Li Jun held her two-year-old son, Xiao Ming, in her arms as she stood on the dirt road at the edge of the village, gazing towards the distant city. The train ticket she clutched was already damp with sweat.
“Mom, I’m hungry,” Xiao Ming squirmed in her embrace.
“Be good, we’ll have something to eat once we find Daddy,” Li Jun said, holding her son tightly. Her husband, Zhang Qiang, had been working in Tianjin for thirteen months now. At first, he would send money home every month and write letters about life on the construction site. But for the past six months, there had been no money sent and no letters received.
“What an ungrateful man!” Li Jun gritted her teeth, recalling the argument she had with her mother-in-law yesterday. Her mother-in-law had pointed a finger at her and scolded, “It’s all your fault for not managing the household! My son is out there working hard to support us while you just sit at home daydreaming!”
“Daydreaming? He hasn’t written in three months and hasn’t sent money in two! How can I not worry?” Li Jun had snapped back. “What if he has another woman out there?”
“Nonsense! My son isn’t that kind of person!”
Men change when they are away for too long; who knows what they might become? Especially someone like Zhang Qiang, who was already vain and liked to show off in front of others. In a big city like Tianjin, exposed to new experiences, who could say he wouldn’t change for the worse?
The thought twisted Li Jun’s heart painfully. “I have to go to Tianjin!”
Once that thought emerged, it could no longer be suppressed. No matter how much her mother-in-law scolded or what gossip circulated in the village, she was determined to go. Until she saw Zhang Qiang with her own eyes and got some clarity, her heart would never be at peace.
The train jolted along the tracks while Xiao Ming had long fallen asleep. Li Jun couldn’t dare to close her eyes for even a moment, afraid of missing something important. She kept looking over the address written by Zhang Qiang’s brother, Zhang Chun; those few words felt like they were about to wear out from her repeated reading.
“Tianjin Tanggu District Construction Site.” Just those few words, but finding it in the vast city of Tianjin would be no easy task.
"Mom, are we there yet?" Xiao Ming rubbed his eyes as he woke up.
"We're almost there, sweetheart," Li Jun said, patting her son's head, though she felt uncertain inside.
Tianjin was bustling with a sea of people. Li Jun had never seen so many before; she was jostled around, holding her child tightly to avoid getting separated.
"Excuse me, how do I get to Tanggu District?" she asked a passerby.
"Take the bus, it's several stops away," the person replied hurriedly and continued on their way.
After searching for a long time, Li Jun finally found the bus station and stood in a long line. The bus was packed like a can of sardines, and Xiao Ming began to cry loudly from the pressure of the crowd.
"How can you bring a child on the bus like this?" someone complained.
"Why is that kid crying? It's so annoying!"
Li Jun's face turned crimson. She wanted to explain but swallowed her words instead. After a long and exhausting journey, they finally arrived at Tanggu District.
But where was the construction site? Li Jun wandered around the streets, clutching her child tightly, her feet sore from walking in circles.
"Excuse me, is there a construction site nearby?" she asked anyone she could find.
"There are plenty of construction sites around; which one are you looking for?"
"I'm looking for my husband, his name is Zhang Qiang. He works under his brother Zhang Chun."
"I don't know; you might want to try somewhere else," came the indifferent reply.
The sun was setting, and Xiao Ming was both hungry and tired, his voice hoarse from crying.
"Zhang Qiang, where are you?"
Just when she was about to lose hope, an elderly woman selling vegetables pointed ahead and said, "There's a construction team over there; you should go ask them."
Li Jun felt as if she had grasped a lifeline and hurried toward that direction with her child in her arms.
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