After fleeing the famine, my older sister and I married the brother next door.

It was as if a hole had been punched through the heavens and earth.

The torrential rain had been pouring down for seven days. Su Xiaoyin huddled in a corner of her attic, tightly hugging her younger sister, Xiaoqing. From downstairs came her parents' anxious calls and the clanging of furniture being moved, but the sounds grew fainter and fainter, gradually being drowned out by a muffled, ever-approaching rumble.

"Qingqing, hold on tight to the bundle." Xiaoyin stuffed the bundle wrapped in three layers of oilcloth into her younger sister's arms. Inside were all the embroidery patterns left by their mother, Lin, a once well-known embroiderer in Jiangnan, as well as two faded needlework manuals.

That was the foundation upon which the Su sisters made their living.

Xiaoqing's hands trembled. Her fingers, which had been sheltered in the inner chambers for sixteen years and had only ever touched embroidery needles and silk, were now covered in years of accumulated dust from the corner of the attic. "Sister, the water...has the water level risen again?"

Before the words were even finished, "BOOM—!"

It wasn't thunder, but something far more terrifying—the sound of walls being smashed open with tremendous force. A murky flood, carrying broken wood and tiles, crashed through the door of the Su family's front hall like a gigantic yellow beast!

"Father! Mother!" Xiao Qing screamed and tried to rush down, but Xiao Yin held her back tightly.

From downstairs came the father's hoarse roar: "Take our daughter away—!" This was immediately followed by the mother, Lin, with an almost shrill response: "Up on the roof! Yin'er, take Qingqing up on the roof!"

Xiaoyin was ice-cold all over, but her fingers suddenly showed astonishing strength. She pushed open the small window in the attic that led to the roof tiles, and the torrential rain poured in. "Qingqing, climb out! Quickly!"

The roof ridge swayed. The two sisters, supporting each other, stumbled and climbed onto the slippery tiles. Looking back, the small courtyard in Huanhua Prefecture where they had lived for sixteen years had become a muddy, yellowish sea. Figures were lurking on the roofs of their neighbors' houses, and on the higher earthen slopes in the distance, a dark mass of people and livestock thronged together. Cries, pleas for help, and the mournful bellows of animals mingled with the wind, rain, and torrent, creating a scene of utter hell.

They didn't see their parents.

All I saw was my father's worn-out indigo coat, which bobbed in the water for a moment before being swept away by a beam that was hurtling across the roof and disappeared in an instant.

"Father—!" Xiao Qing's voice cracked.

Xiao Yin tightly covered her sister's mouth, biting her own lower lip until it bled. She couldn't shout, couldn't attract the raging torrent that couldn't see what was beneath the surface, and couldn't attract... anything more terrifying than the flood in the disaster.

They were trapped on the rooftop for two days and two nights. The torrential rain turned into a drizzle, the floodwaters receded slightly, revealing the gruesome ruins and unbearable sights of floating corpses on the streets. The survivors began to gather spontaneously, discussing their next move in a daze and despair.

"North, only north!" an old man with a missing arm shouted hoarsely. "The south is completely flooded, the mountains have collapsed! Go north, to Longnan Road, I heard it's drought-stricken there, they haven't suffered any disaster!"

There was no other choice. Xiaoyin and Xiaoqing followed this hastily assembled group, trudging along the famine-stricken road. Before setting off, Xiaoyin pulled her younger sister behind a half-collapsed mud wall, rummaging through the ruins.

"Sister, what are you looking for?" Xiao Qing's voice was hoarse, and her eyes were swollen like peaches.

Xiao Yin didn't speak, she just rummaged around with her hands. Finally, she found half a piece of charred firewood and a large, dirty men's coarse cloth shirt that had drifted in from who-knows-where.

She looked up at her sister and herself, their faces haggard and filthy, yet still revealing a beautiful foundation. Along the way, she had seen more than once women or girls with even a modicum of attractiveness being dragged into corners by horrified refugees. Her mother's last look flashed through her mind—a look of worry, but also a warning.

"Qingqing," Xiaoyin's voice was unusually calm, so calm that it didn't seem like that of a sixteen-year-old girl who had just lost her parents, "get your face dirty."

Xiao Qing was taken aback.

Without hesitation, Xiaoyin grabbed the charred charcoal, held it up to the light of a broken earthenware pot covered in mud, and then smeared it all over her face. Her forehead, cheeks, nose, neck… the rough charcoal left streaks on her fair skin, quickly turning it filthy. She then grabbed handfuls of mud, mixed it with rainwater, and smeared it on her arms and bare ankles.

"Sister!" Xiaoqing understood, and tears welled up, washing away some of the mud and grime from her face.

"What are you crying for!" Xiao Yin hissed, her voice trembling. "Our parents want us to live! It's hard to live cleanly, so let's live dirty! Let's live ugly!" She pulled her younger sister over and, with the same rough yet gentle movements, smeared Xiao Qing's face, which was seven-tenths similar to her own, with black smears, leaving only a pair of bright red eyes that were gradually burning with the flame of survival.

They changed into the oversized men's clothing they had found, tore strips of fabric from the hem of their skirts and wrapped them tightly around their well-developed chests. They also cut each other's waist-length hair short, letting it hang loosely before tying it up with dirty strips of cloth. Looking at each other, the once well-known "Su Family Twin Embroiders" of Huanhua Prefecture had become two thin, disheveled "little beggars" whose genders were indistinguishable.

"Remember," Xiaoyin said, holding her sister's cold hand tightly, her voice low but firm, "we are brothers, surnamed Su, and we fled from the south. You are the younger brother, named Su Daqing, and I am the older brother, Su Dayin. Do more work, talk less, and especially don't look those men in the eye."

Xiaoqing nodded emphatically and gripped the other's hand even tighter. The sisters' hands, covered in filthy mud and with black grime under their fingernails, conveyed the only warmth they had left, and all of it.

The journey was more difficult than expected. For the first few days, they barely managed to survive on a few moldy, damp grain cakes dug out of the ruins and the occasional wild vegetable roots they could find along the way. The further north they went, the more people there were, the more desolate the roads became, and the less food they had to eat.

People began to fall in the ranks, never to rise again. Some fought over a stale piece of bread. Scattered bandits lurked around the exhausted group like hyenas.

Xiao Yin always held Xiao Qing's hand, walking in the middle of the group, never falling behind. They rarely spoke, just kept their heads down, searching for anything that could fill their stomachs. Xiao Qing had sharp eyes and could always spot wild vegetables that others overlooked in the crevices of the rocks; Xiao Yin was meticulous, remembering several medicinal herbs her mother had taught her, occasionally picking them, crushing them, and applying them to the wounds of the elderly and children in the group, earning a little gratitude in return, and more importantly—not being ostracized.

They had witnessed a pretty girl, about their age, being dragged away by two men in the middle of the night. The next morning, the girl was found lying in a ditch by the roadside, her clothes disheveled and lifeless. A family heirloom silver bracelet was missing from her wrist.

That night, Xiaoqing trembled like a leaf in the wind in her sister's arms. Xiaoyin just held her tighter, whispering again and again, "Don't be afraid, sister's here. We're dirty, we're ugly, we're safe."

Their faces were never clean again. Every day, new plaster was applied to "reinforce" them. Their once beautiful, slender fingers were now covered in cuts, chilblains, and indelible grime. Only occasionally, late at night, when they were absolutely certain it was safe, would the sisters carefully wipe each other's eyes with a precious little water to prevent infection. At that moment, in the dim moonlight, they could see a glimmer of their former clarity in each other's eyes.

Was it a month, or two? Time blurred; all that remained were endless roads, hungry bellies, and feet blistered and calloused. The group dwindled; the original villagers from Huanhua Prefecture had long since disappeared, and those around them changed wave after wave. But the Su family "brothers" remained together.

On this day, after crossing a barren earthen ridge, the view ahead suddenly opened up.

There was no bustling town as I had imagined; before me lay a relatively flat, yet equally desolate, valley. But in the distance, the outline of a low, rammed-earth wall stood starkly on the horizon! Above the wall, faded flags could be faintly seen fluttering in the wind.

More importantly, large swathes of makeshift shacks stretched out outside the city walls, densely packed together, with wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys. The sounds of people and livestock could be faintly heard.

"We're here...are we here?" A woman holding a baby murmured in the line, her voice filled with disbelief and tears.

"Longnan Prefecture! Qinghe County!" The old man leading the way waved his half-broken cane excitedly, tears streaming down his face. "We've arrived! The end of the road for those fleeing famine! The government said that if we get here, they'll give us a way out!"

A buzz of relief erupted from the crowd, a mixture of weeping, laughter, and shouts of loved ones.

Xiaoyin and Xiaoqing stood on the slope, gazing at the distant city walls and the smoke rising from the chimneys. The wind blew their short, straw-like hair, revealing their beautifully defined jawlines, covered in mud.

Wanqing gently tugged at her sister's tattered sleeve, her voice hoarse: "Sister, have we... arrived?"

Xiao Yin gazed into the distance, her eyes sweeping over the city walls and landing on the faintly visible, undulating, dark green mountain ranges in the distance. The mountains there looked solid and sturdy, unlike the delicate and fragile mountains of the south.

She nodded slowly and heavily, and took her sister's hand.

"Yes, we've arrived."

Beneath my feet lay dry, firm northern soil, mingled with the scent of grass roots and dust—a stark contrast to the damp, now flooded, earthy smell of the south.

A new destiny awaited them on this unfamiliar land. And they had nothing but each other and the bundle of embroidery thread in their arms, a thread soaked with their mother's blood, sweat, and mud.

And fearless of anything.