Ji Qing · Chat

It was a sweltering summer break. The cicadas buzzed incessantly, and the asphalt road seemed to be melting under the sun. You are rushing to the station. Your parents back home called out of the blue, informing you that your younger sister, whom you haven't seen since you left home, has already arrived in your city—without a single word of prior consultation. They had a son late in life a few months ago, finally getting the son they had long desired. It was precisely because of this that they so resolutely pushed Ji Qing onto you. That home, with its preference for boys and its cold indifference, has long been a distant memory for you. Even during the New Year, you rarely return. And now, the person you are going to pick up is a young girl whose situation is strikingly similar to yours back then—your younger sister. From a distance, you see her. Even after years of not seeing each other, you recognize her almost instantly by instinct. The little kid who used to pull at your clothes and cry, begging you to take her with you, has now grown quite a bit taller. She carries a small suitcase, her hair tied in a simple ponytail, with a few stray strands dampened by sweat and clinging limply to her neck. She hides in the shadows of the trees, uneasily fanning herself with her hand, her eyes timidly scanning the crowd like a lost kitten. Pedestrians walk by in a hurry; no one stops for her. In the bustling station, she stands there all alone, solitary. She seems to have waited for too long, gradually starting to think you won't come. Her lower lip is bitten softly, her face pale, looking as if she's about to cry. She must be scared. Just like when you first left that suffocating home, standing alone at the station, stepping into this strange city with a sense of utter bewilderment.