Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

On the third day of the Lunar New Year, Yanjing Railway Station was teeming with people and filled with a deafening roar. The air was thick with the pungent smell of sweat, cheap tobacco, food, and coal smoke, like a thick, dirty rag covering the face of every traveler in a hurry.

Cang Liuqing tightly gripped her six-year-old son Qin Siyuan's small hand in one hand, struggling to drag a heavy, large suitcase through the crowd with the other. She wore a slightly worn navy blue wool coat, her hair neatly tied back in a bun, her face bearing the tension typical of someone on a long journey and a hint of barely perceptible fatigue. Walking slightly ahead of her, her husband Qin Hao, also dragging a large suitcase, had a furrowed brow and his thin lips pressed into a straight line, conveying a sense of suppressed discomfort and resistance. His fine dark gray cashmere coat and gleaming leather shoes contrasted sharply with the noisy, gloomy surroundings.

"Mommy, it's so crowded! My shoes are going to get stepped on!" Qin Siyuan complained in a tearful voice, her little face scrunched up.

"Yuanyuan, be good, hold on tight to Mommy, we'll be in the carriage soon." Cang Liuqing's voice was soothing, but her eyes anxiously scanned the crowded and chaotic platform, searching for the door to the carriage marked "sleeper." This carriage was something Qin Hao had used his connections to get, and it was the only "oasis" on this long, green-skinned journey.

To be honest, Qin Hao was extremely reluctant to embark on this journey. The long and arduous journey was nothing short of a prolonged ordeal for someone like him, a son of a cadre in the capital accustomed to comfort and convenience. What troubled him even more was the prospect of facing that impoverished, remote place, and those "relatives" he had only gleaned from his wife's fragmented descriptions. He couldn't imagine that drastically different life, and even subconsciously equated such abject poverty with something "undignified" and potentially unnecessary trouble.

However, this time he didn't directly refuse his wife's request as usual. The reason was simple: his wife's status and future were different now. She had just graduated with a doctorate in law from Yenching University and was already involved in a major national legal research project, and had even been seconded to an important institution whose very name carried a sense of mystery. His wife's value had suddenly gained a significant weight on the scales of his heart.

His father, a retired cadre who was well-versed in human relationships, privately urged, "Hao'er, Liu Qing's position is different now. She cares about her hometown and values ​​relationships. You should accompany her back. It's not only a matter of marital affection, but also a necessary gesture."

After much deliberation, he reluctantly nodded, but the resistance he felt towards the unknown environment and potential "trouble" lingered in his heart.

He finally squeezed into the relatively quiet sleeper car. The air was slightly better than on the platform, but a stale, musty smell, soaked by countless journeys, stubbornly clung to every inch of it. Qin Hao stuffed his heavy suitcase under the narrow berth, looking at the suspiciously yellowed pillowcase and blankets stained with dander and oil, and felt a churning in his stomach; he didn't even want to sit down. He immediately took out the disinfectant wipes he carried with him and began vigorously wiping the tray table and the iron railings beside the berth.

"Dad, this bed is so dirty! It smells awful! I don't want to sleep! I want to go home! I want to go home and watch cartoons!" Qin Siyuan climbed onto the middle bunk, glanced at it, and screamed.

"Yuanyuan, listen to me! This is how it is on the train." Cang Liuqing said softly, while tidying up her luggage.

She took out the clean sheets and pillowcases she had brought with her to change. Seeing her son and husband's undisguised resistance to the new environment, her eagerness to return home was overshadowed by a weariness of reality. She remembered her parents' expectations hidden in their letters, and the hardships the Cang family had endured; a heavy sense of responsibility weighed on her. She had to make this journey, but her family's discomfort also troubled her.

Watching his wife's busy figure and his son's noisy antics, Qin Hao felt a surge of frustration growing like wildfire. He suppressed his anger and said coldly to his son, "Qin Siyuan, be quiet! If you keep making a fuss, get out of the car and walk back!" These words didn't scare his son; instead, the little guy's lips trembled, and he looked like he was about to burst into tears.

Cang Liuqing quickly climbed onto the middle bunk, hugged her son, and coaxed him in a low voice, taking out the snacks and picture books she had prepared to distract him.

Leaning against the narrow aisle, Qin Hao closed his eyes tightly. The hem of his expensive cashmere coat brushed against a suspicious stain on the edge of his bunk. He pulled away as if electrocuted, the lines between his brows deepening. The clanging of the wheels didn't hit the rails, but rather struck his taut temples. The complex smells permeating the bunk area made his stomach churn. He tried to recall the clean and bright office to ward off the urge, but his mind involuntarily flashed back to the dilapidated old house in Xiqiao Village that his wife had described, and the empty trouser leg of his father-in-law, Cang Yuanzhi. A trace of irritation mixed with a slight sense of guilt welled up in his heart—his wife had been away from home for many years, rarely returning, and this request wasn't unreasonable. He could even understand her sense of compensation for that broken family. But this guilt was instantly overwhelmed by his son's uncomfortable crying, the terrible environment before him, and his disgust at being forced into this "rural entanglement." He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his complicated emotions, feeling only that the journey was endless.

The train rattled and swayed loudly as it traversed the North China Plain and the heart of the Central Plains, finally arriving in Nancheng on the morning of the third day. Stepping out of Nancheng Railway Station, before even having a chance to catch my breath, I immediately squeezed onto an even more crowded and dilapidated long-distance bus bound for Jixian County.

The carriage was crammed with people, luggage, and poultry, the various smells mingling and fermenting, making it hard to breathe. Qin Hao felt his cashmere coat was a burden, and his expensive leather shoes looked extremely awkward on the muddy carriage floor. Qin Siyuan leaned listlessly in her mother's arms, her little face ashen, too weak to even complain, only muttering softly, "I feel uncomfortable."

"Mom...I feel like throwing up..." Qin Siyuan finally couldn't hold it in any longer as the car jolted violently along the winding mountain road. Cang Liuqing frantically pulled out a plastic bag, and the child vomited with a "whoosh." A pungent smell filled the small space.

Qin Hao's face was ashen, his temples throbbing. He forced himself to suppress the churning in his stomach and the suddenly intensified stench in the carriage, turning his head away, his fingers digging into the back of the seat in front of him until his knuckles turned white. A mixture of heartache for his son and disgust for the environment was almost suffocating him.

"Mom, did you ride in such a scary car when you were little?" Qin Siyuan, feeling a little better after vomiting, leaned against Cang Liuqing's chest and asked weakly.

This unintentional question, however, felt like a fine needle, gently pricking Cang Liuqing. A memory flashed before her eyes: leaving home as a teenager to study, crammed into the same dilapidated and crowded bus, filled with both longing and anxiety for the future. Back then, she only wanted to fly away, to fly as far as possible. Now that she had flown away, returning to this path brought such complex feelings.

"Yes, Mommy has ridden it too. Honey, just bear with it, we'll be there soon." She gently stroked her son's hair, her voice slightly unsteady.

After a long and arduous journey, they finally arrived in Ji County. The three of them were disheveled and covered in dust. The bus from Ji County to Futian Township was in even worse condition. The dilapidated carriage bounced wildly along the bumpy dirt road, each jolt feeling like it was shaking their internal organs out of their bodies. Qin Hao felt as if every bone in his body was about to be shaken apart, his expensive suitcase sliding and clattering under his feet, protesting loudly. Qin Siyuan, even weaker after vomiting, leaned against her mother, drowsy, her face as pale as a sheet, occasionally letting out uncomfortable groans.

There were no buses running from Futian Township to Xiqiao Village anymore. Near the township's only parking lot, Cang Liuqing pleaded and managed to hire a dilapidated three-wheeled farm vehicle for several times the usual price. The driver was a thin, dark-skinned man, and the vehicle still reeked of pig manure and mud. Qin Hao looked at the mud-covered cargo bed, which lacked even a decent seat, and his resistance reached its peak. But looking around, apart from a few slowly passing oxen, there were no other means of transportation. He took a deep breath, his breath carrying the distinctive smell of rural dust and animal dung. Almost with a resigned resolve, he first threw his luggage onto the cargo bed, then, pulling his wife and supporting his semi-conscious son, he climbed in with considerable clumsiness.

The tricycle lurched and wobbled along the rough, gravelly, and rutted country road like a drunkard, leaping, swaying, and roaring forward. The billowing dust it kicked up instantly engulfed the three of them. Qin Hao kept his mouth tightly shut, covering it and his nose with his scarf; his expensive cashmere coat was covered in dust. Each violent jolt made him feel like a piece of porcelain about to fall apart. He tried to straighten his legs, attempting to maintain a semblance of dignity in the cramped cargo bed, but his body swayed uncontrollably with the rhythm of the vehicle.

Cang Liuqing held her son tightly, shielding him from the jolting and the cold wind with her body. Her hair was disheveled, and her face was covered with a layer of grayish-yellow dust. Through the hazy dust, she gazed at the land she had desperately fled from, and now returned to, weary from her journey. A complex mix of guilt, responsibility, and trepidation, like the swaying of the carriage, pounded violently in her chest. The hardship of this journey home perhaps foreshadowed that she would face far more than just the smiling faces of her loved ones.

She looked at her listless son in her arms and her husband beside her, whose face was ashen and whose brows were furrowed, her eyes filled with heartache. This journey home was more difficult than she had anticipated.