The False Heiress In The 1980s

3. Journey to the Countryside

Lin Yuqi woke before dawn, her body stiff and her mind unsettled. The events of the past day still weighed heavily on her, but there was no time to dwell on them.

Today, she would leave everything she had ever known behind and head to the countryside, a place that felt as foreign to her as the era she now found herself in.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her suitcase packed and ready. Inside were the few clothes she owned, as well as her novels and textbooks—the most valuable things she had left.

Her future was uncertain, but she wasn't ready to give up on her education. Somehow, she would find a way to continue her college studies.

On the small table in front of her were the only parting gifts from Father and Mother Lin: 100 yuan, a hard seat ticket for the train, and a scrap of paper with Father and Mother Xia's address scrawled on it.

They hadn't even bothered to come out of their room to see her off. They were done with her.

She sighed, pocketing the money and the address. Then, with a quiet determination, she boiled three eggs in the tiny kitchen—one for breakfast and two for the long journey ahead.

With her suitcase in one hand and the eggs carefully wrapped in a cloth, Lin Yuqi stepped out of the apartment for the last time.

Outside, the world was just waking up. The compound was still and quiet, the air fresh and crisp. 1980s China was so different from the world Lin Yuqi had known.

The air, though chilly, was fresher than anything she'd breathed in modern times, free of the smog and pollution that had plagued the cities of her era.

Cars were still a luxury for most, and as she walked toward the bus stop, she noticed that bicycles outnumbered the few cars on the streets. The lack of traffic gave the city a slower, more peaceful rhythm, a sharp contrast to the chaotic rush she was used to.

The streets were beginning to come to life with vendors setting up their carts. Some sold simple snacks—steamed buns, youtiao (fried dough sticks), and freshly made soy milk. Others offered vegetables, neatly stacked in wooden crates, or small household goods.

The vendors called out to passersby, hoping to make their first sale of the day. The smells of fried food and steamed buns drifted through the air, reminding Lin Yuqi of her old life where convenience stores and cafes dominated the streets.

After a short walk, she reached the bus stop, where a few early risers waited. The bus arrived soon, its doors creaking open with a low hiss.

Lin Yuqi stepped inside, found an empty seat by the window, and settled in for the ride to the train station.

As the bus rumbled down the road, she watched the scenery change. The low buildings of the military compound gave way to wider streets lined with simple concrete apartment blocks.

Everything seemed more spaced out, less crowded than modern cities, but there was a certain charm to it. The world outside the window was quieter, more relaxed, as bicycles weaved through the streets and pedestrians went about their morning routines.

The bus came to a stop near Tianjin's train station, and Lin Yuqi stepped off, clutching her suitcase as she made her way toward the entrance.

The station was a bustling hive of activity, with crowds of people milling about, most carrying large bags, sacks of grain, or even crates of livestock. She saw chickens squawking inside cages and a few goats tied up near a corner, awaiting their journey to the countryside.

The station felt rough around the edges, with weathered concrete walls and benches, but it was alive with the energy of people on the move.

She made her way to the platform where her train was waiting—a diesel train, its exterior streaked with grime from years of use. The air around it smelled faintly of oil and smoke, and the low rumble of the engine vibrated beneath her feet as she approached.

Lin Yuqi climbed aboard, glancing around at the crowded interior. The seats were simple wooden benches, most of them already occupied by a mix of passengers—farmers, workers, and families, many of whom looked worn and tired from years of hard labor.

As she made her way down the narrow aisle, she passed people bundled up in thick, worn coats, some with small children huddled close beside them.

A few travelers had brought livestock on board, their chickens clucking nervously in woven baskets.

The scent of earthy clothing and faint whiffs of sweat filled the air. It wasn't unpleasant, just different—another reminder that she was no longer in the world she knew.

Lin Yuqi finally found her seat, a hard wooden bench near the back of the carriage. She sighed, placing her suitcase on the floor beside her, and settled in, her back stiff against the unforgiving seat.

She glanced around at her fellow passengers, trying to take in the reality of her situation. Most were like her—quiet, lost in their own thoughts, or too tired to care about much of anything.

But as the train began to rumble forward, a voice caught her attention.

"Excuse me, young miss," an old woman stood beside her, her back hunched under the weight of a large bundle she was carrying. Her face was lined with age, and her hands trembled slightly as she clutched her belongings. "Would you mind if I sit down?"

Lin Yuqi looked up at the woman, then at her own seat. Without a second thought, she stood and smiled. "Please, take my seat."

The woman's eyes widened in surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, thank you!" she said, lowering herself carefully onto the bench with a sigh of relief.

Lin Yuqi stood in the narrow aisle, gripping the railing as the train chugged forward, heading toward the countryside of Baoding.

Her legs ached from standing, but she didn't mind. The old woman had thanked her with such genuine warmth that it had softened the bitterness she carried inside.

As the train carried her farther away from Tianjin and deeper into the unknown, Lin Yuqi gazed out of the window. The distant mountains came into view, shrouded in mist, and the villages dotting the landscape became smaller and more sparse.

She didn't know what awaited her in Baoding, but for now, she had made her first choice. She had given up her seat, and it felt like a small step forward.