Chapter 10: A Glass of Wine

As an inexperienced traveler, Hang Liumei was squeezed here and there by the people next to her. She really didn't understand why everyone was in such a hurry since they already had tickets.

Everyone rushed forward in a hurry. Someone swung his bag backwards and hit another person on the head. Someone stepped on someone else's feet in a hurry to cut in line. Cursing, crying and shouting were endless. Such chaos diluted Hang Liumei's sad mood.

A while ago, a neighbor lady came back from a long trip and told about her adventure on the train. She complained that when she just went to the bathroom, a sneaky-looking man sneaked into her seat. No matter how much she tried to reason with him, he just occupied the seat and refused to get up, as if he didn't understand Chinese. In the end, she was not afraid of trouble and called the conductor to seek justice.

She also specifically pointed at Liu Mei and Liu Zhu to emphasize that some cunning men would target women who were alone, either trying to abduct them or to take advantage of them, so little girls should not be too easy to talk to when they go out.

Hang Liumei still remembers the aunt's angry look, so she imitated her with her eyebrows raised and her mouth turned down. She seized the opportunity fiercely, stood up and squeezed, and stepped into the car door with her long legs.

She clutched her ticket tightly as she searched for her berth. Her mother, feeling sorry for her having to take a day and a night on the train, had bought her a hard sleeper ticket. If she was even slightly slow, she would be urged on by the people behind her.

Hang Liumei's face immediately turned red, but she reminded herself that she had to act a little more domineering. She tucked her chin in and shouted to the back, "Don't rush me. There are a lot of people ahead. If you can walk, just walk!"

After finishing her story, Hang Liumei felt like a seasoned adult. With her two pigtails dangling, she proudly found her bed. It was on the top bunk, and although climbing up and down was a bit cumbersome, she consoled herself by not having to smell other people's stinky feet, and no one would sit on it in dirty pants. It was still pretty good.

Hang Liumei packed her belongings and placed her train tickets, wallet, ID, and pen and paper in a cloth bag her mother had sewn for her. She carried it close to her body. The bag had several small pockets sewn inside, as she had requested. Before she set off, her mother had carefully reinforced the seams.

At that time, Hang Liumei, sitting beside him, said, "This is what a loving mother does: she sews clothes for her son. She sews them tightly before he leaves, fearing he will be late returning."

My mother, whose education level was not high, was influenced by Hang Liumei's daily musings. She knew the meaning of the poem, so she pinched a needle in her hand and pretended to prick Hang Liumei, then feigned anger and said, "I'm afraid you'll be late. Since you know everything, why can't you just listen to me?"

In addition to the cloth bag, her mother also brought her the military water bottle she bought for her wedding. Hang Liumei carried it on her back and went to the end of the carriage to fetch water.

When Hang Liumei came back, the train had already started and all the people in that carriage were present.

Two middle-aged men, thick-shouldered and with dark complexions, sat on one side. They had already set out cups, edamame, peanuts, and braised beef on the small table and started drinking. Hang Liumei recognized the oil paper wrapping the beef; it was from Zhaoji on Ziwu Road, not far from her home.

On the other side sat a mother and daughter, their peach blossom eyes and flat noses identical. Hang Liumei had seen a kind of nesting doll in a foreign country while watching TV at the village entrance. Each doll looked exactly the same, with the larger one nesting inside the smaller one. They were a pair of those dolls.

The little girl was only about five or six years old, with two pigtails. Like Hang Liumei, she was secretly looking at the two men who were eating heartily across from her. However, while Hang Liumei was looking at the people, she was looking at the snacks they were eating.

Hang Liumei put down the stool in the aisle of the carriage, sat by the window and looked at the scenery outside.

People and trees became very small and flashed by in a flash; the farmland was like a book, turning page by page; the overlapping distant mountains moved the slowest.

I haven't been through a tunnel through the mountains yet. Once I left the provincial border, the people were no longer the familiar people, and the mountains were no longer the familiar mountains.

Hang Liumei recited her route in her head—Baoji, Tianshui, Gangu, Dingxi, Lanzhou, Wuwei, Zhangye, Jiuquan. She wondered how many others, like her, would have to ride all the way to the final stop. Before today, the closest she'd ever come to the word "Jiuquan" was when her father bought her some "Jiuquan Five-Spice Dried Tofu."

It was lunchtime, and everyone on the train was getting ready. Hang Liumei, having had a hearty breakfast, wasn't hungry anymore, so she peeled an orange and started eating. She leaned her head against the window, listening to the clatter of the wheels on the track. Then she heard the little girl whisper, "Mom, I want some oranges too."

Hang Liumei turned around and called her, "Little sister, this is for you," and then took out two oranges from her pocket and handed them to her.

The young mother taught her daughter to say thank you. The little girl thanked her shyly and took the oranges. She took one back for herself and gave one to her mother.

What are her grandmother, mother, and sister doing now? Her sister should be back at work at the factory, and her mother and grandmother should be starting to prepare the vegetable garden in the small yard. If she is at home, she will help plant peppers, beans, and melon seedlings.

The mother asked Hang Liumei to sit down and chat with them. They were going to visit relatives in Lanzhou. When asked what Hang Liumei was going to do in Jiuquan, Hang Liumei replied that she was going to Dunhuang via Jiuquan.

"Dunhuang? I heard there's a research institute there, and the director is a well-educated person. Is that where you want to go?"

"Yes, there are two spots available in the school. I took the initiative to apply for the spot to go to Dunhuang and copy the murals."

The mother may not have understood what she was going to do, but she cooperated and gave her daughter an admiring look, lowering her head and repeating the explanation to her daughter: "Niuniu, this big sister went to such a far place alone and is going to be a great artist in the future. Isn't that amazing?"

Hang Liumei was a student at the Academy of Fine Arts. She had her heart set on studying porcelain, but by chance she ended up studying Chinese painting. She was reluctant at first, but as she continued painting, she began to find the joy.

When we were about to graduate, the teacher said that there was an exhibition of Dunhuang mural copies in the city. The Mogao Grottoes were full of national treasures, and students studying art should take a look, so we organized a visit and study tour.

Hang Liumei only thought of it as an outing, but she didn't expect it to change her life.

As she stepped into the exhibition hall, the first thing she saw was the giant scroll "The Deer King's Story", which tells the story of the Nine-Colored Deer who rescued people but was betrayed, so he met the king to tell the truth.

Hang Liumei studied Chinese painting. From ancient times to the present, painting is either from left to right or from right to left. She also learned "Ma Yijiao" and "Xia Banbian", but comic-strip style composition is indeed rare.

She leaned in closer, examining it inch by inch. The mural, primarily in cyan, white, red, and black, was painted with vigorous and powerful brushstrokes. Hang Liumei excelled in the delicate and meticulous fine brushwork, a style so unconventional and whimsical that it was rarely seen. The mural, like a gust of wind, rushed into her world.

Hang Liumei was fascinated by the painting when the teacher came over and called her, "Xiao Hang, come and look at this."

She was led to a painting of the Thousand-Armed and Thousand-Eyed Guanyin. "Any Chinese art student should know Dunhuang," she said. "Look at this copy of a Yuan Dynasty mural. The brushwork and composition are so exquisite. Aren't the flying apsaras in the upper left and right corners different from the usual ones? This isn't just a reflection of aesthetic change; it's also historical data. You're the best student here. This opportunity is rare. You must take a good look."

Yes, this was another kind of shock. The huge sheet of paper was stuffed to the brim, with Guanyin in the center, eleven heads stacked like a pagoda on top, surrounded by a thousand arms. On either side and in the four corners were Apsaras, Jixiangtian, Vasubandhu, and Vajra Dharma Protectors.

Hang Liumei didn't recognize many gods, but she did recognize lines. This meticulous painting employed nearly every line drawing technique known to painters. Compared to the Northern Wei Dynasty murals just mentioned, even color took a backseat to line, and each stroke was executed with the skill of a butcher dissecting an ox.

After returning, she pored over every book she could find about the Mogao Grottoes, captivated by the mysterious Buddhist world nestled on the cliffs. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to read at school, and even less elsewhere. At that age, when her dreams were blossoming, while her peers yearned for their lovers, Hang Liumei began to dwell on a single city.

Later, the school notified the Dunhuang Institute of Cultural Relics to recruit people and arranged two vacancies, but Hang Liumei was not one of them.

Two days later, the teacher called her to the office and told her that the other girl originally scheduled to attend the class had asthma and could not go. Hang Liumei immediately stood up and said, "Teacher, I'm in good health. I'm willing to go!"

The train to Dunhuang had already run into the evening, and the passengers were all ready to rest. Hang Liumei munched on corn and steamed buns with hot water, then lay on her bed to write her first letter home.

"I urge you to drink another cup of wine, for beyond Yangguan Pass there will be no old friends." I didn't drink on my long journey away from home, but instead watched two strangers clink glasses on the road. Life wasn't exactly poetic, it seemed. However, I met new friends on the train, and the saying, "Don't worry about having no close friends on the road ahead, for everyone in the world knows you," came to mind. I remained confident in this journey westward...

Hang Liumei only managed two paragraphs before her eyes were drooping with sleep, so she stopped writing and lay down. The cramped bunk swayed with the train, and the man in the lower bunk snored loudly—a truly terrible sleeping environment. Her mother patted her child to sleep, and Hang Liumei, exhausted from the day, fell asleep to the soft sounds of children's songs from across the room.

The next day, I woke up near noon, and more than half the passengers had left. A conductor came to sweep the trash, and seeing Hang Liumei still sitting on the bed, he raised his voice and asked, "Little girl, where are you getting off? We're almost to Jiuquan!"

Hang Liumei got off the train, asked and looked along the way, and finally found her way to Jiuquan Bus Station.

The area around the bus station was bustling, just like the market back home. Many adults, even those carrying bags, were walking around and looking around. Along the street, there were various specialty shops, all with tables set up outside their low storefronts, displaying goji berries, raisins, hops, and even a shop selling glow-in-the-dark cups.

The cup is as crystal clear and smooth as jade, with thin and transparent walls. When the shop owner demonstrated how to pour wine, the rich purple-red color could be seen even through the cup. The tourists around cheered, and Hang Liumei also wanted to take a closer look, but did not dare to stay any longer.

Two steps further, there was a stall selling fermented skin. This time, Hang Liumei couldn't move.

The stuffed skin here looks similar to the cold skin in my hometown, but the cold skin is chewy while the stuffed skin is soft. The cold skin is mostly seasoned with garlic water and chili oil, while the stuffed skin prefers sesame paste.

Hang Liumei wasn't particularly picky about food; she considered it a blessing to encounter such flavors in a foreign land. After a few bites, the sadness building in her heart and liver was dissolved by the familiar flavors of her stomach. It seemed that matters of the heart still needed to be addressed within the heart.

After finishing the meal, I was just wiping my mouth with a handkerchief when someone called out from afar, "Let's go...Dunhuang...is there anything else..."

Hang Liumei listened to it several times, and it seemed like they were all talking about Dunhuang. She panicked for a moment and asked a woman in work clothes next to her for help: "Sister, I want to go to Dunhuang. Where should I go to catch the bus?"

"Are you going to Dunhuang? Look over there, the bus to Dunhuang is about to leave, and the next one is tomorrow! Why are you still eating? Come on, come on, follow me!"

This living Lei Feng still had half a bowl of stuffed skin left. He threw down his chopsticks, grabbed Hang Liumei, and ran towards the motorcade. As he ran, he turned around and shouted to the boss, "The bowl is right there. I'll be back to continue eating."

Hang Liumei followed her, their footsteps raising a cloud of dust on the dirt road. Seeing that the car had already backed out and was about to step on the accelerator to drive away, she waved and shouted, "Captain Zhang, Captain Zhang! Someone else wants to get in the car! Stop the car!"

The car stopped. Hang Liumei's hair was loose and her shoelaces were untied due to running. The staff member pushed her into the car and said, "Find a seat first and sit down. You can buy the ticket later." Then he gave the driver some instructions in dialect, probably saying that this passenger was careless and he should remind her when they arrived in Dunhuang.

Hang Liumei sat down, and before the car started, she opened the window and leaned out half of her body to look at her. She had long hair with bangs, a pointed face, a pair of thin eyes, two red clouds on her face, and a little sesame paste on the corner of her mouth.

Hang Liumei waved goodbye to her: "Sister, thank you! When you come to Dunhuang, remember to look for me, my name is Hang Liumei——"

Before she could finish her words, the driver yelled at her to pull her head back, and then he yelled at the man: "Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing! Cao Hui! Cao Hui! Don't stand there, tell her to sit back down, or I'll chop her head off as soon as we get out of the car!"