On New Year's Eve, nothing can be seen outside the window, only far and near, red and white, colorful lights, flickering outside the window. This is the spring of 1978.
Xiaohua withdrew her eyes from the window and looked down at her watch. The hour hand was pointing to zero point one. She cut the hair on her forehead, put the long black braid behind her ear, then rubbed some red and bloodshot eyes, turned around and took out a small mirror from the old bag hanging in the window. She turned around and let her face cover the white light in the carriage and reflected it in Fangfang's small mirror.
This is a square, chubby face: straight nose, small lips, each embedded in their own moderate parts; The chin and forehead protrude slightly forward; Under the pale black eyebrows, there are a pair of eyes as quiet as a deep pool. When they roll occasionally, they emit microwave flashes.
She has never examined her young and beautiful features so carefully. However, looking at it, she found that her dark eyes in the mirror were full of tears. She nervously held the little mirror to her chest and looked around nervously. She saw people sleeping soundly in this foggy carriage, and no one noticed what they had just done, so she breathed a sigh of relief and put the little mirror back in her bag.
She is a little tired, but she still can't sleep. She squatted on the tea table by the window for less than three minutes, and then looked up again.
Opposite her, there are a pair of unmarried young men and women who go back to Shanghai to visit their relatives. Along the way, they talked excitedly about their study and work and the situation of governing the country for one year, but now they are tired of sleeping on each other. On the other side of the carriage, a city woman in her thirties was dozing off, and a little girl of four or five years old was lying next to her. Suddenly, the little girl kicked a few legs and shouted in her dream, "Mom!" " Her mother suddenly woke up, bowed her head and kissed the little girl's face and asked, "What's the matter, little darling?" The little girl didn't answer, danced, turned over and fell asleep again.
Everything is calm again. Only the train is still ringing and shaking rhythmically. The noise seems to be a lullaby humming from mother's mouth, and the train is the cradle of her hands, in which all the passengers wander safely and comfortably into a trance-like dreamland.
She is still awake. Looking at the young people around me, looking at the little girl and her mother, a feeling of loneliness and desolation oppressed her again, especially the cry of "mom" in the little girl's dream, which was like a sharp knife, and stung her heart. How strange the word "mother" is to her; And the word "mother" has aroused her ardent expectations for life! She imagined her mother's gray hair and wrinkled face, and wanted to jump into her arms at once and ask her forgiveness. However, ... she shook her head in pain, and crystal tears swirled in her concave eyes. However, she finally didn't let it flow out, just took a deep breath, propped her elbows on the coffee table, lifted her cheeks with her hands, lifted her chin slightly protruding forward, and looked out of the window again.