North Family Letters

Clutching the few coins she had left in her pocket, Qiuju walked slowly along the street outside the platform. The morning mist in the south was damp, condensing into tiny water droplets on her hair, but she didn't feel cold at all—the money was still at her waist, her second sister's words were still warm, and even the unfamiliar noise seemed to be pushing her forward.

She dared not venture into the bustling city center, instead opting for small inns with simple signs hanging at the entrances of alleys. The cheapest bed cost eight yuan a night, crammed into a room with four bunk beds, shared by other out-of-towners like herself, all hoping to make their way to Guangzhou. The landlady glanced at her faded old coat, asked no further questions, and simply tossed her a thin blanket: "Lock the locker tonight, keep your valuables close to your body, don't be careless."

These words struck a chord with Qiuju, who nodded repeatedly and tightened the cloth bag around her chest.

The cramped room was filled with dialects from all over the country; some people were snoring, while others were whispering business. Qiuju huddled in the corner of the bed, still afraid to fall asleep, her hand always resting on her waist. Only when it was completely light and the cries of vendors carrying loads on shoulder poles echoed through the alley did she quietly get up, wash her face with the cold water at the inn's entrance, and leave with the cloth bag containing the steamed buns.

Remembering her second sister's advice, she didn't talk to strangers and asked for directions as she walked towards the wholesale market. The closer she got to the bustling area, the more her curiosity outweighed her apprehension—the dazzling array of fabrics, trendy clothes, and piles of small general merchandise were all novelties she had never seen in her hometown.

Clutching the hem of her clothes, she slowly looked at each stall, quietly asking questions, not daring to show any fear or wealth. Not good with words, she listened and observed more, silently memorizing the prices quoted by the stall owners, calculating in her mind from the cost of the fabric to the wholesale price difference.

She walked from dawn till dusk, her feet blistered and her stomach growling, yet she only managed to eat half a dry steamed bun. Watching the people around her, each speaking a different accent, haggling over prices, Qiuju suddenly realized that this five hundred yuan wasn't meant to be gambled on; it was something she had to carefully calculate, step by step, penny by penny, to create any hope for the future.

On her way back to the small hotel in the evening, she found a quiet corner and, in the light of the setting sun, gently untied the cloth bag at her waist. The money wrapped in plastic was neatly arranged, not a penny missing. Her fingertips lightly brushed against the crumpled bills, as if touching the way her sisters had pooled their money—her eldest sister's savings, the spare change her second sister had earned from odd jobs, and the money her younger sisters had saved for their food rations, all wrapped in this layer of plastic.

Qiuju retied the money and pressed it back onto her warm skin. When she stood up, the initial panic in her eyes had disappeared, replaced by a more resilient look.

She looked up at the sunset over Guangzhou and knew in her heart that the journey filled with fear and anxiety was over, and the truly difficult road was just beginning.

But she was no longer afraid.

With her sisters' heartfelt wishes tucked into her waistband and the longing for home in her heart, Song Qiuju was determined to establish herself, no matter how unfamiliar or difficult this southern land might be. As dusk fell, Qiuju squatted at the entrance of the alley below the hotel, slowly unfolding the old newspaper she carried in her arms under the dim streetlights. She had just bought this old magazine from a newsstand near the market; it contained a few inconspicuous lines of business information, the edges of which were curled up from repeated readings.

She scribbled on the mud with a twig, muttering to herself as she repeatedly calculated: "A cool, breathable shirt from Guangzhou costs eight yuan. If you ship it to the Northeast, where it's cold and everyone needs to wear thick clothes, it can sell for at least fifteen or sixteen yuan... And this Shanghai brand mechanical watch, it wholesales for thirty-five yuan in Guangzhou, but people in the Northeast, seeing something so rare, are willing to pay fifty yuan..."

As she did the calculations, her hand unconsciously touched the cloth pouch at her waist, the firm bills feeling reassuring against the fabric. These past few days, she had scoured most of the wholesale markets, getting a feel for the market – lightweight fabrics from Lingnan were stylish but not durable, and the harsh winters of Northeast China lacked such fashionable items; old-fashioned watches, worn out by Southerners, were still considered respectable items in the Northeast.

"It's the shipping cost..." Qiu Ju frowned, suddenly remembering the gossip she'd overheard at the hotel. The uncle in the next berth had said that some long-haul truck drivers were willing to give her small packages to help cover her fuel costs. Her eyes lit up, and she quickly wiped the words off the floor and began to carefully calculate the route.

The next morning, Qiuju didn't rush to buy goods. Instead, she went to the freight market near the train station. She found an old man squatting by the roadside smoking, handed him a piece of fruit candy she had been saving for a long time, and timidly asked, "Uncle, where do you usually find trucks that run to Northeast China? I want to transport some goods, small items that won't take up much space."

The experienced driver glanced at her faded trousers and pointed to a small door with a "Freight Broker" sign not far away: "Go in and find Lao Zhou. His truck is going to Shenyang next week, but it depends on the value of your goods; he'll take a cut."

Qiuju's heart tightened. After calculating, she realized that the hard-earned capital for purchasing goods still had to be divided into shipping costs. But when she thought of her sisters in the freezing cold of Northeast China, wearing patched cotton-padded coats and longing for new clothes, she gritted her teeth, turned around, and went to the fabric market.

She spent the entire morning haggling with the stall owner, pleading and haggling until she finally ordered fifty Dacron shirts at a price two cents higher than the wholesale price. The stall owner, seeing her honesty and her promise to buy from her long-term, finally relented. She also asked someone to introduce her to ten brand-new Shanghai watches from a secondhand shop; they were all in excellent condition.

On the day she went to buy the goods, Qiuju got up very early, rented a handcart, and slowly hauled the goods to the freight depot. Her shirts were neatly folded and wrapped in kraft paper; her watch was placed in a small tin box, close to her body in her cloth bag, next to her five hundred yuan capital. Along the way, the cart wheels rumbled over the stone pavement, and she followed behind, her steps steady, sweat beading on her forehead, but her mind clear and focused.

Upon arriving at the freight depot and meeting Lao Zhou, Qiu Ju first checked the goods and then handed over the pre-calculated freight payment—she hadn't shortchanged anyone, and it was exactly enough. Lao Zhou weighed the tin box containing the watch in his hand and grinned: "Young lady, you have good taste. This shipment will definitely make a good deal heading northeast. Just be careful with the bumpy ride; you'll have to keep a close eye on the watch."

"Don't worry, Uncle," Qiuju said solemnly, holding the tin box in her arms. "I'll go with the car and protect you the whole way."

She couldn't bear to buy a seat ticket, so she squeezed into the back of the truck's cab, her legs numb and her back aching terribly. But as long as she kept touching the metal box and cloth bag in her arms, she didn't feel tired. The truck headed north, and the scenery outside the window gradually changed, from the lush greenery of Lingnan to the misty rain of Jiangnan, then to the plains of North China, and finally, snow fell all along the way.

When the train arrived at Shenyang Station, it was snowing heavily. Qiuju wrapped her old coat tighter, carried the cargo box off the train, and her breath instantly condensed on her eyelashes. She first found a cheap guesthouse to stay in, and the next morning she went to the Wu'ai Market in Shenyang.

As soon as I set up my stall, a crowd gathered around. Someone touched the fabric of the shirt and exclaimed, "This fabric is so soft and doesn't wrinkle! It must be from Guangzhou!" Another picked up a watch and held it up to the streetlight to examine the dial: "A Shanghai brand! A rare find! How much?"

Qiuju quoted a price, and some people thought it was too expensive and turned to leave, while others took a liking to it at first sight and bought it on the spot. When the first transaction was completed, she held the crumpled fifty-yuan note, her hands trembling.

By the end of the day, she had sold most of the fifty shirts and three watches. Qiuju packed up her stall, squatted in a corner of the market, and counted her earnings and initial investment over and over again. The setting sun shone through the snow onto her face, and she suddenly smiled—this trip hadn't been in vain.

Back at the guesthouse that night, Qiuju wrote a letter to her second sister, the pen scratching softly on the paper: "Second sister, the goods in Guangzhou are selling well, and everyone's scrambling to buy them here in Shenyang because of the cold weather. I'm planning to get another batch of goods and send them to Harbin. Our old house will be repaired soon."

She folded the letter, tucked it into her inner pocket, and placed it with the stack of capital. The snow was still falling outside the window, but Qiuju lay on the hard bed, feeling the warmth in her arms, and felt completely at ease.

The road between the north and south is still long, and the trade route is still far, but she knows that as long as the goods are there, the money is there, and her sisters' hopes are there, she will definitely be able to make this road wider and wider.