Soul Returns to Hong Kong: From Tailor Shop to Richest Woman

The green train rattled and swayed for more than thirty hours before finally stopping at a drab little station.

When Lin Qian got off the train, his legs were weak. He held onto the heavy canvas bag with one hand and clung to He Dazhu's arm with the other, saying, "Old Dou, I don't think I ever want to take a train again. My bones feel like they're going to fall apart."

He Dazhu didn't reply. He stood on the platform, staring blankly outside. The platform wasn't big, the concrete floor was uneven, and there were people carrying hot water and boiled eggs on shoulder poles nearby.

Lin Lanying placed her purse in front of her and urged in a low voice, "Dazhu, get off at the station first. Don't just stand here in a daze. There are too many people; keep an eye on your luggage."

"Okay, okay." He Dazhu finally came to his senses, bent down, picked up two large bags in one hand, and led his wife and children out with the crowd.

After leaving the train station, we hadn't even reached the village yet; it was just the edge of a county town, and the rest of the journey was particularly arduous.

They first took a dilapidated bus. There wasn't even a place to stand in the carriage. Chicken coops, sacks, and bamboo baskets were piled up at their feet, and the smell made them feel nauseous.

When the bus arrived in town, they switched to a sputtering tractor. The tractor bounced so much on the muddy road that Lin Qian almost threw up the half-eaten steamed bun he had eaten that morning. And that wasn't all; after getting off the tractor, they hitched a ride on an old oxcart.

After changing vehicles three times, the oxcarts stopped moving, leaving only the last stretch of road to walk on foot. It took a full half hour, and by then it was getting dark.

Lin Qian looked at the narrow dirt road ahead, then at the low mud walls, bare rice paddies, and waist-high weeds all around. His pace slowed, and he couldn't help but gasp, "So poor! How can they be so poor!"

He couldn't help but tug at He Dazhu's sleeve and muttered softly, "Old Dou, tell me the truth, you're not thinking of selling us out, are you?"

He Dazhu turned and glared at him: "You idiot, what nonsense are you spouting!"

"No..." Lin Qian couldn't help but mutter, "The further we go, the poorer we get. I'm getting scared."

Lin Lanying raised her hand and slapped him on the back of the head: "Shut up, your father hasn't been back for fourteen years, stop saying such heartless things." Lin Qian immediately covered his head and dared not say a word.

Lin Ying, carrying her small crossbody bag, walked beside Lin Lanying. She didn't speak, but quietly observed everything before her, directly experiencing the gap between the mainland and Hong Kong. It was also 1982, yet the two places seemed worlds apart.

In Hong Kong, they moved into a luxurious thousand-square-foot mansion with an elevator in Taikoo Shing, with a color TV at home, and she even took computer classes at school. But in her father's hometown, in this remote little village, there was only muddy soil, blackened haystacks, and people wearing old gray-blue clothes with weathered faces by the roadside.

Her gaze remained fixed on He Dazhu. Ever since they got off the train, He Dazhu had become increasingly quiet.

As I walked to the village entrance under a thick old camphor tree, an old man carrying firewood came towards me; the old man was very thin and his back was a little hunched.

When he saw He Dazhu, he stopped and squinted at him with his cloudy eyes for a long time.

"Who...who are you?"

He Dazhu put down the heavy bag in his hand and took a step forward: "Fourth Uncle, it's me."

The old man stood there, stunned, for a long time without moving.

He Dazhu said again, "I am He Dazhu, I'm back."

The old man's bundle of firewood slammed heavily to the ground with a thud. His eyes widened as he stared at He Dazhu, scrutinizing him intently. "Dazhu? You're Dazhu?! You brat! You finally decided to come back!"

"Fourth Uncle".

Uncle Si strode over, grabbed He Dazhu's arm, and looked him up and down, his hands trembling: "You've grown taller and stronger, and your face has aged... Oh dear, more than ten years! Dazhu, your father and mother have been waiting for you so long their eyes are almost blind!"

After he finished speaking, he turned around and looked at Lin Lanying and the two children standing behind him.

Lin Lanying immediately stepped forward and said respectfully, "Fourth Uncle."

Lin Ying and Lin Qian also called out, "Fourth Grandfather."

Uncle Si listened to their distinctly Hong Kong accent as they addressed the family of three. They were dressed smartly, without a single patch on their clothes, and their leather shoes were polished to a shine, standing out conspicuously on the muddy road.

Fourth Uncle's face showed both surprise and joy: "Good, good, it's good that you're all back! Come on, I'll take you home!"

He Dazhu hesitated, looking ahead. "Fourth Uncle, is my home... still in the same place?"

Uncle Si sighed: "That old house collapsed a long time ago. A few years after you left, the roof leaked so badly that it was uninhabitable. Your father and mother later built a few mud houses next door. They were too poor to do anything; they were just grateful to have a place to shelter from the wind and rain."

Fourth Uncle led the way, shouting towards the earthen houses along the roadside, "Go quickly and call He Zhong! Tell him his eldest son is back! He Dazhu is back from Hong Kong!"

Before long, the doors of the houses along the road opened one by one, and faces peeked out from behind fences and at the corners of walls.

"He Dazhu?"

"Is that the one who rushed to Hong Kong overnight back then?"

"They're really back? My God!"

"He even brought his wife and kids! Look at what he's wearing!"

The villagers' eyes first fell on Lin Lanying, then on Lin Ying and Lin Qian.

The family of four looked completely out of place in this village. Lin Lanying wore a wool coat without a single patch, Lin Ying's little leather shoes were spotless, and Lin Qian's schoolbag was a brand new one bought from the Xiangjiang Department Store. Even He Dazhu, though dressed unassumingly, wore clothes that fit well and were made of thick fabric. Walking along this dirt road, they didn't look like people from this area at first glance.

The closer He Dazhu got to the newly built mud house, the slower his pace became.

We've arrived. The yard is small, barely enclosed by a low earthen wall. Several bundles of dried firewood are drying by the entrance, and hoes and other farm tools are piled up beside the wall. The roof is covered with gray tiles, and weeds have long since grown in the gaps between the tiles.

He Dazhu stood outside the courtyard gate, looking at the dilapidated courtyard. His feet felt so heavy that he could hardly lift them, and he didn't dare to step inside for a long time.

Uncle Si couldn't hold back any longer and shouted at the top of his lungs into the house, "Big brother! Sister-in-law! Come out quickly! Your eldest son is back!"

As soon as the words were spoken, an elderly man with gray hair and a hunched back rushed out, leaning against the door frame, followed by a thin, frail old woman. Several more men and women, both young and old, then rushed out and crowded around the doorway.

The moment He Dazhu saw those two old faces, tears streamed down his face. His lips trembled violently, and he stepped into the courtyard, kneeling heavily on the muddy ground with a thud.

"Father, Mother."

The old woman froze for two seconds, then suddenly burst into tears, pounding her fists on He Dazhu's back: "You wretched son! You wretched son! You finally came back! You left without a word back then, did you want your mother to cry herself to death?!"

He Dazhu knelt on the ground without flinching, letting his elderly mother beat him, only repeatedly calling out, "Mom, I'm back, your son is back..."

He Zhong stood to the side, his lips pressed tightly together. He stubbornly held back his tears, maintaining his composure.