The train pressed forward along the tracks without pause. The low buildings outside the window gradually disappeared as the carriages periodically plunged through dark tunnels, carrying Jiang Mu toward an unknown destination.

Jiang Mu had never traveled so far alone. Unable to close her eyes even for a moment, she gazed at the unfamiliar scenery outside. The railway tracks stretched across treacherous mountain ridges, shrouded in mist, making everything seem as unreal as an animated world. Her thoughts were completely scattered.

Her emotions were complex at this moment. She was heading toward strange surroundings that housed her most familiar relatives. After years apart, she was no longer the willful girl she once was. Back then, she had carried a different surname—she was Jin Mu.

On the day of separation, it had rained heavily in Suzhou. Her father had carried an old black suitcase containing all the belongings he and her brother could take with them. At nine years old, she hadn’t understood what divorce meant—only that her father was taking her brother away to live somewhere far away.

She had tried everything to stop her father from leaving, begging him to let her brother stay, and pleading with her mother not to make them leave. But all she got in return was her parents’ final, bitter argument. She had hidden in a corner, crying in fear. That day, Jin Zhao had simply stood beside her, shielding her from their arguing parents, wordlessly wiping away her tears with his sleeve over and over.

Later, her mother had locked her in her room to stop her protests. From the second-floor iron-barred window, she had watched helplessly as her father led her brother away under a faded plaid umbrella into the downpour.

From the second floor, she had called out their names repeatedly. They had turned to look at her through the curtain of rain. Jin Qiang’s eyes held a complex mixture of helplessness as he called out, “Be good, Mu Mu. We’ll call you when we arrive.”

Jin Zhao had worn his backpack, already showing signs of adolescence, his figure blurring in the heavy rain. As their father pulled him away, Jiang Mu screamed “Father” and “Brother” with heart-wrenching desperation. In her young heart, she had felt strongly that once they left, they would never return.

She had cried until she had no strength left. Through her blurred vision, she had seen a figure running back. Blinking hard, she had watched as Jin Zhao rushed through the rain, climbed onto the first-floor awning, and reached her window.

That was… the last time she had seen her brother. He had been so close, completely drenched, his long eyelashes drooping, rainwater dripping from his forehead onto his prominent nose bridge. With one hand gripping the iron bars, he had pulled out a black Parker fountain pen from his backpack and handed it to her, saying, “This is for you now. Practice your handwriting well, don’t be picky with food, eat your carrots, listen to Mom, and next time…”

The rain had poured into his nose and mouth, making him cough violently before continuing, “Next time we meet, I’ll check how your handwriting has improved.”

As Jin Mu reached through the window to take the pen, her small hand grasped her brother’s as she asked tearfully, “Will you come back?”

The rain had pelted their clasped hands, and a distant lightning bolt had briefly illuminated the night sky, lighting up Jin Zhao’s dark, bright eyes that held all her hopes.

“I will,” he had told her.

But he never returned, leaving only his treasured fountain pen that accompanied Jin Mu for many years.

Afterward, Jiang Yinghan had changed her surname directly. No one would call her Jin Mu anymore; she took her mother’s surname and became Jiang Mu.

In the first few years, she had occasionally received calls from her father, managing to chat briefly with her brother. Jin Zhao would ask about her studies, her progress in guzheng lessons, and whether she had grown taller. With each call, Jin Zhao’s voice seemed different, no longer the childish voice she remembered, deepening through puberty until it became unfamiliar to Jiang Mu.

But Jiang Yinghan hadn’t seemed to like her frequent phone conversations with her brother. Whenever their chats exceeded ten minutes, she would urge her to do homework.

After fifth grade, calls from her father had become rare. She had heard he had remarried, started a new family, and had a daughter. Jiang Yinghan had told her not to disturb them anymore.

After that, Jin Qiang had rarely called. When Jiang Mu learned that her father had another daughter and her brother had a new sister, she fell into a prolonged depression. It felt as if someone had stolen her family—her father’s and brother’s loving gazes were now directed at another child, and that happiness would never belong to her again.

With these new concerns, Jiang Mu could no longer freely call Jin Zhao to complain about failed tests or conflicts with desk mates. She had feared that her father’s new wife might answer the phone. In Jiang Mu’s heart, her father and brother had always been family, but she had to accept that they had gradually disappeared from her life since that rainy night.

After the summer holiday of fifth grade, Jiang Mu had moved twice with Jiang Yinghan. She had tried to call her father and brother to tell them their new address, but each time an unfamiliar woman had answered. Unable to know how to address her, she quickly hung up. Soon after, that number had become disconnected.

She had written several letters to Jin Zhao, telling him their new address and contact information, but had never received any replies or calls. After sixth grade, she had completely lost contact with them.

A year after divorcing Jin Qiang, Jiang Yinghan opened a lottery ticket shop, earning enough monthly income to support their mother-daughter household. Their life had improved, but whenever her father was mentioned, Jiang Yinghan’s face would show displeasure. Gradually, Jiang Mu stopped mentioning her father and brother.

If life had continued on this predictable path, perhaps with Jiang Mu’s grades, she would have entered a good university, found a stable job, and stayed by her mother’s side, possibly never crossing paths with her father and brother again. But in her senior year of high school, she had learned something unexpected that would change the course of her life.