Chapter Five: Shimen Village

Early the next morning, Zhang Mingyang reluctantly opened his eyes under his grandmother’s urging.

Lying in bed, Zhang Yangming glanced at the clock: 06:15. He simply couldn’t fathom why people had to wake up so early, why there needed to be a sense of time.

“Mingyang, hurry up.”

Grandmother’s voice called again.

“I know, Grandma.”

Zhang Mingyang struggled out from under the covers, donned thick winter clothes, washed up briefly, grabbed his suitcase from the cabinet, stuffed in a few clothes at random, and left the bedroom.

In the living room, his grandfather and grandmother were already up, dressed and ready, waiting for Zhang Yangming.

“Let’s go!”

As they stepped outside, Zhang Mingyang had to carry two suitcases down the stairs, for the elevator in their building was broken.

Outside the residential complex, sweating profusely, he pulled out his phone and called for a taxi to the nearest subway station.

Inside the station, Zhang Mingyang swiftly bought his ticket using facial recognition and went straight to the automated security check—ticketing and inspection all in one, boarding the subway quickly.

His generation enjoyed the dividends of the information industry; transportation, food, healthcare—everything had become convenient and efficient. Even the subway now stretched directly into rural areas.

Jiyang City was more than fifty kilometers from his hometown, Shimen Village, but thanks to the fourth-generation high-speed subway, it took only five minutes to get there.

“Dear passengers, we have arrived at Shimen Village Station. Those who need to get off…”

“Mingyang, we’ve arrived!” Grandmother woke the drowsy Zhang Mingyang beside her.

“You rascal, always wanting to sleep as soon as you get on the train—just like your father!”

Groggy, Zhang Mingyang rose from his seat, hefted his two suitcases, and stepped off the subway.

As he exited, a wave of earthy, rural air washed over him, immediately clearing the sleepiness from his mind.

He gazed at the distant mountains and snowy scenery, drawing a deep breath.

“Ah!”

Indeed, the air in the countryside was so much better than in the city. Cities grew ever taller, with larger buildings and ever-improving quality of life, but always seemed to lack the healthy air one needed to truly live.

“Let’s go!”

Grandmother led the way, and the three of them walked along an asphalt road winding through the village.

Looking at the tall trees and clear streams on either side, Grandmother sighed, “The rural environment has really improved these past few years. I remember when I was young, this road was just dirt, and there weren’t many trees on the hills. How many years has it been? It’s changed so much!”

“It’s all thanks to good government policies,” Grandfather suddenly remarked. “If it weren’t for decades of reforestation, we’d still be living on barren rocky hills.”

Zhang Mingyang nodded at his grandfather—no wonder he watched the news every day; he seemed to know everything!

After less than ten minutes walk, the three turned a corner and saw a stone gate made entirely of rock.

“Grandma, we’re here! Shimen Village!”

Grandmother gazed at the stone gate, over ten meters tall, and sighed, “Finally home!”

Shimen Village was a century-old settlement in Jiyang City, established 650 years ago and named for the natural stone cave at its entrance. A small river bisected the village, with bridges built where villagers crossed, and houses lining both banks.

Passing through the stone gate, standing beneath the cave, Zhang Mingyang looked at the nearby flowing river and recalled his childhood.

Every summer, villagers would gather beneath the stone cave to escape the heat. When the wind blew, it was wonderfully refreshing!

Crossing the first bridge at the village entrance, Zhang Mingyang surveyed the whole village. The scenes of bustling labor and young children at play from his childhood were long gone. The original 450 households had dwindled to fewer than 40.

Urbanization had driven the young from the village to settle elsewhere, leaving only the elderly to guard the ancestral homes.

“Grandma, the village feels so deserted!”

Grandmother’s voice was tinged with sadness. “All you young folk have gone to the cities, of course it’s lonely. When the remaining elders are gone, the village will be abandoned.”

Zhang Mingyang mused, “Living in the city does improve the quality of life, but without the memories and joys of the past, can they truly be happy?”

“The rapid pace of urbanization is due to population aging!” Grandfather interjected. “You young people these days don’t marry, don’t have children. With so few births, everyone thinks about moving to the cities for better retirement.”

“I remember the national population was 1.3 billion thirty years ago. Now? It’s dropped to nearly one billion. You all complain about how expensive housing is—what, rural homes aren’t good enough? Why insist on the city? I just don’t get you!”

Zhang Mingyang replied with a smile, “Grandpa, it’s not that rural houses aren’t good, but there’s no money to be made in the countryside, and no good education. That’s why they don’t want to come back.”

“No good education?” Grandfather grew angry. “How does the countryside not have good education, not have ways to earn money? Honestly, young people today aim high, are lazy, and see only what’s above them.”

“Look at people of our generation. When the country was poor and bare, most of those building the nation were rural folks. Without our spirit of struggle, could the country be what it is today?...”

“That’s enough, will you ever stop?” Grandmother interrupted, “Mingyang, don’t listen to your grandfather. He’s just stubborn. You do your best!”

“Mhm, mhm!”

As they spoke, the three reached the southernmost part of the village. Grandmother led them down a small alley and up a sloping path.

Zhang Mingyang, lugging two suitcases, climbed with difficulty.

“At last, we’re here!”

He looked at the old wooden door, weathered by years. Grandmother pulled out an ‘ancient’ key and unlocked the ‘ancient iron lock’.

Stepping into the courtyard, memories flooded Zhang Mingyang’s mind: three tiled rooms, a small yard, home to his five closest relatives.

He had left here for more than a decade, yet the memories remained vivid. He set down his suitcase and ran to his own room.

Pushing open the door, familiar sights greeted him—concrete floor, solid wood bed, and even the toys from his childhood, all still there! Apart from a little dust from time, nothing had changed.

“Mingyang? Hurry and tidy your room. Your eldest and youngest aunt will be coming tonight.”

Grandmother called from the courtyard.

“Got it, Grandma!”

His aunts were coming?

Zhang Mingyang still remembered how kind his two aunts had been to him as a child.

In a family of teachers, Grandmother taught secondary school literature, Aunt Zhang Boya taught high school mathematics, and Aunt Zhang Boshan taught high school physics.

With that, you could already imagine: every evening more than a decade ago, these three women gathered at Zhang Mingyang’s desk, working together for his future…

Ah, best not to dwell on it.

Zhang Mingyang quietly wiped away his tears.