Declaring War for Love (Part 1)
- Albert Wang
- Oct 27, 2024
- 15 min read
Updated: 4 days ago
June 6th, 2024:

I first met Xiao Mei at a park. It’s a beautiful meadow. A huge patch of lively green in the heart of Guangming District, with gray stones scattered across here and there, spanning forever and ever under the azure sky, rich with life without end, without a single spot where green is absent. Opposite this meadow is the gate of the Regina Miracle factory. Huge, black iron gates dotted with brown rust. Xiao Mei stood on the edge of the park, a vibrant silhouette against the verdant grass. She had a long ponytail, a lovely round face, big bright eyes, and a sweet smile – full of life and energy like she’s in her 20’s. She had a force of nature in her own right. I approached her, introduced myself, and invited her to a conversation. “Sure.” With a nod and a word she gave the most certain, most confident acceptance. It surprised me, after being rejected time and again. “I’m full of surprises,” she said.
Xiao Mei was born in 1984. A generation older than I estimated. She was a daughter of the Yangchun mountains, her roots entwined with the earth her family had tilled for generations. Her family were authentically locals: living in their village, surrounded by mountains, farming on land cleared from forests, generations after generation. Land was scarce in mountainous regions, so “wherever the streams flow to, we carved our farmlands from.” But with a growing population on scarce land, village life is harsh. The land’s scarcity was a constant specter. Barely can Yangchun families support themselves with agriculture, and members of those that cannot are pushed to venture out of the mountains in search of economic opportunities. “They all call these opportunities ‘economic,’ but for us, they are opportunities for survival.” After China’s economic liberalization, many flocked to Guangzhou and Shenzhen for work.
Xiao Mei’s family was one of them. She was the fourth of five siblings. Her eldest brother started a repair shop in a nearby town, the second eldest found a job as construction worker in Guangzhou, her older sister became a garment worker in Shenzhen, her younger sister died. “Disease and poor nutrition, they said it was those two together. Our village had no clinic, and the nearest is miles away in the town. It took us half a day to get there, carrying her. We had no cars, and cars were of no use because there weren’t flat roads in the mountains.”
Xiao Mei’s siblings “either left for life in another world or for life outside of the mountains.” They scattered like seeds, floating in different waves along the sprawling landscapes of China’s growing cities, leaving her and her parents stuck in their small village with their few acres of farmland and, later, Xiao Mei’s first two nephews. Xiao Mei’s eldest brothers established their families in crowded towns and cities, but lacked the time and money to raise their children under the same roof. So they sent their children back to their hometown, under the care of the children’s grandparents. Their children joined the 69 million “left-behind children” in China documented by “UNICEF Annual Report 2017” – children who live and grow up in their parents’ hometowns but not with their parents present, because their parents have migrated to cities for economic opportunities. “They have parents. But they have no parents who care for them or who stay with them. My brothers return to our hometown during New Year break every year, but to their children, they are more like visitors. The children are orphans with parents.”
Xiao Mei became the only one, out of her parents’ five children, who stayed in her hometown. “I was obedient, sensible, always helping at home. I was the role model for girls in my village.” Her parents hoped she would stay with them. But Xiao Mei did not obey. “I wanted to work my own job and earn my own wage in the big cities like my sister. I wanted to control my own life.” At the age of 16, defying her parents’ opposition, she left for Shenzhen to join her sister in the migrant workforce. “I knew I was going to a city called Shenzhen, where my sister was. I hope it’ll be a place where I can lead my own life.”

Xiao Mei’s sister jumped from factories to factories in the cities of Dongguan and Shenzhen, often switching jobs for as little as a 200 yuan (~28 USD) boost in monthly wage. “She was like a grasshopper, and any little increase in wages is her prey.” Xiao Mei was also a grasshopper, leaping around, chasing the elusive promise of a higher pay. She started at a garment factory in Matian district, trimming threads on finished pieces of clothing, working from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. everyday, earning 1 yuan (~0.14 USD) per piece of finished work. She was inexperienced, often finishing only 30 pieces a day. Mistakes also cost, as the employer charged a high price for each mistake found. A thread untrimmed meant a fine of 2 yuan. Three threads untrimmed on a single item cost 10. “I found myself sometimes in debt, unable to pay my employer the penalty. I worked 12 hours a day – 11 excluding lunch and dinner – and somehow I owed my employer money.”
Paying the employer’s fines was expensive, but connections with fellow workers were wealth. Xiao Mei became close to colleagues who migrated from the Yangchun area. With their help, she quickly got the hang of her job. Three months into this new urban life, she was already earning 1,500 yuan (~214 USD) per month. Working 11 hours a day, her hands were blistered, but she made thrilled hearts out of burning pain: “1500 yuan, this equaled one fourth of my parents’ yearly income. I mailed 1,000 yuan to my parents, spent 300 on gifts for my sister, and kept 200 for myself. That was the year 2000, a very special year for me.” It’s the start of a new millennium. The beginning of Xiao Mei’s new life.
In the vibrant chaos of the 2000s, Xiao Mei learned sewing and cutting, becoming more skilled and higher waged. “I went from a young Grasshopper to a Jedi.” She got a life outside of work, hanging out with colleagues, eating at street stalls and chatting on new social media platforms. “That was back in the 2000s, when QQ [Chinese social media platform] was popular. Those who had phones and PCs downloaded QQ there, those who did not, like us, went to cybercafe at night just to chat on QQ. You made friends with strangers, and that wasn’t strange at all. You talked to all sorts of people.” All sorts of people – including Xiao Mei’s love.
It was her 20th birthday. Xiao Mei left work early with friends, and they celebrated her birthday at KFC. “KFC is more common today in China. But back then, we took it as a sign of affluence. Being able to afford KFC meant being able to afford the Western way of life. That was the most luxurious birthday we could imagine.” After this exotic meal, they went to a cybercafe upstairs. Xiao Mei logged onto her QQ account, and found a new subscriber named “Li Bai.” Li Bai worked at a hardware factory in Shenzhen. He was also from the Yangchun area, from a notoriously poor place named Shiwang. The two chatted nonstop for the next six months, and by the end of those six sweet, special months, Xiao Mei realized that she was in love with Li. “He was kind-hearted and sincere, gentle, always caring for me and my needs. It’s hard to say what’s so special about him. But he was special to me, and I decided back then that I’ll marry no one but him.”
“I’ll marry no one but him.” The next time Xiao Mei said these words, she said them to her parents. It was Chinese New Year, and Xiao Mei returned to her hometown during the two weeks of New Year break. Her parents opposed the marriage. “They told me that they allowed me to migrate to Shenzhen and seek a job, hoping that I’d have a better life. They told me there’s no chance they’ll agree to my marriage. No chance that they’ll allow me to marry into the remote, inaccessible, mountainous hometown of Li Bai. I questioned them: ‘aren’t we living in the mountains ourselves? If I were born in a poor village surrounded by the mountains and you treat me as a decent human being, why can’t you do the same for Li?’ But before I could finish, my father picked up a wooden broom in a corner of the room and started hitting me with it. I was pretty sure that he was merely threatening the use of force, but the pain on my back, at one point, told me that maybe it’s beyond a threat. At some point, my father got so mad that he used force on his daughter.”
As she tried to escape the broom, her father declared sternly: “Tomorrow, we’ll meet the matchmaker. The Cheng’s in town proposed a marriage twice, and Aunt Wang from the village nearby came with a proposal too.” Xiao Mei ran into her room, locked the door, and went on a hunger strike. Her parents conceded, though only partially. They postponed matchmaking but forbade any contact between Xiao Mei and Li Bai. “They wanted to break us apart. I spent six happy months chatting with Li Bai on QQ. And then I went home and was told I can’t chat with him anymore. It was the worst New Year I’ve ever had.” Shortly after New Year’s eve, she packed her luggage and returned to the factory. Her parents tried to stop her from going back to Shenzhen. “Me being at Shenzhen meant me staying closer to Li Bai than to my parents. And they didn’t like that. But I sneaked out of my house at midnight, walked three hours to the nearest bus station, and waited another two hours for the bus to Shenzhen. Li Bai arrived at Shenzhen on the same day – we made the deal almost three weeks in advance and he kept his promise. I told him what my father told me, and we cried in each other’s arms.”
Xiao Mei did not come to Shenzhen alone, though. She brought all her personal documents with her. Secretly, without her parents knowing. “I stole my own documents from my parents. I took hold of them and brought them to Shenzhen with me; I took hold of my marriage.” A few months after returning to Shenzhen, Xiao Mei took hold of Li Bai’s hand and of their marriage, and they brought their documents to become legally registered couples. The wedding? An informal, small banquet at Li Bai’s hometown, a whisper of dreams deferred but not forgotten. “I didn’t dare invite my parents or anyone from my hometown. It wasn’t until the next New Year, when my father brought up matchmaking again, that I told them I’m married. He fainted on the spot.”
In the two years following, Li Bai and Xiao Mei worked hard. They worked more and spent less, saving thicker and thicker bundles of money to mail to Xiao Mei’s parents in honor of the Confucian moral principle of filial piety. “First 800 yuan, later 1000, and even sometimes 1200, when demand for clothing was high.” Filial piety means loving, respecting, and being good and obedient to one’s parents; taking good care of them; supporting them financially and emotionally; giving birth to male heirs to carry on the patrilineal family lineage…so on. “If we show filial piety to my parents, maybe they will accept Li Bai.” What if they don’t? “Well…I guess we’ll have to keep trying. There’s no end to filial piety. Life goes on and it’s my life that I chose to lead.”
Li Bai bought many gifts for Xiao Mei’s parents on important festivals. But he was never allowed to enter their home whenever Xiao Mei and Li Bai paid a visit. Xiao Mei’s father refused to speak to Li. But in the third year after Xiao Mei and Li were married, Xiao Mei’s father fell seriously ill and was hospitalized. Li Bai left work for two weeks to care for him. “He took leave, and that was equivalent to taking the risk of being fired. Us factory workers don’t have a lot of breaks or holidays. The assembly lines have many moving parts – A’s products become B’s inputs, and C and D and E depend on B’s outputs as their inputs. The lines need to produce, it can’t stop, and it won’t stop for one or two people. If you take a long enough time to stay away from work, the factory owner will find a substitute and ask you to stay away from their assembly lines forever.”
Li was not fired. “But the most important thing is not about the job.” During this time, Xiao Mei’s father came to see Li Bai as sincere, kind, and attentive, gradually – though reluctantly – accepting him. Xiao Mei no longer had conflicts with her parents over this marriage or any other personal decisions. In Xiao Mei’s hometown, she and Li Bai became a “legitimate couple,” giving birth to a daughter in 2009 and a son in 2016.
Like most female workers in Shenzhen’s garment factories, Xiao Mei switched jobs many times over her 23-year career. Sometimes for higher wages, better working conditions, or simply because she was tired of the old job. Sometimes she didn’t have a choice: pregnancy, childcare, and factory closures also forced changes to her life. But she still fought for her right to choose. The fight started 23 years ago, from the moment she decided to pursue a life as a migrant worker to Shenzhen against her parents’ will and the social norms. Fighting against centuries-old traditions is no easy task, yet she spoke of her past lightly.
"Q: Regina Miracle seems to be quite a large factory. It’s also a listed company. How long have you been working here?
A: Not long. I worked here for two years before, then I left, and later came back again. That’s why you saw me here today.
Q: Why did you leave before?
A: I left for my kids. I gave birth to my son at a hospital near my hometown, and he was raised in my hometown. My kids are left-over children. But when my son was little, I needed to take care of him myself. I had to stay at Yangchun, but I couldn't get enough leave from work at Shenzhen. So I had to quit my job altogether and return to my hometown to raise him. Once he got old enough to go to kindergarten, I left them with their grandparents in Yangchun and went back to work at this factory myself.
Q: Do you have to go back to work later today?
A: Yes, I have to do overtime. We work from 8 am to 9 pm or 10 pm, and we get a lunch break and a dinner break in between. I finish my dinner usually within 10 to 15 minutes, so I get to spend the rest of the break at this park. All workers have the same schedule, the same breaks – except our day ends at different times because we all have different overtime schedule.
Q: Is the overtime schedule something you control yourself, or does the factory assign the tasks?
A: The managers assign the overtime based on how much order the factory gets; they allocate these orders across the different teams. So some people work until 9pm, others until 10pm. I usually work until 9.Q: Is the overtime pay calculated by the hours you work?A: It depends on the job type. Some get paid by time, others by piece rate. Different lines and roles.
Q: So, the longer they assign you to work, the more overtime pay you receive?
A: Yes. It's based on piece rate or hourly rate, so the more you work, the more you earn. More labor, more pay. That's why some people try to get on good terms with the supervisors to get more task assignments.
Q: Where on the production line do you work at?
A: I’m on the sewing line. Sewing is not as demanding – even people who are slow with their hands can do it. But some other positions require more skill and quick movements.
Q: Do you operate sewing machines manually or use computerized equipment?
A: We use computer-controlled machines. Well, it's actually quite simple. Once you start learning, you can get the hang of it quickly.
Q: How much can one typically earn at this factory per month?
A: It varies a lot. Some earn a few thousand yuan, some up to ten thousand. If you’re really fast-handed and get a lot of orders, you could earn over ten thousand.
Q: I noticed some workers live in factory dorms. Others rent housing outside the factory. Is that based on their position or seniority?
A: Not really, the workers are all quite similar [in that respect]. Unmarried workers usually live in the factory dorms and share the dorm room with a few colleagues. Couples and married workers, especially those with kids, generally rent housing outside since it’s more convenient. My husband and I rent a place outside.
Q: How far is that from the factory?
A: Seven kilometers. I ride an electric bike to work, and it takes my husband three minutes to walk from where we live to the factory he works in.
Q: Oh, that’s quite convenient. So not much of household expenses are on transportation?
A: Yes. We barely spend anything on transportation.
Q: Now that we’re talking about household expenses, is living in Shenzhen expensive?
A: It’s not cheap. But expensive…? Maybe not, either. Well, me and my husband’s combined incomes can definitely cover the entire family’s expenses. We just have to be cheap and budget carefully. We spend one person's income each month and save the other’s.
Q: How much can you typically save?
A: Around 5,000 yuan per month. We have to save some money every month to cover our kids’ expenses. Around 5,000 yuan per month. We have to save some money every month to cover our kids’ expenses. You know, when kids get to high school, their expenses really start piling up.
Q: 5,000 yuan a month, that amounts to 60,000 a year?
A: Yeah. But not really. Our expenses back home [Yangchun hometown] are quite high. My mother-in-law helps take care of our kids, and we send her 500 yuan a month on top of the kids’ living costs. My kids are “left-behind” children. I also have to support my own aging parents. They can’t farm in the fields to support themself anymore.
Q: Do you send the same amount [of money] to both sides of the family [i.e. your parents vs. your husband’s parents]?
A: I give more to my parents, for sure (chuckles). I mean, they raised me and now I’m here.
Q: How often do you visit your hometown?
A: It's not fixed. I don’t have a set schedule for that. My hometown is fairly close, so sometimes when I have a weekend off and really miss my kids, I’ll just go back [to Yangchun] to see them.
Q: How close is it?
A: 276 kilometers.
Q: 276 kilometers, that’s quite precise.
A: We usually drive back ourselves, so I remember the exact distance.
Q: Do you rent cars? Or do you own one?
A: Yes, we bought a used car, paid in full up front. We can’t afford paying for a new car in full, and if we deal with car finance, that’d put too much pressure on us.
Q: Right, and with two children, there are always places you need to spend money on.
A: Monthly payments from car finance, from housing finance, are heavy burdens. That’s why we built our own house on our land in the village instead of buying a home elsewhere, housing constructed by [real estate] development companies, you know.
Q: Are the children doing well in school?
A: They’re about average, not exceptionally high or low [achievers]. They get ok grades.
Q: That's still quite an accomplishment, especially considering they’re not with you here. You must be very proud of them.
A: Yes and I tell my children – my daughter, and later my son, ‘Studying is up to you, for education, they are on their own. I can’t really help you. If I can't support your studies, your education [financially], it's my problem. But if you don’t work hard, if you don’t do well, it's on you to reflect on yourself.’ That's what I tell my daughter.
Q: When your children see you and your husband’s hard work, they will be motivated to put in the effort, to work hard themselves too.
Q: Of all the garment factories you've worked at, which one did you find the best?
A: It’s called Fuhua, Fuhua was the best, the Fuhua in Xia Cun, Guangming [District], the place belongs to the Guangming district. They offered good benefits, the work conditions were nice, and also decent wages.
Q: But in the end, you’re back to Regina Miracle [factory]. Is it because the wages here are higher?
A: Haha, yes, once you have the kids, you naturally want to earn a bit more.
Q: This factory seems to have a nice environment around it, being right across from the park. Do you usually hang out here after work?
A: Yes, in the evenings there are people dancing, singing, playing sports, doing all sorts of stuff in the park square. But we’ll be moving out of here soon. Area B of this factory has already relocated, so that part of the building is cleared empty, it’s all the way over there (pointing to the other end of the street).
Q: Where’s the factory moving to? Why the move?
A: We’re moving to Zhaoqing [a smaller city ~150 miles Northwest of Shenzhen]. The factory buildings in this area [Shenzhen] are owned by the local village’s village collective. It’s not the property of the company behind this factory, Regina Miracle.
Q: I see. A lot of factories in Shenzhen are relocating to nearby cities like Huizhou and Zhaoqing to reduce costs [of renting the factory buildings].
A: Yeah it’s probably because the rents are cheaper in Zhaoqing. I also heard that the factory buildings in Zhaoqing are owned by Regina Miracle, so the company pays no rent for using them. I'm not sure of the exact reasons. They didn’t tell me.
Q: I saw a group of people entering the factory area around late afternoon, discussing something in front of the buildings.
A: They’re probably people from the village collective. Or perhaps people from companies that are considering renting this place once we’re gone. Either one of those.
Q: Are you planning to move with the factory?
A: Yes, I’ll be going along. Anyone willing to move can move with the factory, and the factory will assign the date for you to move. It’s my turn tomorrow. I’ll leave tomorrow morning.
Q: Are there people who decide not to move?
A: Yes. Almost half of the workers aren’t moving. Or one third, maybe; I’m not really sure how it’s like on other parts of the [assembly] line. Those who aren’t moving will have to find another job at another factory, I guess.
Q: Oh and that’s why you're leaving tomorrow?
A: Yes. I can't afford to lose my job. But the factory also offers to transport a lot of my things – also myself – for free. Zhaoqing isn’t that far from Shenzhen.
Q: Are you satisfied with your current life?
A: It’s pretty good.
Q: And that’s why you look so young – your positiveness must be a big part of it.
A: Haha, I’m satisfied with my life because I don’t ask for much in many aspects, and that changes my mood. I’m happy as long as my family is safe and well, that’s the most important thing and for me, that’s enough. Anyways, I need to get going [for overtime].”
And with that, Xiao Mei left, leaving many more questions still unanswered…
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