[ drabble for CNY bc of Graph. also bc i finally get to write about 1960s/1970s CR era ]
It was freezing cold, but she was used to that. What she wasn’t quite used to was waking up on a prison cell floor. Was it even supposed to be Chinese New Year? She wouldn’t have been able to tell from these surroundings. She had almost lost track of the time -- lost track of sleepless nights where communist officers yelled in her face, tried coercing her into signing apology letters, and days of thirst and hunger and beatings.
She still didn’t waver, though. She continued steadfast in her belief, regardless of the public humiliation, the struggle sessions and being forced to keep her tiny feet unwrapped and uncovered. It was all just a misunderstanding. It had to be. She was a communist... right?
Yet, she knew that in some part of Shanghai people were still celebrating regardless of the anti-traditionalist campaigns. She knew that she should be denouncing these people, calling them out on their counter-revolutionary actions. Telling the red guards, students that looked about the same age as her, exactly who these people were and what they were doing.
But she didn’t. For some reason, the hushed whispers and quiet laughter across her city also made her laugh. The little bit of money that the parent had, they gave to their children, and for the first time in ages, the little ones tasted sugar. She wasn’t sure why, but knowing that people had stored up their food for months to celebrate, that some cashed in every ration ticket they had, that people were making do even with the collapse of the Municipal Council... It made her happy.
She was cold, and parched, and her head spun with uncertainty. But the halt in economic trade and shipments meant that she was also weak. And merciful sleep overtook her easily.
She peeked through the cracks in the door -- technically she was not supposed to leave her room but it was much too tempting to take a look at the beautiful decorations and the bountiful feast that was prepared for the official’s family. The city wall had been built a few years ago, and the trade was prospering, and she was growing a little each year.
Yet, she was still lonely. She could not stay with her distant father, who travelled around the country, and lived in the capital. Last time she left her home for too long she got incredibly sick. And since then, she had barely ever seen her father. She didn’t get to meet many others like her either.
She sat down, shivering at the entrance to the dining hall. It was snowing, and even her warmest robes didn’t manage to prevent the cutting chill from reaching her skin.
She wasn’t poor. No, she had tutors and rich food and shelter. She had beautifully bound feet and more intelligence than any other 10 year old would have had. But she would give all that up if it meant she could taste that atmosphere of family joy.
Perhaps it was the cold seeping her consciousness away, but she had not even noticed when footsteps approached her. She slept as a few men chattered and lifted her into warm arms and out of the cold.
It wasn’t until her own sneezes woke her that she realised she was back in her own bed, and two familiar voices chatted behind her screen. The shadows of the two figures stood up and she held her breath, tucking her blankets over her head.
“青华，醒来了吗？” [ Qinghua, are you awake? ]
“打了喷嚏还没醒啊？” [ Think she could sneeze and still not be awake? ]
The second voice was not as familiar, but much younger than her father’s voice, definitely. And her curiosity won over her slight fear of being caught awake -- she peeked out of her blankets to see...
“震亮哥哥？” [ Yongsoo? (Courtesy Name) ]
She whispered as she rubbed her eyes. Was it really him?
The teenage boy quirked his lips into a smile before her father shooed the boy away, placing a warm hand on her forehead to check her temperature.
“这么冷的天为什么坐在外面呢？” [ Why were you sitting outside on such a cold day? ]
Her father questioned her.
She fiddled with the blanket in her fingers, lifting it up to cover a bit more of her face. But he insisted on an explanation for her foolish actions.
“婷婷，干嘛不告诉我呢？” [ Tingting, why aren’t you telling me? ]
“哦，我。。。在看大人的家人一起过年。” [ Ah, I... was watching the official’s family celebrate the new year ]
Her father smiled, somewhat apologetically, at her reply.
“我们今天晚上一起吃好吗？今年跟我们在應天过年好吗？” [ How about we eat dinner together tonight? Would you like to join us for the new year celebrations at the capital this year? ]
Immediately, she sat up, excited, clapping her hands together.
“好啊！好啊！我们现在可以走吗？” [ Sure, yeah! Can we leave now? ]
The boy behind the screen snorted with laughter. The girl watched, giggling, as her father rolled his eyes.
She watched Juchae leave, the bags of food in his hands. Her memories of past loneliness resurfaced with full force. She didn’t envy him. Spending the new year alone... it stung. She shivered, even the thickest down coat would not protect her from the cold radiating from her bones.
Just an offer of food would not heal a wound so deep. It took hope, determination and... well, family. Asia was such a large place. Yet -- the only ones in her father’s home that day were Yong Soo, her father and herself. Some of them might have lost hope in this family, but she... still thought that it was possible. Maybe.
Every day made that image of a content family look stranger and stranger. They had done their best. She had done her best. Yet their family still seemed shattered beyond repair.
It would take more than just a few cartons of food to fix this.
