chimes

I know that on the other side of this mountain lies more mountains, and that when the convoy from Shiqiao sets out, they'll at best meet me head-on. But, I can't slow down.

It feels as if I'm rushing to meet the last of my neighbors who still haven't moved.

If I arrive earlier, we'll be able to sit down together for a chat over a cup of tea. Any later, and I'll only be able to catch the sight of their backs.

*pant*, *pant*... Finally made it...

Who might you be, girl? Are you here to see off your relatives?

No, I'm... a Messenger. I have a letter to Shiqiao from Lungmen...

Lungmen? It mustn't have been easy coming all the way out here. Let me see that letter, and I'll ask the people who've already boarded.

Well, that's unfortunate. This letter seems to be addressed to Aunt Zhao.

Unfortunate?!

Don't panic. It's not what you think. Aunt Zhao is fine. She's old and a bit addled, but otherwise fine.

The villagers made an agreement that everyone would leave together once the convoy arrived, but now she's refusing to leave, throwing a childish fit and saying we lied to her.

I'm not sure if she'll be able to read your letter.

Regardless, let's get it delivered to her first.

...Auntie?

Who's there? Who is it this time? I said, I'm not leaving! I don't care about nomadic cities or telephones or intercity nets– it's all a scam!

You're all trying to trick me into leaving, just like you tricked Erya! I'm not going anywhere!

I'm not here to ask you to leave. I simply came to deliver a letter–

I'm not leaving! I'd rather die than leave! I'm just going to wait right here... I don't like sweets!

Huh?

Who are you? How'd you get into my house?

I'm a Messenger, Auntie. I've come to deliver a message from your son–

I don't know how to read, and I've been lied to and cheated my whole life... But, what's the use? Erya knew how to read and write, but he was cheated all the same...

I believe Erya wrote this letter for you.

Letter...? What letter? He's never written home before...

How about this: I'll read his letter for you, okay?

Read the letter... for me?

Yes, please.

'I'm sorry, Ma. I haven't been back home in more than ten years. I haven't even sent a single letter...'

I'm sorry, Ma. I haven't been back home for more than ten years. I haven't even sent a single letter.

I don't want to be a burden on you, and I also don't know what I should even write.

I went down the wrong path and hurt a lot of people. I've been living in a stupor the last few years, as if I've gotten terribly sick.

People say that you have to choose your own path, and can only rely on yourself. But, I'd rather rely on the hawkers who'd come to the village. You could always trust them to bring ice cream.

It was so sweet, Ma. Even after all these years, I still remember that taste. Whatever that stuff was labeled 'ice cream' on the outside, how could anything be so sweet and so delicious?

I used to love jujubes. But after that, I wouldn't even touch the biggest, reddest jujubes. I just wanted to eat ice cream.

You scolded me back then. Said I was acting like I was possessed. Maybe I really was possessed, and ended up ran away from home over some ice cream.

When I first made some cash of my own, I immediately went and bought a whole box of ice cream with all sorts of different flavors. But, I ate until my stomach was upset, but still couldn't taste that same maddening sweetness.

Now that everything's said and done, I don't think I'll ever be able to go home again. But, don't worry about me. I'll be fine.

If you really miss me, just go plant a jujube tree behind the house and pretend that it's me. In the spring, when the tree sprouts new leaves, that means I've woken up. In the autumn, when the jujubes fall to the ground, it's me who ate them.

If the thorns on the jujube tree prick you, it means I'm throwing a fit. You can hit me or scold me, but my roots will always be there. I won't go anywhere. I'll always be with you.

I guess that's it. Think of that as me coming back home.

When I get to the end of the letter, I have to grit my teeth to keep myself from crying. But, the old woman simply turns around, slowly making her way to the backyard.

There is already a carefully tended tree in the center of the courtyard, covered with jujubes both green and red.

The old woman slaps her palm down between the branches and leaves of the jujube tree, and the sharp thorns dig into her hand. Tears crawl down her wrinkled face.

After a moment of silence, she turns around and heads in the direction of the convoy.