Chapter Ten: The Journey (Part Two)

After singing a few songs with the crowd, the mood for chatting evaporated. Across from him, Yang Xiuying whispered into Hao Hongmin’s ear, the two lightly nudging each other as they spoke.

At that moment, Hao Hongmin asked, a little embarrassed, “Comrade Han Li, you’ve just boarded the train, so you must not be tired yet, right?”

Han Li replied, “I’m not tired. What’s the matter?”

“I’ve been on the train with Xiuying for two days now, and we’d like to take a nap. Would you mind watching our luggage for us?”

Yang Xiuying nodded, “In the carriage before we transferred, several people had their things stolen.”

“We’ve been too scared to rest since then, but now we really can’t keep our eyes open.”

Han Li naturally wouldn’t refuse such a small favor—he wasn’t tired anyway. “Go ahead and rest. I’ll keep an eye on your things.”

“We’re going to be in the same production brigade as educated youths; there’s no need to be so polite with one another.”

Hao Hongmin said, “Thank you so much, that’s exactly what we think. If you get tired later, we’ll take over and watch your luggage.”

Han Li nodded, but the two women were truly exhausted. Before long, they leaned against each other and drifted off to sleep.

Beside him, Hou Zhenxing still looked troubled, his head bowed, lost in thought. Earlier, it was either farewells or singing together, everyone caught up in excitement. Now, as the energy quickly faded, most people became lazy and sluggish.

Han Li took out the Red Treasure Book from his satchel and began to read. This book not only helped him in daily life, but would also be crucial for his future college entrance exams. He wasn’t worried about other subjects; only Chinese and political studies posed a challenge, with decades of difference in understanding. If he didn’t study seriously, not only would university be out of reach, but everyday life would bring plenty of trouble.

No matter the era, there are always troublemakers—hard labor couldn’t stop them from stirring things up. Even with memories from his predecessor, Han Li felt new insights as he reread the book.

Setting aside the over-interpreted points, one could see that the book was filled with philosophical wisdom. Besides describing various issues, it contained stirring phrases.

For example, the most commanding line: “Ask the vast lands—who shall decide their fate!”

The most triumphant line: “Count the heroes—today is the time!”

The hardest line: “If others do not harm me, I will not harm them; if others harm me, I will strike back!”

The most philosophical line: “Strategically, despise the enemy; tactically, take them seriously!”

The wisest line: “When the enemy advances, we retreat; when the enemy halts, we harass; when the enemy tires, we attack; when the enemy withdraws, we pursue!”

The most encouraging line: “Nothing in the world is difficult if you are willing to climb!”

The most exhilarating line: “The long, winding roads are truly as hard as iron, but now we stride forward from the beginning!”

Han Li found himself unable to put the book down, with so much worth reading carefully.

His reading, however, earned a roll of the eyes from Hou Zhenxing, who even shifted his body further away. Han Li didn’t notice, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared.

Only when the light in the carriage dimmed and his stomach growled with hunger did Han Li set the book aside, taking out his lunch box to eat. Across from him, the two young women continued to sleep deeply, not even stirring.

The train journey lasted three days, and Han Li didn’t encounter any distressing incidents along the way. If anything, it was that some energetic youths began searching for others assigned to the same rural destination. All kinds of connections were made, hints dropped—they implied that everyone should stick together as one.

Only by tightly uniting, they said, could they avoid being bullied by villagers and older educated youths.

Han Li kept his distance from such people, brushing them off with polite laughter. Influenced by Han Li, Yang Xiuying and Hao Hongmin made similar choices.

Only Hou Zhenxing became lively, actively seeking out educated youths headed to the same place.

Han Li, Yang Xiuying, and Hao Hongmin took turns watching over each other’s seats and luggage, while Hou Zhenxing often went out to chat. The three would watch over things for him, since it was a small favor.

Long hours on the train left little desire for conversation; most spent their time sleeping, reading, or eating.

A point worth mentioning was Han Li’s experience with the carriage’s atmosphere when he went to the restroom or fetched water. The air was thick with the smell of sweat—stronger than old Tan’s pickled vegetables. If he hadn’t been sitting by the window and kept it open, he wouldn’t have been able to withstand it.

Whenever the train stopped at a station and there was no breeze from outside, the carriage’s odor grew even stronger. Han Li would stick his head out the window, or cover his nose with the scented pouch his little sister gave him.

It was precisely because of this that, during a stop at a major station, Han Li’s two female classmates came out for some air and spotted him leaning out the window. Surprised and delighted, they ran over excitedly.

They had always thought that if the Han family sent someone to the countryside, it would be Han Chunying, not this precious only son.

When they asked, Han Li stuck to his old story: he cared for his sister, worried about her, and so on.

Some agreed with his reasoning; others dismissed it. But everyone knew the Han family’s situation—the only son would return to the city sooner or later. Their words were laced with envy. Finally, they asked Han Li for his rural address.

They promised to write often, and to meet up when possible. Han Li agreed with a smile.

The commotion from his classmates made the nearby educated youths aware of Han Li’s family background. Across from him, Yang Xiuying and Hao Hongmin looked at him with warmer eyes.

If they had a brother who cared for his sister so much, perhaps they wouldn’t have had to go to the countryside themselves.

As for being approached by female passengers, Han Li was already used to it at school. He handled such situations smoothly; the only difference was that he was more polite now, having left home.

He wasn’t as indifferent as he’d been at school—perhaps an inevitable change when stepping into society.

The two girls across from him were approached often as well, but perhaps they weren’t interested, or already had someone in mind, so their responses were curt.

The benefit of this was fewer annoying encounters—at least for the time being.

In this era, going out required a letter of introduction; only with that could one buy a train ticket. With everyone’s lives so modest, writing letters meant no one traveled, so there was little population movement.

Thus, there weren’t many people on the train, and even at major stations, few boarded. Their carriage was reserved for educated youths, making it relatively quiet.

PS: Thanks to “Embracing Her Is a Habit” for a reward of 100 points.
Thanks to “I Vast I Sky I” for a reward of 100 points.