She murmured , “ It is not us they see , but rather ominous tidings dressed in the colors of invasion .” “ The sun may continue to shine , but winter marches ever closer .”
They left the city not long after , choosing to flee through the passage of Shekou . The city gradually faded out of sight , as though it had been naught but a mirage shimmering in the far distance , a fleeting image of an oasis in the barren desert . Some days , it squirmed like a ravenous tapeworm at the back of Zilan ’ s mind , that perhaps , just perhaps , it would be the same no matter where they went . There would be no escape from the invaders , and their last beacon of hope would eventually crumble , and fall from that great height into murky , hopeless waters , its shining beam of light extinguished with a final resounding hiss . At least their luck hadn ’ t failed them . So far , they had yet to encounter any passing soldiers , but they had heard stories from the occasional deserter that the army was hot on their tails--dozens had been hunted down and captured or shot on the spot . Falter in our step , and they will be upon us .
The mangroves welcomed them with open arms , folding out the sunlight with their flat and dark leaves as they tread deeper into the undergrowth , until the only light remaining were the few iridescent spots drizzled across the ashen bark . “ Mommy ,” Ting said . She pointed to moving silhouettes in front of them . In the dim light , Zilan had to squint for the shadows to finally take the form of people . Deserters . Tens of hundreds of desperate souls were making their way through the forest like a flock of startled geese that had taken flight at the sound of a gunshot . As Ting watched in amazement , they moved through the obscure path as water trickles into streams , congregating without agreement in advance . All were on the same wavelength , driven by the same manic depression , the urgent need to get out of here . With a start , Ting realised that they probably looked like them--exhausted , weary and in dire need of food and rest . How long had it been since she had last bathed ? Hunger pangs roiled in her stomach with every step she took , and her hair hung in limp strands around her shoulders . Perhaps if she nibbled the dirt crusted around her fingernails … “ Ow !” A stabbing pain shot up her toe , and Ting wriggled it in response , too drained to lift her foot . “ Ting ?” ZIlan asked . Turning around to look at Ting , she winced at the state of her daughter ’ s shoes . The satin footwear had all but frayed to less than a soiled rag , and Ting ’ s pale toes were poking through its remains , scratched and bleeding from the unrelenting trek . Even if her shoes had not broken , she was simply too young to make the hike . Would it have been better , Zilan wondered , to have left her at the doorstep of some wealthy family instead ? Ting ’ s voice cut through her trance . “ I can still walk ,” she promised . Zilan looked at her for a moment . “ You can ?” she asked . “ Yes .” “ Alright .” Zilan took off her shoes . “ Wear this .” She dropped them in front of Ting ’ s feet . While Ting dutifully slipped them on , Zilan pushed her feet into Ting ’ s shoes . It was slightly cramped , but they would have to make do . “ Let ’ s go .” Zilan held out her hand , and Ting grasped it quickly . Further in , queer objects started to appear on both sides of the roads . First it was a book , then a hat , then a basket of flowers upturned on one side , cream-colored daisies spilling out on the other side , its petals scattered around the flowers and turning brown . Along the path , the dross grew in size , number and whimsy . Broken down carts appeared , one wheel sagging uselessly into the mud . Discarded pennies and copper coins winked at passersby while freed chickens ran around their legs in a feathery , clucking frenzy . Mules snickered and chewed at cud next to the broken shards of smashed wine bottles . China plates and cups , placed neatly on a rock as though its owner had been reluctant to part with his treasure . Gold chopsticks and wooden wardrobes and headrests and rotting fruits , it seemed to Zilan that the mountains of trash would come crashing down at any second , forever burying them in the wasteland of shattered dreams . She rifled through the clothing for shoes . Nothing . Once , they passed by two inconspicuous bundles nestled among the roots of a great oak . It wasn ’ t until the bundles opened their mouths and wailed that Ting realised they were a pair of twins , no older than five months . Their mother was nowhere in sight . Ting shuddered and squeezed Zilan ’ s hand tightly . “ Mommy- ” BANG . The sound ripped through the air like lightning . A single spiral of smoke rose languorously into the air , accompanied by a jumbled mixture of agonized screams behind them . Zilan ’ s throat dried . “ Run !” she said hoarsely , tugging Ting along . More gunshots rang in the air and more shrieks erupted . Zilan scooped Ting up and started sprinting , shoving aside other panicked deserters . Run , her brain told her . Explosions