Guozi’s Story: A Foolish Child’s Coming of Age

The Story of Guozi: A Mother's Hardship and Light

Approximately 22,000 words | A realist novel told from Wang Guilan's perspective

My name is Wang Guilan. I was born in 1976 in a poor village in Zhumadian.

The year before I was born, a terrifying flood hit my hometown. It swept away houses, submerged fields, and took many lives. By the time I arrived, all our family had left was a leaky mud-brick house, a broken pot, and stomachs that were never full. My father was an honest man who knew only how to farm, a man of few words. My mother was frail and took medicine all year round. I had three younger siblings, one mouth to feed after another. We were so poor we couldn't even find a single piece of intact cloth.

I never spent a day in school in my entire life.

I couldn't read or write my name. I couldn't understand the slogans on the walls or make out the numbers on money. Even counting to ten meant using my fingers. In our poor corner of the world, girls were born to work. From childhood, we were taught to save, give way, endure, and suffer, as though we were naturally inferior and meant to sacrifice ourselves for the family. As far back as I can remember, I followed the adults to the fields, cut grass, fed pigs, did laundry, and looked after my younger siblings. I got up before dawn and didn't dare rest until dark. The calluses on my hands grew layer upon layer. In winter, they cracked and bled, the pain piercing to the bone.

When I was fifteen, someone in the village said you could earn money by going south to work in a factory. They provided food and lodging, and the pay could be as much as several dozen yuan a month. I was tempted as soon as I heard. Our family simply couldn't hold on any longer. My father was coughing so hard he could barely stand, and my younger siblings didn't even have enough to eat. If I stayed home, the whole family would starve to death. My mother secretly slipped two cornmeal