Jia Lan woke up earlier than usual, though she had barely slept through the night. Today was the day she would take the train back to the capital.
Her eyes opening to the faint gray light that seeped in through the frosted windows. She had barely slept through the night her dreams had been restless, filled with fragments of laughter, faces of her family, and the rhythmic sound of a departing train. The weight of departure pressed against her chest even before she sat up, making the morning air feel colder than it really was.
The house was still quiet, only the faint crackle of the kitchen fire and the soft whistling of the wind outside breaking the silence. She sat on her bed for a long moment, staring at the neat stacks of clothing she had packed the night before. Each fold seemed heavy, not just with fabric, but with reluctance.
She rose slowly, pulling on her warm padded jacket before slipping into her slippers. Her feet brushed against the cool wooden floor as she padded toward the washroom. The cold water stung her face when she splashed it, chasing away the last traces of her sleepless night. She brushed her teeth in silence, gazing at her reflection in the slightly foggy mirror. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her lips soft and pink, and her dark eyes carried a glow that was more than just youth it was the glow of being loved, of being cherished.
She braided her hair neatly, tying it with a silk ribbon her grandmother had slipped into her hands the night before, "to wear on the journey so you won't feel alone." By the time she was dressed, she looked especially radiant. Her winter coat framed her delicate figure, and the faint shimmer of her clear skin caught the morning light that had just begun to brighten. She looked beautiful, a picture of elegance and grace yet her heart was heavy.
But no matter how radiant she appeared on the outside, her heart was weighed down. She didn't want to leave. Not yet.
The winter morning outside was crisp and still, the kind of cold that painted frost along the eaves and left every breath curling like smoke. Yet Jia Lan didn't feel the freshness of it; instead, she felt a dull ache beneath her ribs. Today, no matter how unwilling, she had to leave this warm, bustling home and return to the distant capital.
For a long moment, she stood at the doorway of her room, her hand resting on the frame. The voices of her family floated faintly from the dining hall, cheerful and warm as always. Her chest tightened. She didn't want to go, not yet.
But she had to.
Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage, lifted her chin, and stepped forward.
She stepped into the dining room and found everyone already seated. The table was crowded with steaming dishes hot porridge, fried dough, pickled vegetables, even little meat buns Mother Jia had woken up early to prepare. The food smelled rich and comforting, the kind of breakfast that usually filled the room with chatter and cheer.
But today, the air was different. It carried a quiet heaviness, the kind that pressed down on everyone's shoulders. They ate together, yet the usual bursts of laughter were absent, replaced by faint smiles that never quite reached their eyes. Chopsticks clicked against bowls, but no one reached for seconds with their usual enthusiasm.
Grandmother Jia occasionally dabbed at the corner of her eyes with her handkerchief, pretending she was only wiping away steam. Mother Jia fussed over Jia Lan's bowl, piling it high with food, as if afraid she wouldn't eat properly once she was gone. Even her brothers, who always teased and joked loudly at meals, kept their voices softer than usual, their laughter subdued, as though they didn't want to break the fragile mood.
Every word spoken seemed to carry unspoken reluctance. It was as if the family was savoring not just the meal, but the presence of being together, holding tightly to the moment because they knew it was slipping away.
Mother Jia reached out after the meal, handing her a small cloth bag tied neatly with a red ribbon. "I packed food for the journey. Eat this when you get hungry. There are some snacks too you always get bored on the train," she said, her voice low but tender.
Jia Lan smiled and accepted it with both hands. "Thank you, Mother."
Jia Wei leaned back and teased, "If you don't want to go, then don't go. I'll write a letter to your school and tell them Second Brother needs you at home!"
Jia Zhe quickly added, "Exactly. Why run off to the capital? Your two brothers will take care of you here."
Their laughter was meant to lighten the mood, and Jia Lan giggled along, but her chest still felt tight.
Father Jia didn't join in the joking. He was silent for a moment, then looked at his daughter seriously. "If you don't want to go, you don't have to," he said firmly. "You don't need to work so hard. I will always be here for you."
The room fell quiet at his words. Jia Lan blinked, her nose stinging, and quickly bowed her head to hide the redness in her eyes.
Talking, laughing, and eating stretched time longer than usual, but eventually the hour arrived. It was time to leave for the station.
Everyone went along to see her off, except Xu Li and little Baby Nuan since the cold air might harm the child. Xu Li stood at the doorway with the baby in her arms, waving softly with a smile, though her eyes shimmered faintly with unshed tears.
The journey to the station felt both endless and fleeting. The closer they drew to the train, the more each minute seemed to slip through her fingers. The early morning mist hung low, wrapping the streets in a pale shroud. Their breaths came out in little clouds of vapor, rising and disappearing as quickly as the moments they wished they could hold onto. The clatter of the carriage wheels over the uneven road echoed in her chest like a drumbeat, each turn of the wheel a reminder that time was moving forward whether she was ready or not.
When they finally reached the station, the bustle of travelers was softened by the white haze. Porters shouted, whistles pierced the air, and the distant rumble of engines vibrated through the ground beneath their feet. Father Jia and the brothers moved quickly, their faces set with quiet determination as if efficiency could mask the heaviness in their hearts. Together, they lifted her suitcase, the weight of it seeming heavier than it truly was, and carefully placed it inside the carriage.
Jia Lan stood close by, watching every movement. The worn wood of the platform creaked beneath her shoes, and the iron smell of coal smoke clung to the air. The familiar warmth of her family surrounded her, but already, the sight of the train waiting to pull her away created a hollow space in her chest
The whistle of the train pierced the air. The moment of parting had arrived.
"Take care of yourself!" Grandmother Jia said, her voice trembling as she reached out to grip Jia Lan's hand one last time.
"Eat well, don't catch cold!" Mother Jia added quickly, her tears spilling despite her best efforts. "And don't skip meals just because you're busy your stomach is delicate!"
Even Father Jia's eyes glistened, though he tried to remain composed. He cleared his throat and muttered gruffly, "Call home everyday. Don't just write letters home and make your old man worry."
Second Brother laughed, though his voice cracked. "And don't let anyone bully you! If they do, tell us I'll come running even if it means chasing the train on foot."
"Don't listen to him," Eldest Brother interrupted with a faint smile. "He'd faint halfway. But really, Little Sister, study hard and make us proud."
"Remember to carry the medicine pouch I gave you!" Eldest Brother chimed in, adjusting her scarf as if it were armor. "And wear more layers, you're always catching cold."
"You're fussing too much," Second Brother scoffed, though his eyes were suspiciously red. "She's not a child anymore. Still…" He paused, lowering his voice. "If you feel lonely, just think of us. We'll always be here."
Jia Lan blinked rapidly, biting her lip to hold back a laugh and tears all at once. "You've all given me so many instructions how am I supposed to remember them all?"
"Then remember this one!" Grandmother Jia squeezed her hand again. "No matter where you go, you are our Jia family's treasure. Don't forget that."
Even Father Jia's eyes glistened, though he tried to remain composed.
Both brothers, however, laughed as they hugged her tightly, one on each side. "Go on! Don't look back too many times or the train will leave without you!" Jia Wei joked, while Jia Zhe ruffled her hair playfully.
Jia Lan's own eyes blurred as she hugged them all. Her heart was reluctant, her body heavy, but the train gave its final call. She stepped aboard, waving with both hands as the platform slipped slowly away.
The last thing she saw was her family's figures standing tall against the winter fog, eyes red, but still smiling through it all.