters

On the day of departure, before dawn, Qiuju quietly got up.

She didn't dare disturb her sisters. By the faint light of the snow outside the window, she took out the five hundred yuan she had invested. She wrapped the money tightly in a plastic sheet, stuffed it into a sewn-up small cloth bag, and finally unfastened the hidden clasp of her underwear, tying the bag securely around her waist, close to her skin.

The fabric rubbed against her skin, a stiff wad of cloth hanging heavily in front of her; it was the sentiment of her six sisters, and all her hopes.

She carried a simple cloth bag on her back, containing only a few changes of clothes, a dry, hard steamed bun, and a jug of water that her older sister had given her. Gently pushing open the door of the old house, the cold wind carrying snowflakes stung her face. She glanced back at the dark house, her eyes welling up with tears. Gritting her teeth, she turned and walked towards the train station.

The train station was bustling with noise and filled with smoke. Everywhere were travelers carrying bundles, vendors shouting their wares, and strangers glancing around suspiciously. Qiuju pulled her collar up high, clutched her waist tightly with both hands, and walked close to the wall, her heart pounding.

In all her life, she had never traveled this far alone, much less carried so much money. Every person she passed by filled her with dread, as if their gaze was fixed on her, watching where she had hidden her money.

Buying tickets, having them checked, and squeezing onto the old green train, she hunched over the entire journey, her arms pressed tightly against her waist and abdomen, even her breathing was barely audible. The train clattered and rattled as it started moving, the sound of the wheels rolling over the rails making her eardrums vibrate. The carriage was filled with the mixed smells of sweat, cigarettes, and instant noodles, making her dizzy.

She found a corner seat, not daring to lean back or relax, keeping her back straight and her hands crossed in front of her. When other passengers tried to talk to her, she just kept her head down and gave vague replies, not daring to say another word, much less reveal that she had traveled alone and was carrying money.

Throughout the journey, she dared not close her eyes or fall into a deep sleep. When her eyelids drooped with exhaustion, she pinched her palms to keep herself awake. The carriage was cold at night, so she wrapped her old coat tightly around herself, curling up into a ball. The only warmth she found came from the wad of cash tucked tightly against her skin at her waist.

She couldn't help but secretly touch it with her hand, feeling the hard outline through the clothes and cloth bag, and only then would her heart calm down a little. But the next second, she would immediately be filled with anxiety again—would someone steal it? Would the straps come loose halfway? If the money was lost, she would not only be ashamed to do business, but she would also be letting down her sisters who had pooled their money for her.

When hungry, they would take out a dry steamed bun, take a bite, and swallow it with cold water, not wanting to spend a penny more. When thirsty, they would only sip water, afraid of going to the toilet too often and giving others an opportunity to take advantage of them.

The train traveled south, passing through hazy towns and over fields covered with remnants of snow. The scenery outside the window gradually turned green, and the wind began to warm. But Qiuju's heart remained in her throat, never daring to relax for a moment.

Her sisters' words kept replaying in her mind, she kept thinking about what the old house looked like, what her second sister had said, "A family can be poor, but it cannot fall apart," and she thought about her determination to make something of herself.

The money at her waist was digging into her skin, and it was also digging into her heart.

That wasn't just capital; it was the shared dream of the six sisters, the one she was gambling her entire future on.

After countless days and nights, the train finally slowly pulled into the southern station.

When the car door opened and a warm, humid breeze rushed in, Qiuju still tightly protected her waist and carefully stood up.

The road ahead is unknown, and people's hearts are unpredictable, but what she carries in her arms is not only money, but also the hopes of her entire family.

The anxiety and fear of this journey had only just begun. The green train slowly came to a stop at Guangzhou station just as dawn was breaking.

A damp, warm breeze, carrying an unfamiliar, bustling atmosphere, rushed into the carriage, mingling with the aroma of Cantonese morning tea from the street vendors, the salty smell of the docks, and the shouts of passersby speaking Cantonese, making one's eardrums ring. Qiu Ju slowly moved off the train with the flow of people, her legs still trembling as soon as her feet touched the platform—she had been clutching her money the whole way without closing her eyes, and now she had finally arrived at her destination.

She didn't rush to leave; first, she found a public phone booth by the roadside. The glass cover was sparkling clean, but the coin slot was rusty. Outside the booth, several men carrying burlap sacks were lined up, all eagerly waiting to make a call. Qiuju rubbed her numb hands, pulled a few crumpled coins from her pocket, and thought to herself: First, let me let my family know I'm safe. I'll worry about the money later, once I'm settled.

After waiting for more than half an hour, it was finally her turn. Qiu Ju squeezed into the cramped phone booth, and the glass door closed, instantly shutting out most of the noise outside. She held the receiver, her fingertips icy cold, and dialed the number she knew by heart.

The phone rang for a long time, so long that her heart started pounding again, fearing that her sisters weren't home, or that the person who answered the phone didn't recognize her voice.

"Feed?"

The voice coming through the receiver was a little hoarse from just waking up, but it was so steady that Qiuju felt a lump in her throat—it was her second sister, Song Xiahe.

"Second sister..." she began, her voice trembling, filled with suppressed grievances and exhaustion.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, followed by Xia He's hurried voice: "Qiuju? Is that you? You've arrived?"

"We've arrived, we've arrived in Guangzhou..." Qiu Ju leaned against the cool wall of the phone booth, slowly slid down onto a small stool, and looked down at the worn-out toes of her shoes. "The journey was fine, it's just... the long car ride made me a little dizzy."

"Did you lose anything? Is all the money safe?" Xia He's voice tightened instantly, every word filled with worry.

Qiuju subconsciously reached up and touched her waist. The tightly sewn cloth pouch was still there, a stiff wad of money pressed against her palm through her clothes—it felt reassuring. She sniffed, trying to keep her voice light: "Don't worry, it's tied tightly, I didn't lose it. Nobody talked to me the whole way, I'm safe and sound."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by Xia He's soft breathing, as if she was calming herself down. After a while, she spoke, her voice softening, with a barely perceptible sob: "It's good that you've arrived, it's good that you've arrived. Guangzhou is chaotic, so don't go with strangers when you go out. Find a clean place to stay, don't be greedy for cheap things. Be careful with your money, and if you need more, just tell your family. Don't try to tough it out."

"I know!" Qiuju nodded, then realized she couldn't see at all. She quickly shouted into the microphone, "Second Sister, don't worry, I remember. I'll find a place to stay first, figure out the supply route, and write to you when things are stable."

"Okay," Xia He replied, then added, "Call home and tell your older sister and Dongxue that they're worried about you. Also, eat on time, don't skip meals to save money, you're already weak."

As Qiuju listened, tears finally streamed down her face, landing on the microphone and spreading into a small wet patch. She sniffed and said in a hoarse voice, "Second Sister, I... I will definitely work hard and not let down the five hundred yuan you collected. When I earn money, I will go back and buy you new clothes and fix up the old house."

"Silly girl," Xia He smiled, the sob in her voice lessening, "Don't rush to make money, take care of yourself first. The six of us sisters are together, that's better than anything."

After hanging up the phone, Qiuju held the receiver, her fingertips still warm from its touch. She slowly walked out of the phone booth and stood on the street in Guangzhou, looking at the crowds, the unfamiliar arcade buildings, and the "morning tea" signs lit up on the street. The tension that had been hanging over her all the way finally eased.

The money on my waist was still heavy, and my second sister's words on the other end of the phone were still ringing in my ears.

She took a deep breath of the warm air from Guangzhou, clenched her fist, and silently vowed:

Song Qiuju, you can't lose this time.

You must carry the hopes of your sisters and forge a path for yourself in this southern land.