After what felt like ages, our boat finally reached Ningxia. My sister, Lei Wen, and I were just two children among hundreds searching for safety, hope, or a sliver of familiarity. But here we were, far from home, lost in a sea of strangers—no family, no parents, no ties left to ground us. What could I, a mere child myself, really do?

Before I could sort out these thoughts, Lei Wen was already tugging at my sleeve.

"Sister, when will we see Mom?"

"Mom…?"

"Don’t you remember? She promised she’d meet us in Ningxia. She never breaks a promise."

Children truly are like blank pages, untouched by doubt or sorrow, clinging to hope no matter the circumstances. Despite everything, Lei Wen’s innocent eyes still held a glimmer of belief, as if she could see a miracle that would bring Mother back to us. I knew the truth, but what else could I do? There’s always light at the end, even of the darkest tunnel—no matter how small or fleeting. That promise was Lei Wen’s light, a tiny spark that gave her the strength to carry on. So, for her sake, I let myself believe in it too.

"Alright. We’ll search for Mom. But first, we need food. We gotta eat to live, right?"

Her eyes sparkled with joy, "Yes! After we eat, we’ll find Mom for sure!"

She beamed, and I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of happiness too. However improbable it seemed, we clung to that hope. Even if it was a lie, even if it was empty, we had a reason to keep moving forward—right?

…

By noon, we’d left the docks and entered the heart of Ningxia’s bustling city.

"Sis! Look!"

Lei Wen tugged me toward a food stall, her eyes glued to a rotisserie chicken turning over a spit.

"I want that one!" she announced, practically drooling.

The vendor gave me a sympathetic smile. "Fresh chicken! Fresh chicken today! Why don’t you buy a piece for her? Looks like she’s already halfway through eating it with her eyes."

I forced a polite smile and shook my head, pulling her gently away. "Thank you, but we’ve already eaten. Her eyes are just bigger than her stomach, that’s all."

As I dragged her along, Lei Wen protested, wailing loud enough to draw stares from every passerby.

"Sis, I’m hungry! Let go!"

“Just keep moving, okay?”

"No! You said you’d feed me!"

Finding a quiet alley nearby, I led her in to avoid the attention of curious onlookers.

"Alright, scream all you want here. No one can hear you."

"You promised me food, and now you’re breaking your promise! Mom would be upset, you know."

"Really? And what about you? You also promised Dad you’d listen to me, but I don’t see you doing that now."

She pouted, crossing her arms with a defiant glare, her silence a clear declaration of war. I sighed and tried to soften, reaching over to pat her head.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Come on, Lei Wen. Right now, we don’t have money for chicken. But tell you what, stay here, and I’ll find some work. Once I earn a bit, you can eat anything you want."

"Fine!"

"Good. Just sit here and don’t wander off, okay?"

“Okay!”

I went from shop to shop nearby, pleading with store owners with every bit of charm I could muster. But the responses were all the same.

"Sorry, we don’t take kids."

I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t let me work. Sure, I was nine, but I was a farmer’s daughter—surely I was capable! Some told me they didn’t want trouble from the authorities for violating “child labor laws.” But I figured the police were good people, and I was doing nothing wrong, so who would they arrest? That was how I reasoned at the time, in my naive way.

Wandering further, I tried every store I could find, looping back and practically begging. Each time, the answer was the same: "You’re too young," and "We will violate the laws if we take you in."

With the sky turning orange and my stomach growling, I walked without aim, staring up at the sunset. In my hunger-dazed state, the setting sun looked like a golden egg yolk, ripe for the taking. I imagined myself biting into it, only for hunger to pull me back down to earth. Suddenly, I remembered something important.

“Lei Wen! Oh no, I left her alone!”

I hurried back toward the alley but slowed midway.

"Wait, I still don’t have anything to feed her."

I didn’t want to return empty-handed, but I had no choice. I needed to check on her at least. Just as I turned to go back, the scent of fresh bread caught my attention. Following my nose, I found myself outside a bakery, and a thought struck me:

"Asking for work is impossible, then, what if I ask for food instead?"

I scolded myself for not trying sooner. My parents had taught me never to beg, but at that moment, survival overruled pride.

Putting on my best pitiful expression, I got down on my knees and crawled toward the baker.

“Please, sir,” I coughed pathetically, “I haven’t eaten in a week, I can’t even walk straight anymore… Could you spare me just one loaf? Just one...”

The baker snorted, not buying it for a second. “A week, huh? You look healthy enough to work in a tavern, so why beg? Get lost.”

“Please, I’m really starving…”

“Aww, poor thing, starving, are you? Here, take a loaf then.”

The baker pulled out the biggest loaf I’d ever seen, fresh and hot, filling the air with the most heavenly smell. My hands stretched out instinctively, reaching for it. But the moment I touched it, he slammed a rolling pin down on my fingers, making me jump back in pain.

“Ow! That hurt!”

He laughed, smug and satisfied. “Thought so. A faker, eh? I knew you were just pretending to be all sad and desperate. Now scram, or I’ll make sure you wish you did.”

Fueled by desperation, I grabbed the loaf and bolted, running with all my might. I knew stealing was wrong, but in that moment, survival was the only justice that I knew.

“Hey! You little thief!”

I heard him yell, but I didn’t dare look back. I just ran, darting through the streets and alleys until I was certain he’d lost me.

…

"Lei Wen! I’m back."

“...Sister?”

She was curled up on the ground, surrounded by piles of trash in the dim alley. I scooped her up, tearing off a chunk of bread and feeding it to her as she stared up at me with bleary eyes.

“Come on, Lei Wen, don’t give up. We still have to find Mom.”

She took a bite, chewing slowly as if remembering her promise to Mother.

"For… Mom…”

Gradually, life returned to her eyes, and she gobbled the bread down, swallowing every dry, crusty mouthful with resolve.

“Finish it all, okay? I went through a lot to get that for you.”

When she’d eaten her fill, Lei Wen curled up on the ground and fell asleep almost immediately. I still felt the pangs of hunger, but it didn’t matter. I would find a way to get more food.

As the city quieted and darkness descended, the alley grew silent, save for the chirping of insects and the occasional breeze. I walked to the alley’s edge and looked up. The sky in Ningxia was less starry than back in Mongolia, but I still hoped, somehow, that Mom was out there, shining down on us like the brightest star of all. For now, she was our only reason to survive. If we could find her, our family could be whole again, and maybe—just maybe—we wouldn’t just survive anymore; we could finally live.