Mu Shuoqian exhaled a ring of smoke: "It took us a month to finally reach Detroit. Some people on the boat fell ill and died, their bodies were thrown into the sea. Many couldn't endure the torment and jumped in themselves. During that month, every two days, they would take me to a cabin. Their pleasure was to see when this kid that seemingly couldn't cry would finally break down in tears. I was curious too, wondering if I would ever cry, but in the end, I didn't cry. I only retched continuously."
Gu Qili listened to his recount, covering her mouth with one hand, turning her face away.
The winter in Detroit was truly cold, she kept shivering despite wearing a cotton-padded jacket, and people passing by cast curious glances at their oriental faces.
