Everyone begins to settle down. Some still walk up and down the aisles but only to get hot water for their instant cup noodles or to go to the toilet. Somewhere in the carriage, a radio blares out what sounds like Chinese opera. Cards flash out and the gambling begins.
The teenager buys a newspaper from the trolley lady and lays them page by page on the floor. The teenager beckons to his two other cousins and him to join him on the floor. They huddle close together for warmth against the blasts of freezing wind when the train enters a tunnel.
The musky smell of sweat so characteristic of Chinese nationals is no longer noticeable. They laugh together at the people who try to cross over them. And when the wind gets unbearably cold, the teenager asks his parents for a blanket which he spreads out over everyone.
He's impressed at the unity of Chinese nationals. People make space for other people to sit on the floor, share newspapers and blankets as well as morally support each other. Maybe there is some hope after all.
The carriage attendant finds out he can speak Cantonese and strikes up a lively conversation. He finds this strange because the attendant answers a question from a Chinese national with a curt - bordering on harsh - answer in Mandarin. Maybe it's the language. Or maybe it's just the way of dealing with Chinese nationals.
When he tries to sleep, he can feel the eyes of the attendant watching protectively over him. The attendant's cautioned him a couple of times now on how unsafe it is in China. Instinctively, he covers his watch with his hand.
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