The morning mist at Jinpu Station was filled with the smell of coal smoke, sticking to Cheng Suxin's eyelashes coldly. She stood on the edge of the platform, holding the sleeping Lin Nianqi in her arms. Behind her was the city of Tianjin where she had lived for more than a decade, and in front of her was a train about to head south.
Four-year-old Lin Nianqi curled up in her arms, his little hands unconsciously clutching her clothes, as if he knew that his mother was going to take him away from this prosperous yet cold place.
Last night, she burned all the items related to Lin Hesheng. The marriage certificate, the letters he sent home when he was studying abroad, and even the jade bracelet that the Lin family gave her when they proposed marriage were smashed by her. As the flames devoured the paper, she vaguely remembered his heartless face when they divorced.
"The train to Suzhou is about to depart. Passengers who have not yet boarded please hurry up!" a worker on the platform shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing in the foggy platform.
Cheng Suxin subconsciously pulled Nian Xi's patched cotton jacket closer and held the child tighter. Her steps were eager but also a little slow.
The pair of deformed little feet moved with difficulty in the narrow shoes, and every step was accompanied by a slight pain.
A worker in a coarse cotton jacket saw this and quickly stepped forward to hold her arm, saying with concern: "Madam, let me help you."
Cheng Suxin looked at him gratefully and said, "Thank you for your help."
With the help of the workers, she finally boarded the train heading south.
The carriage smelled of tobacco, sweat, and cheap perfume, and the seats were covered with dusty blue cloth.
She found a seat by the window and sat down, settling Nianqi down, then she breathed a long sigh of relief.
With a long whistle, the train started slowly. The clanging sound of the wheels rubbing against the rails seemed to put an end to her past.
Cheng Suxin leaned against the window, looking at the gradually receding platform and the blurred outline of Tianjin city, feeling mixed emotions.
Her eyes fell on the newspaper in her hand, and the article written by Zheng Wanqing came into view. The corners of her lips slightly raised, and she carefully folded the newspaper and stuffed it into her bag. The edge of the newspaper was already frayed, obviously she had read it many times.
The train passed through the North China Plain, and the scenery outside the window gradually changed from withered wheat stubble to fields covered with a thin layer of frost.
The winter sun shone through the clouds, reflecting tiny flashes on the thinly frozen river surface, like a handful of broken glass. Occasionally, it passed over a few ponds, where the remains of a few withered lotus stems were still sealed under the ice.
Nian Xian woke up slowly from his sleep. He rubbed his sleepy eyes, leaned against the window curiously, and pointed at the old cow staggering on the ridge of the field in the distance: "Mom, look! The cow is wearing gloves!" It turned out that the farmer had wrapped the cow's hooves with antifreeze linen.
Cheng Suxin smiled and touched his head, and whispered: "Where we are going, there are also green vegetable plots in winter, and icicles will hang under the eaves..."
"Is it better than Tianjin?" Nian asked, looking up, his black and white eyes full of curiosity.
Cheng Suxin paused and whispered, "It's better than Tianjin."
No matter how good Tianjin was, there was no place for her. After the divorce, she lived with her children in a dilapidated attic in the old city, making a living by washing clothes for others. The well water in winter was freezing, and her fingers were soaked until they turned red and cracked.
Until that day, Zheng Wanqing knocked on her door.
It was a sunny afternoon after the snow, and the sunlight shone through the narrow window, casting a bright light on the floor.
Zheng Wanqing was wearing a light blue dress with a snow-white scarf around her neck. She looked like a beam of light that suddenly shone into her dim room.
"Ms. Cheng," Zheng Wanqing looked at her with a firm gaze, "there is a vocational school for girls in Suzhou, and the principal is an old friend of my grandmother. If you are willing, you can go there to teach embroidery."
Cheng Suxin was stunned when she heard this, and the needle and thread in her hand fell to the ground.
"Why help me?" she asked softly, her voice trembling a little.
Zheng Wanqing smiled, pointed at the delicate plum blossom embroidery on her collar and said, "I have been with my grandmother since I was young, and have been exposed to the works of the embroidery workshop. Your embroidery skills are definitely one of the best in Tianjin. It is a pity that they are buried."
Spring comes earlier in Suzhou than in Tianjin.
Cheng Suxin stood in the courtyard of "Hangzhou Zili Embroidery Workshop", looking at the vines all over the wall and the dark green mountains in the distance, as if she were in another world. The architecture here is a typical water town style, with white walls and black tiles, and winding corridors. In the center of the courtyard there is an old plum tree, which is now blooming with sporadic flowers and a faint fragrance.
Most of the students here were women like her, some escaping arranged marriages, some widowed, and some simply unwilling to be confined to the boudoir. They wore the same blue cloth cheongsam, their hair was tied up behind their heads, and they walked through the corridors in twos and threes, their laughter as clear as bells.
"Suxin?"
A gentle voice came from behind.
Cheng Suxin turned around and saw Shen Rumei coming towards her. This female educator who had studied in Japan was the principal of the embroidery workshop and a close friend of Zheng Wanqing's grandmother.
She was wearing a shabby gray cheongsam, her hair was cut short to the ears, and she wore a pair of round-framed glasses on her nose. She exuded a capable temperament.
"Principal Shen." Cheng Suxin nodded slightly.
Shen Rumei came forward, put the silk on the table beside her, and said with a smile: "The Shanghai Chamber of Commerce will hold an exhibition next month, and I want to send your "Cold Plum Painting" to the exhibition."
Cheng Suxin was startled, her fingertips trembling slightly: "Can my name... also be hung on the display board?"
"Of course!" Shen Rumei smiled and patted her shoulder, her eyes full of encouragement and affirmation, "You are now a technician at Hangzhou Zili Embroidery Workshop. You are not anyone's wife, but you, Cheng Suxin."
Outside the window, Xiao Nianqi was playing with the girls in the yard. He was holding a kite, and his laughter was as clear and loud as a silver bell. That smile was so bright and pure, and he had never shown it in front of Lin Hesheng before.
Cheng Suxin looked at her son, and a warm current surged in her heart, and her eyes could not help but feel slightly hot. She lowered her head and unfolded the newspaper in her hand. At the end of Zheng Wanqing's article, it read:
"Freedom is not about breaking the shackles, but about giving everyone trapped the right to choose a new life."
She gently stroked the line of lead type, a relieved smile appearing at the corner of her lips.
Outside the window, the spring breeze blew, and the old plum tree swayed gently, and the new plums on the branches glowed with tender green in the sunlight.
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