The air, thick with unspoken words, clung to the ornate wooden table. A single, bare bulb hung from the ceiling, casting stark shadows that danced with the flickering candlelight. The aroma of stir-fried cabbage and steamed rice, usually a comforting embrace, now felt heavy, almost suffocating. CHEN YUE (18), her usually bright eyes downcast, traced the worn pattern of the tablecloth. Her fingers, delicate, trembled slightly. CHEN YUE (A whisper, barely audible)" Mom, Dad… I'm not being naive". Her voice, a fragile thread, snapped the quiet. CHEN MING (40s), her father, sat at the head of the table. His uniform, usually crisp, seemed to sag with the weight of the moment. His gaze, normally sharp, was distant, fixed on a point beyond the peeling paint of the far wall. Across from him, WEI LI (40s), her mother, sat stiffly. Her hands, calloused from years of work, were clasped tightly in her lap. A single tear, a luminous track, carved a path down her cheek, catching the dim light. CHEN YUE "I applied for the adjacent crop farm at the military base where elder brother works". The words, though soft, landed with the force of a hammer blow. Chen Ming's head snapped up. Wei Li flinched, her breath hitching. CHEN HUE (20s), the second brother, lean and thoughtful, set down his chopsticks with a quiet clink. CHEN XUE (18), Chen Yue's twin, usually boisterous, sat rigid, his knuckles white against the table's edge. The silence deepened, punctuated only by the distant, rhythmic clang of a metal gate swinging shut. CHEN YUE "I don't do heavy farm work. I can translate books. Write essays for the newspaper. I don't need to rely on work points". Her voice, once timid, gained a flicker of defiance. She met her father's gaze, then her mother's, then her brothers'. The candlelight caught the stubborn glint in her eyes. CHEN YUE" So I take it as a vacation, right?" .The last words emerged as a mosquito's hum, barely audible, swallowed by the oppressive quiet. Chen Ming's jaw tightened. A vein pulsed visibly in his temple. CHEN MING (His voice, a low rumble)" Yue Yue, do you know how many days it takes to reach the Northeast by train? "The question hung, heavy with accusation. Chen Yue swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. The scent of cabbage, now acrid, pricked at her nostrils. CHEN YUE "It's four days". She mumbled, her gaze dropping to her hands, now twisting in her lap. The table, once a symbol of family warmth, felt like an interrogation chamber. CHEN MING" And the weather is always cold. How are you going to cope with it? You don't know how to do farm work. How are you going to do? Don't think you don't need work points. In the collective work, who will be okay with you not working? Tell me". His voice escalated, rising in pitch, a sharp edge cutting through the air. It was not a question, but an angry demand. Chen Yue's shoulders hunched. The silence that followed was absolute, weighted with her father's fury. CHEN HUE (Softly, gently) "Yue Yue, do you hear anything in the compound and registered for going to the countryside?".Chen Hue's voice, a calm river, flowed into the turbulent space. Chen Yue's head snapped up. Her eyes, wide and startled, met her second brother's. He sat, still, his expression a mask of concern, his gaze unwavering. CHEN YUE "Brother, I… "Her voice died. A knot tightened in her stomach. The distant clang of the metal gate echoed in her mind. The whispers she'd overheard in the alley behind the compound, hushed and furtive, resurfaced. Someone wanted to report her father. In these times, a piece of paper, a baseless accusation, could shatter a family. She'd seen it happen. She wouldn't let it happen to hers. She had acted. Registered. Without a word. But how could she say it? The words stuck in her throat, a bitter lump. She chose silence. CHEN HUE (A long sigh, heavy with resignation) "Yue Yue, do you think we can't protect you so you chose to do this?" The question, laced with hurt, made Chen Yue flinch. A pang of guilt twisted in her chest. She looked at her brother, then at her mother, whose tears flowed freely now, then at her father, his face a grim mask. Xue, her twin, stared fixedly at his plate, his usual cheer extinguished. CHEN YUE (In a small voice, barely audible)" No, brother. I just think that there is no need to complicate things at this time. Brother, I also want to do something. I always don't want to be the protected one. Once, I want to protect all". The words, though small, carried an immense weight. Wei Li sobbed, her shoulders shaking. Chen Ming remained silent, his gaze fixed on nothing. Xue, usually so full of life, sat like a statue. No one knew when those who left for the countryside would return. Some married there, never able to come back. The thought hung in the air, a cold, stark reality. CHEN MING (A deep, rattling sigh, the sound of defeat)" It's already settled. There's no point in dwelling. Prepare everything. Including money and tickets. So that Yue'er doesn't have to suffer. I will call and inform eldest about it". He pushed back his chair, the scrape of wood against the floor a harsh sound in the quiet room. He stood, a tall, imposing figure, yet now, he seemed diminished. Without another word, he turned and left the dining room, his footsteps heavy, echoing down the hall. Wei Li rose slowly, her movements stiff, as if every joint protested. She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron, then looked at Chen Yue, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. She said nothing, but her gaze was a lament. Then she, too, turned and walked away, disappearing into the parental bedroom. Chen Hue placed a hand on Chen Yue's shoulder, a gentle squeeze of comfort, before following his parents. Xue remained, slumped in his chair, staring at the empty space where his father had been. He looked up, his eyes meeting Chen Yue's. His face, usually open and expressive, was now a portrait of bewildered sadness. CHEN XUE (A strained whisper) "Yue Yue… " He knows that yue yue was doing this for him every family has to send atleat one person so it has to be him he also dicided to go but he got a appointment letter from the news agency for him he had taken an exam last month .being a journalists is his dream he always talked about it with yue yue he wants to build his dream but not on his sisters pain. He wanted to shout out But the words caught in his throat. He shook his head slowly, a single tear tracing a path through the grime on his cheek. He pushed away from the table, his movements jerky, and retreated to his room. Chen Yue sat alone at the table, the flickering candlelight casting long, dancing shadows. The scent of food, once comforting, now churned her stomach. The silence was deafening, a vast, empty space where laughter and chatter usually resided. She listened to the distant sounds of her family moving about in their rooms. The house, usually bustling with life, felt cold, desolate. Their home. A three-bedroom bungalow. Her parents' master bedroom in the middle. The large room divided into three smaller parts with wooden blocks for her three brothers. Each space just big enough for a bed and a study table. At the end of the room, a very long book rack, overflowing with books. All her brothers, studious. And her, too. Her mother. Once a maid alongside an aristocratic lady. Studied with her. When the 'big movement' happened, the family fled abroad, releasing their servants. Her mother met her father when she returned to her hometown. He was an army inspector then. After he retired, transferred to the rear, they married. She scrubbed at her eyes, pushing away the thoughts. Sleep. That's what she needed. A long, dreamless sleep. She rose, extinguished the candles, leaving the bare bulb to cast its harsh light. The kitchen, usually a hive of activity, was still. She walked to her room, the wooden floorboards creaking under her weight, each sound amplified in the quiet house. She slipped under her quilt, pulling it tight around her, seeking the elusive comfort of warmth in the cold, silent night.
INT. CHEN YUE'S ROOM - MORNING A faint light filtered through the window, painting the wooden floorboards in stripes of grey and pale gold. The distant sounds of a waking household, the clatter of pots, hushed voices, stirred Chen Yue from her fitful sleep. She stretched, her muscles stiff. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp earth. She sat up, pushing the quilt aside. Her eyes, still heavy with sleep, scanned the familiar confines of her small space. Her bed, a simple wooden frame, occupied most of the room. A small, rickety desk, piled high with books, stood against one wall. On the opposite wall, a faded map of China, dotted with red pins marking cities she dreamed of visiting. She braided her long hair, her fingers nimble, weaving the strands into a tight plait. The silence of her room was a stark contrast to the distant sounds of the waking house. She slipped on a worn, padded jacket, the fabric soft against her skin. She picked up her washing tub and toothbrush, a worn, metal basin and a brush with stiff bristles. She padded out of her room, down the narrow hallway, and out the back door.
EXT. CHEN FAMILY COURTYARD - MORNING The courtyard, usually bustling, was quiet. The well, its stone rim worn smooth by countless hands, stood silently in the center. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of woodsmoke from a distant chimney. Chen Yue approached the well, the metal tub clanking softly against her leg. She dipped the bucket, drawing up cold, clear water. She brushed her teeth, the minty taste a sharp awakening. She splashed water on her face, the icy shock a welcome jolt. She looked around the courtyard, at the small vegetable patch, at the clothesline strung between two ancient trees. Her gaze settled on the kitchen window. Through the glass, she could see her mother, a busy figure, moving with purpose. Wei Li was kneading dough, her movements practiced and efficient. The sight, so familiar, so comforting, brought a sudden welling of moisture to Chen Yue's eyes. She came inside, her steps hesitant. The kitchen, usually a sanctuary of warmth and food, felt different today. Her mother, her back to Chen Yue, continued to knead the dough. The rhythmic slap of dough against wood was the only sound. CHEN YUE (Her voice, a quiet plea) "Mom, are you not going to talk to me?".Wei Li stopped kneading. Her hands, covered in flour, rested on the dough. She turned slowly, her face etched with exhaustion, her eyes red-rimmed. She said nothing. Her gaze, however, was a complex tapestry of sorrow, frustration, and an enduring, fierce love. She reached for a clean bowl, filled it with hot, steaming congee, and placed it on the small kitchen table. Then, she picked up a pair of chopsticks and handed them to Chen Yue. Wei Li's eyes, though swollen, held a stubborn glint. Chen Yue's own eyes, brimming with unshed tears, met her mother's. The air crackled with unspoken emotions. Wei Li's resolve wavered. Her shoulders slumped. WEI LI (Her voice, a gentle murmur, laced with pain) "Yue Yue, my baby. Why are you so impulsive? You could have talked with everyone at home. We could have had a solution other than you going to the countryside". She reached out, her flour-dusted hand gently cupping Chen Yue's cheek. Her touch was soft, a familiar comfort. WEI LI" Baby girl, you have to stop being impulsive. And be calm in the face of crisis. When you go there, you can't be soft and gentle. People often suffer from their own kindness. Honey, you have to remember, there are a lot of suffering people. You can't always empathize with everyone. Everyone has their own way of living. Okay?".Wei Li's voice, though gentle, held a quiet urgency. She pulled her hand away, then turned and gestured towards the door leading to the bedroom. WEI LI "Go back and change. We are going to the supply market to get things for you to take". Chen Yue nodded, a silent acknowledgment of her mother's words. She turned and walked back to her room, her mind replaying her mother's advice.
INT. CHEN YUE'S ROOM - MORNING Chen Yue stood before her small, cracked mirror, staring at her reflection. Her mother's words echoed in her ears: impulsive… calm in the face of crisis… can't be soft and gentle… people suffer from their own kindness. She was indeed impulsive. She always had been. A sudden, sharp shake of her head. She should think more before taking action. But this time… this time it was different. This time, it wasn't just about her. It was about them. Her family. She opened her wardrobe, a simple wooden cabinet, and pulled out a fresh, sturdy cotton dress. She quickly changed, the familiar fabric a small comfort. She smoothed the wrinkles from her dress, then turned and walked out of the room.
EXT. CHEN FAMILY COURTYARD - MORNING The morning air was crisp, the sky a pale, washed-out blue. The sun, still low, cast long shadows across the courtyard. Wei Li stood by the back door, a large, empty woven basket hooked over her arm. Her face, though still etched with worry, held a new resolve. Her eyes, though still red-rimmed, held a flicker of determination. Chen Yue approached her mother, her steps firm. She met her mother's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. The unspoken sorrow remained, a heavy presence, but now, a new purpose had joined it. WEI LI "Ready?".Chen Yue nodded. The mother and daughter duo turned, their footsteps crunching on the gravel, and walked towards the gate, their figures silhouetted against the rising sun. The shopping trip, a mundane task, had taken on a new significance. It was the first step on a new, uncertain journey.
CHEN FAMILY DINING ROOM -NIGHT