Looking at the people around her with thoughts of departure, everything they said and did suddenly felt distant. In this wedding, Qiao Qingyu was already somewhat peripheral, and now she felt even more like an observer of observers, her detached soul completely unable to feel the overwhelming atmosphere of joy.
“Eat quickly.”
A spare rib suddenly appeared in her bowl. Looking up, Qiao Qingyu’s eyes met Li Fanghao’s.
“Cheer up,” Li Fanghao turned her head away disapprovingly, “We haven’t asked you to do much, be more festive!”
Unlike her usual casual style, today Li Fanghao had specially done her hair in a bun. From the side, her smooth, rounded jawline was identical to Qiao Baiyu’s, with two barely visible white hairs at her temples.
Mother is beautiful, Qiao Qingyu thought.
“Be alert and act accordingly, be clever,” Li Fanghao whispered while ladling soup for her, “You’re a grown girl now, be more sensible!”
These ordinary complaints and reminders fell into Qiao Qingyu’s ears like parting words. She nodded silently, withdrawing her suddenly sorrowful gaze, feeling intense sympathy for the completely unaware Li Fanghao.
Strangely, her mother was the first person she had wanted to escape from, yet now she was also the one Qiao Qingyu worried about most.
After the meal, Li Fanghao helped adjust her braided hair, removing the slightly crooked pearl hairpin, repositioning it, and clipping it back into Qiao Qingyu’s neat, fine black hair above her right ear.
“When your father brought the betrothal gifts to my family, there were lots of useless things, but this hairpin was the nicest,” Li Fanghao rambled while carefully checking Qiao Qingyu’s hair—she had already said the same thing this morning. “He said it was very expensive, bought from a department store in Shanghai after he left the army. Mom wore it on her wedding day, but afraid the pearls would fall off, never dared to use it again. Today you’re following the bride, you must look presentable.”
“I know,” Qiao Qingyu’s nose stung as she called out softly but with utmost respect: “Mom.”
In Qiao Qingyu’s view, festive days were usually long and tedious, filled with various impractical ceremonies, and Qiao Jinrui’s wedding was especially so. After lunch, for photography purposes, a group went to the dilapidated ancestral hall at the village entrance, repeatedly setting up tripods and reflectors, all for a few wedding photos that would satisfy Xiaoyun. After nearly an hour of helping with lights and holding up the wedding dress train, Qiao Qingyu was yawning constantly, exhausted.
Hold on, she told herself, the guest reception hasn’t even started yet.
A few minutes later, she was rescued by Lingling, who came to watch the excitement. Handing the bride’s bouquet to Lingling, Qiao Qingyu claimed stomach discomfort and quickly left the ancestral hall.
Crossing the low stone bridge not far from the ancestral hall, it took just a few steps to reach the old house’s courtyard. The dark windows of the old house remained, and diagonally opposite, also on the second floor, rusty iron mesh thicker than a finger firmly sealed another window.
Qiao Qingyu stood between the two windows for a long while, then removed the corsage from her coat.
It was two small white roses that Qiao Qingyu had requested from the wedding planners early that morning, with Qiao Jinrui’s permission, claiming her status as “half a bridesmaid.” Xiaoyun seemed particularly fond of white roses; the black wedding car was decorated like a carefully tended white rose garden. Carefully, Qiao Qingyu took apart the bouquet, broke the wire, and re-wrapped it with baby’s breath and lover’s grass.
Under Qiao Baiyu’s hollow window, she placed one white rose; under Aunt Qin’s wire-meshed window, she placed the other.
You deserve it—
With “pop-pop-pop” sounds, golden streamers shot into the sky from flower tubes, and the watching crowd erupted in applause under the golden rain. Qiao Qingyu followed behind the bridesmaid carrying the wedding dress train, walking along the red carpet strewn with golden streamers to the carefully decorated flower wall at the courtyard entrance. After the bride and groom took their positions, she automatically returned the wine-red leather bag used for red envelopes to the bridesmaid, then stood behind her, continuously taking candy from the cardboard boxes in the corner and passing them to the bridesmaid.
Qiao Jinrui gave her an approving look. Qiao Qingyu smiled silently, closely watching the busy bridesmaid. Sometimes she reached for candy, sometimes helped the bride with her bouquet, and occasionally posed for photos with guests, during which she would lean the wine-red bag against the flower wall, signaling Qiao Qingyu with her eyes to watch it.
Guests kept arriving, and soon the candy boxes were almost empty. A young man took away the empty boxes and quickly brought out two new boxes, placing them side by side against the wall.
After a quick assessment, Qiao Qingyu opened the box with the straighter outer shell—candies without notes.
But Liu Yanfen immediately opened the other box containing noted candies—smiling broadly as she came to take extra candies for a guest’s children.
Qiao Qingyu noticed one child immediately opened the candy box, rummaged around inside, and seeing they were all chocolates, stuck out his tongue in disappointment before carelessly handing the open box to his father. The father, busy chatting with Qiao Haisheng, mindlessly stuffed the candy box into his backpack.
Yet her suspended heart couldn’t relax. Seeing Liu Yanfen coming for more candy, Qiao Qingyu quickly handed over the “clean” candies. After Liu Yanfen left, Qiao Qingyu distributed candy while pondering her next move.
She discovered she lacked the fearlessness she had imagined. No, she didn’t dare to witness people discovering the notes, to watch their expressions change from confusion to seriousness to shock, possibly mixed with considerable excitement—it wouldn’t bring her any satisfaction. She had to leave early.
Another photo session began. As usual, the bridesmaid placed the wine-red bag in a corner by the flower wall, signaling Qiao Qingyu to watch it. The hall clock struck four times, Liu Yanfen walked into the courtyard, and a rural minibus appeared at the corner, due to stop less than twenty meters from the flower wall in half a minute.
This was the perfect moment. Qiao Qingyu pretended to tie her shoelace, crouching down and using her puffy down jacket to completely shield the wine-red bag, then quickly extracted a small stack of red envelopes and stuffed them into her jacket’s inner pocket.
Standing up, no one had noticed anything unusual. The rural minibus passed slowly behind her, while nearby the bride and groom led a group still enthusiastically shouting “cheese.” Just as the minibus stopped, the crowd dispersed, and the bridesmaid turned back to pick up the wine-red leather bag.
More people arrived, looking like Qiao Jinrui’s middle school classmates. This time, Qiao Qingyu took out several boxes of mission-bearing candy, handed them somewhat solemnly to the bridesmaid, then immediately excused herself to use the bathroom and left the flower wall.
She left through the back door of the new house, following the stone path around the enclosed side wall, pulling her down jacket hood over her head, and hurrying to the minibus steps. The driver was closing the door. Qiao Qingyu used one sleeve to cover her nose and mouth while knocking with the other hand, and the door opened again.
After rushing onto the bus, she went straight to the last empty seat.
Through the glass, she could faintly hear laughter erupting not far behind. Checking her down jacket’s inner pocket: ID card, wallet, phone, quote notebook, red envelopes—all there. Looking back, through the spotty window, that brightly lit new building and the gray exhaust from Qiao Jinrui’s group’s minibus became indistinct in the distance, gradually receding, disappearing in an instant.
Her anxiety peaked. Qiao Qingyu took out her phone and tremblingly turned it off—
An hour ahead of schedule, but everything had gone smoothly. Left South Qiao Village at four, Qiaotou Town at four-thirty, and Shun Yun City at five-fifty. By seven-thirty, Qiao Qingyu had reached Tongyang City in the neighboring province—in the opposite direction from Huan Prefecture, a completely unfamiliar place.
This wasn’t her destination.
Though Tongyang was an even more insignificant place than Shun Yun, it had a train station. A train from Guangzhou to Shanghai would pass through here at nine at night, stopping for two minutes. Qiao Qingyu bought a ticket and waited at the simple train station for nearly two hours before finally boarding the green-skinned behemoth that was running half an hour late.
In ninety-three minutes, she would get off at Huan Prefecture for another brief stop.
The train’s rhythmic clanking made her close her eyes several times. In the past two nights, she might not have gotten six hours of sleep total, and she was already extremely tired. But afraid of missing her stop and not daring to turn on her phone to set an alarm, she had to force herself to stay awake. Her final destination was Shanghai, and going to Huan Prefecture was indeed dangerous for her. But that place—she had to visit no matter what.
To stay awake, she borrowed a pen from the conductor and began writing her plans in detail at the back of her quote notebook. She had counted the eight opened red envelopes, totaling 4,208 yuan, which would be enough for her first month’s rent and living expenses in Shanghai. She would quickly find a job, whether as a restaurant server, clothing store clerk, or apprentice at a hair salon—anything would do. The key was to have income. After adjusting, she must live frugally, study while working, take technical school exams, and learn a professional skill. After that… well, that would be several years later, perhaps by then her parents would have forgiven the trouble she was causing now.
The road ahead was bumpy and vast. Qiao Qingyu closed her quote notebook, remembering Qiao Baiyu’s award-winning calligraphy: “There will be time to ride the wind and waves, to hoist the sail and cross the vast sea.” She could easily trace every stroke of each character, like a high-definition photo stored in her brain. Had Mom and Dad thrown away that calligraphy? What a shame.
Anyway, Qiao Qingyu straightened her back and let out a breath, there was nothing to fear. Sister Qiao Huan had gone to work in Huan Prefecture after finishing middle school, and she herself would be an adult in another year—what was there to be afraid of?
She suddenly realized the reason she dared to write her thoughts in the notebook was that she no longer had to worry about Li Fanghao finding it. In that moment she became happy, wanting to scream with joy.
This was the freedom she had dreamed of—
When she reached Huan Prefecture it was nearly midnight, most shops in the arrival hall were closed, and a cold wind blew in from several distant exits, making Qiao Qingyu shiver uncontrollably. She was extremely hungry and tired. Seeing a late-night food stall across the street after exiting the station, she hurried over.
After the steaming noodles were served, she had barely taken two bites when she sensed something was wrong.
Two thugs smoking at another table kept looking in her direction.
Seeing that Qiao Qingyu had noticed, one of them walked over, grinning: “Little sister, running away from home?”
Before he could say another word, Qiao Qingyu stood up and fled outside.
The neon-lit KTV across the street looked like a malevolent monster, several tall thugs stood outside a small hotel opposite, and a softly growling sports car suddenly tore past on the street. The city at night seemed to have changed its face, with prowling wolves and tigers making Qiao Qingyu vigilant and uneasy.
In comparison, the train station with its security guards seemed safer.
There weren’t many chairs in the arrival area, most were occupied, with many people sleeping on them. Qiao Qingyu walked around once, really couldn’t find a seat, and had to lean against a thick pillar, sitting on the ground.
Because she was so tired, she could almost ignore the floor’s coldness. Taking out her phone, she hesitated for a long time before putting it back in her down jacket’s inner pocket.
Hugging her knees, she buried her head deeply, curling into a ball.
“Just hold on for half a day more,” she encouraged herself with forced energy, “In Shanghai, the first thing is to find a hotel, take a good shower, have a good sleep, eat well…”
Before the fragrant rice could fully form in her mind, her consciousness was swallowed by sleep—
When the security guard woke her, Qiao Qingyu’s head was splitting with pain, heavy, her neck feeling like it bore a large stone, unable to process anything.
A distant voice continuously told her she couldn’t sleep there. After struggling for a long while, she sat up, her chest cold. Looking down, she saw her down jacket’s zipper was wide open.
Qiao Qingyu drew in a sharp breath, both hands quickly feeling the inner pocket.
“You can’t sleep here!” The security guard was fierce.
Her wallet, red envelopes, and phone had all vanished.
“You’re a girl so I won’t drag you, get up yourself!”
Qiao Qingyu sat paralyzed: “All my money was stolen…”
The security guard said irritably: “There’s a police post over there, when they start work, go report it yourself!” Turning away, he muttered: “This is a lesson…”
Qiao Qingyu supported herself against the pillar and stood up unsteadily, but before she could steady herself, a wave of nausea hit her, making her dizzy.
I shouldn’t have stopped in Huan Prefecture, she cried out desperately in her heart, holding her burning forehead, letting large tears roll down her cheeks.