Chapter 87: Trip to Haicheng (5)

By the time the train pulled into Haicheng station, it was already past ten o’clock at night. Many passengers, groggily asleep on their bunks, were startled awake by the train’s whistle. Blinking at the bright lights of the station through the carriage windows, they rubbed their eyes, grabbed their luggage, and hurried outside.

Haicheng station in this era was far from the bustling hub it would become in later years. The platform was a simple expanse of concrete, with a canopy overhead. Along the middle, every few meters, green-painted benches were placed, where people sat or lay wrapped in thick coats, keeping an eye on their belongings.

The station wasn’t the train’s final stop. Alighting passengers jostled with boarding ones; those going out and those coming in collided, and the crowd nearly pressed each other into contorted shapes.

“Grandma, it’s so late. Are you sure you can manage by yourself?” Jiang Dahai asked, struggling to lift Weng Hong’s luggage off the train, with a trace of concern in his voice.

Before setting out, they had sent a telegram to Haicheng; someone was supposed to meet them at the station and arrange their accommodation for the next few days.

“No need. Grandma has friends in Haicheng,” Weng Hong said, waving him off. She glanced beyond the iron fence and her eyes lit up. “My old friends are waiting outside. No worries, and thank you for helping these past few days.”

She wrapped her deeply sleeping grandson tightly in a cloth sling, lifted a large bag in each hand, and moved briskly away, turning halfway to smile at them.

“Here they are,” she announced cheerfully, though they hadn’t yet spotted anyone.

“Hmph"

The young girl who had shared their carriage earlier snorted as she walked past, shooting them a side-eyed glare. Her high-heeled shoes clicked sharply on the platform as she strode away, clearly still holding a grudge.

“Let’s head out too; maybe they’re already waiting,” Ruan Yuangjiang suggested. Huo Wu nodded, cradling the sleeping girl, and Jiang Dahai held his son’s hand tightly, following with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

Haicheng was the furthest Jiang had ever traveled; he had never been beyond the county seat.

“Grandpa Ruan, our people are over there,” Jiang Yiliu said. His keen eyes immediately spotted a young man standing nearby in a military coat and cap, holding a sign with the names “Ruan Yuangjiang” and “Huo Wu.”

“Hello, Comrade. I’m Jiang Dahai, responsible for bringing them to Haicheng. Here’s the documentation from the county and our team,” Jiang Dahai said, producing the papers.

The young man receiving them smiled warmly, barely glancing at the documents. “You’re traveling with two children, and it’s cold outside. I’ve arranged accommodations for you at the guesthouse. Let’s go there first, and I’ll explain the arrangements for the next few days once we arrive.”

Winter in Haicheng was damp and piercing. The temperature wasn’t extremely low, but the chill cut through like knives, urging everyone to hunch their shoulders and bury their faces in their coats. Even adults found it harsh; grateful, they thanked the young man and followed him.

The guesthouse was modest but comfortable, with private bathrooms and 24-hour hot water. For three adults and two children, they were allocated two double rooms.

Nearby stood Haicheng’s most luxurious hotel, the Overseas Chinese Hotel, meant for foreign visitors. The lower floors were for dining, the upper floors for lodging, ordinary locals rarely stayed there.

As Jiang Yiliu passed the hotel holding his father’s hand, the building was brightly lit. Through the glass, stylish men in suits and women in cheongsams with fur coats moved gracefully, hand in hand. The contrast with Jiang’s group was stark.

He turned back to listen to Grandpa Ruan and the young man, who introduced himself as Xiao Xu from Haicheng’s Foreign Affairs Office. Recently, the office had likely dealt with many cases similar to Ruan Yuangjiang’s.

“For your situation, the government permits emigration. Domestically, we can only process relocation to Hong Kong or Macau. Whether Indonesian or American Chinese, the procedures are the same.”

Ruan Yuangjiang wasn’t a political figure; before being sent down, he had been a professor in Haicheng University’s economics department. His overseas connections and academic standing had drawn trouble. Unlike sensitive individuals, his application didn’t require layers of political review.

“Your case is relatively straightforward. Relatives in Hong Kong submitted the application. For others in Indonesia or the U.S., the lack of diplomatic ties makes it more complicated. Even if approved, life in an unfamiliar city could be challenging.”

Currently, the Public Security Bureau doesn't issue passports for emigration. Applicants received a “Travel Permit to Hong Kong and Macau,” which allowed them to leave with relatives. Upon arrival, they received a temporary residence permit requiring periodic renewal. After seven years, they could apply for permanent residence or, via their relatives, continue to their intended destination.

Xiao Xu glanced at the calm, dignified elder. The Ruan family of Haicheng had once been renowned, owning the city’s flour and textile mills and several garden-style houses, some converted to official residences, others into staff housing.

He had heard stories from elders, respecting Ruan Yuangjiang. During tough times, the Ruan family had donated domestic assets; older citizens of Haicheng spoke highly of them.

Xiao Xu’s parents had worked in the former Ruan Flour Mill. The Ruan family never withheld wages, and assisted workers in need. His grandfather had even received care from Ruan-employed doctors during illness.

Though to the Ruan family it was just one of many charitable acts, to Xiao Xu’s family, the kindness left an indelible mark. That was why he treated them with such respect, ensuring meticulous arrangements for their arrival.

“Your nephew has departed from Shencheng and should arrive at the Overseas Chinese Hotel tomorrow afternoon. I’ll come to the guesthouse to accompany you to meet him.”

“The guesthouse provides three meals a day, with hours posted at the front desk. The Overseas Chinese Affairs Office covers the costs, so you don’t need pay.” Xiao Xu said this with a little fib; the expenses were actually his own, with family support.

Years ago, when Ruan Yuangjiang was framed by Fang Changzheng and the revolutionary faction, those he had helped remained silent. Now, this was all Xiao Xu could do to make amends.

The others were unaware of his inner thoughts, only noticing the efficiency and care of the local official.

Late at night, Xiao Xu finished arranging accommodations and explained the next day’s plans, then departed. Huo Wu and Jiang Dahai escorted him to the door, returning to their room and closing it behind them.

“Uncle Ruan, tomorrow Xiaobao and I will stay at the guesthouse. You and your nephew haven’t met in years, so we won’t disturb you,” Jiang Dahai said.

“After the long journey on the train, it will be good to rest. Tomorrow, Xiaobao and I can have a proper day’s rest,” Ruan Yuangjiang replied after a moment’s thought.

“Then tomorrow, Da Wu and I will accompany Ruanruan to meet Yuan Qing,” he decided.

He would deal with others later, taking Dahai’s group shopping for village-commissioned items after explaining matters to Yuan Qing.

Haicheng it had been so long since he’d been back.

Jiang Dahai exhaled in relief. As a rural man, he didn’t know how to behave in such a high-class hotel; staying at the guesthouse suited him just fine.

Lying in bed, Jiang Yiliu pretended to sleep, listening to the gentle breaths of Ruanruan beside him. His mind, however, was already plotting how to sneak out the next day. He had prepared everything in advance, just waiting to exchange it in Haicheng.

The conversation gradually quieted. Huo Wu and Jiang Dahai went to the adjoining room. The lights dimmed. Jiang Yiliu felt the elder standing by their bed for a long moment, bending to kiss Ruanruan gently.

“Ah"

A sigh, heavy with reluctance.

Jiang Yiliu wanted to open his eyes, to tell him to simply keep Ruanruan, but he dared not. Five years was too long; no one could predict what might happen in between.

Like Ruan Yuangjiang’s choice, leaving was only for the sake of their next meeting.

“Wuwu"

In her sleep, the little girl stirred, kicking off the blanket.

Ruan Yuangjiang tucked it back over her, and straightened the corner for the pretending-to-sleep Jiang Yiliu before quietly leaving.

All night, Jiang Yiliu could hear shifting sounds from the neighboring bed, realizing the elder, like him, had also stayed awake the entire night.

Search This Blog

Outpost Translations

Chapter 87: Trip to Haicheng (5)

Comments

Post a Comment