Northern Myanmar, Northern Myanmar (short article)

1. Entering Northern Myanmar, Every Step is Alarming

I originally wanted to write a novel about Northern Myanmar, but I almost became a character in my own story. During my two trips to Northern Myanmar, I was only there to gather material, but I ended up in dangerous situations. Here, phone scams, fugitives, firearms, casinos, and addicts are everywhere, making reality stranger than fiction.

I had planned to stay in Northern Myanmar for seven days, observing life in a village near a scamming hub, but shortly after entering the country, I was taken into the notorious scamming hub by so-called "compatriots." It's easy to get in, hard to get out.

In the hub, the rules are extremely cruel. Those caught are beaten daily, some are locked in iron cages, others have their legs broken. Thinking of running? If you run, you'll just be caught and face even harsher punishment. I thought such experiences would make for a bestselling book, but only after truly living through them did I realize that this wasn't about writing a novel, but risking my life.

Fortunately, due to the negligence of a guard, I managed to escape and stumbled into a village called Xiaoqili — a hiding place for the "waste people" who escaped from the scamming hub.

2. Xiaoqili Village: A Refuge for Fugitives

The village is full of people who have escaped from the hub. They trust no one, care about no one, and are only concerned with money, drugs, and survival. There is no laughter, no hope in the village, not even the dogs bark, as if they are numb to everything around them.

In the village, I met Heiya — the only woman in the village who speaks Chinese. She is different from the others; she is calm, ruthless, and sees through everything. She told me that the village is under the control of a warlord's son, and people from the hub dare not enter casually, but to truly survive, one must learn to adapt to the rules here.

Every day, I would climb the mountains with a Black Star pistol I found in the village, carving out my own escape route. Only with a gun in hand did I feel a semblance of safety.

3. Heiya's Story: From a Sold Bride to a Behind-the-Scenes Operator

Heiya is not a local; her story is more complicated than I imagined. She was poor from a young age, deceived by a "volunteer teacher" from the city and sold off. Initially, she spent several years in a village in Myanmar as a child bride, and later, unable to bear children, she was sold again.

After escaping, she fell into prostitution and was eventually taken in by Brother Bai — the biggest bride trafficking boss in Northern Myanmar, becoming his "floor manager." She was responsible for managing the girls who were kidnapped, teaching them how to please buyers and "act like a good daughter-in-law."

She told me that in Northern Myanmar, girls are seen as commodities from a young age, sold as soon as they are born, married off if they can bring in money, or sent to work if they can't. But even though she is used to seeing this, she cannot hide her inner anger: "My father may be poor, but he would never sell his daughter."

4. Brother Bai: From Bride Trafficking to the Dark World of Scamming

In Northern Myanmar, Brother Bai's name is known to all. He initially specialized in selling brides, but later switched to scamming, expanding his operations tenfold. Heiya was once under his command, and now, she too is surviving by using these rules.

In Brother Bai's hub, thousands of people engage in scamming daily. The place operates under a strict "slavery system," no longer paying wages but directly controlling personal freedom. Want to run from the hub? Impossible! All exits are sealed with barbed wire, and armed patrols are always ready, with severe consequences for those who disobey orders.

Heiya told me that in earlier years, the scamming hub at least had some "rules," and employees could earn wages. But now, everything has changed, with free-market scamming ultimately unable to compete with slave-labor scamming.

5. Returning to Northern Myanmar, Reality is Crueler Than Fiction

Years later, I returned to Northern Myanmar and found that everything had changed. The old man who once gave me directions — a guard for the warlord's son — was rumored to have been killed in an operation against the hub's boss, but he also disappeared without a trace.

And Brother Bai's business has grown even larger, with even the villagers starting to rely on the scamming industry for survival. Previously, villagers would sell brides to make money, but now they directly recruit people into the scamming hub, where "working 12 hours is considered light, 18 hours is normal."

The hub even started promoting "corporate culture," with morning meetings, physical drills, singing, and swearing loyalty, much like military training. Hearing this news, I was stunned, yet it seemed only natural.

At the convenience store, I bought a pack of cigarettes, and as I turned around, I noticed someone watching me. The old lady selling cigarettes quietly warned me, "That's Brother Bai's man, always watching to see if anyone escapes." I immediately understood that I could no longer stay here.

6. The End: Leaving Northern Myanmar, Stories That Can't Be Taken Away

I boarded the bus back to my country, looking back at the scamming hub. The barbed wire surrounded it like a prison, surveillance cameras constantly rotating, as if searching for the next batch of escapees.

Brother Bai will continue his scamming empire, but what about Heiya? Is she still alive, has she also become part of this scam? I dare not think, nor do I want to.

Sitting in the airport, watching the flight information on the screen, I silently asked myself: If I had dared to stand up and save Heiya back then, would things have been different?

But the answer, no one knows.