Many youngsters have spent their summer holiday watching, and sometimes helping, their parents in a factory in Fujian province. Zhang Yizhi and Xia Xiao report for Xinhua.

Summer is not usually the busiest season of the year, yet it is the most boisterous time in a clothing factory in the eastern province of Fujian, not just because of the clanking machines, but also thanks to a group of exuberant children.

Carrying a stack of lining fabric in her little hands, Wang Jingjing galloped up the stairs to the fifth floor where her parents were laboring over a pile of half-made jackets.

For the 6-year-old and her older sister Wang Lian, running errands for their parents is a privilege they have to compete for. This time, the younger sister won after a game of rock-paper-scissors.

Her 14-year-old sibling feigned a sulky expression after losing the game, but she sat down on a stool beside her mother and started to do her homework.

The sisters are part of a group called "little migratory birds" - children left behind in their rural homes who travel to cities to spend the holidays with their family.

Their parents work for Shishi Jinlilaisi Garment Co, a clothing manufacturer in the city of Shishi in Fujian, about 750 kilometers from their hometown of Jiujiang, Jiangxi province.

Every summer, tens of thousands of little migratory birds "fly" thousands of kilometers to enjoy a precious two-month family reunion at their parents' workplaces in Fujian, Guangdong and Zhejiang provinces.

Sweeten the bitterness

Li Xiaolan, the Wang sisters' mother, was eager to see her beloved daughters, so her husband drove for more than 10 hours from their hometown to bring the children to her workplace on the first day of summer vacation.

As the holiday progressed, more children arrived at the factory. But they were not there for sightseeing or to play. Most of the time, they were confined to the plain factory, which is surrounded by dozens of similar-looking buildings.

At about 8 am, employees flock to the workshop to start their working day. Later, the hungry children drag themselves out of bed and prepare for the day, walking listlessly to the workshop to join their parents, yawning and stretching the entire way.

When the lunch break begins, workers from different parts of the country stir-fry pork and vegetables on dozens of induction cooktops lined up in the canteen on the ground floor of the dormitory building, making it a grand cooking contest of various Chinese cuisines.

The parents often work late into the night, sometimes until midnight if many orders need to be completed. Often, the children sit with their parents as they work late.

Despite the long hours waiting in workshops, the children always find ways to make the time more joyous and meaningful.

While teenagers often help their parents with menial tasks, such as handing over cloth, ironing ready-made clothes and changing bobbins, preschoolers and young children run and chase each other, playing hide-and-seek in the building, including the owner's office on the second floor, seeking entertainment in the simplest way.

"Although it is not good for the company's image, I can live with it, because safety is our highest priority. It is not safe for them to roam the streets in the sweltering heat," said Wu Yushan, the factory owner.

Wu said the building has been completely rewired to prevent electric shocks, and the guard has been instructed to stop children trying to sneak out of the factory without their parents.

The plant is closed every Sunday, so most of the workers take their children to parks or malls in the city.

Wu said the children need activities that are more educational and enlightening. He suggested that the local government use schools as summer camps for the hundreds of factory children in Shishi.

Local authorities have taken measures to ensure safe family gatherings. A program that allows college students to offer children companionship and tutoring services during school breaks has been launched, and local volunteers plan to take the children on tours of museums.

A way out

This summer, 18 children are staying in Wu's factory. Eight of them are little migratory birds from remote towns, while the other 10 are "lucky dogs," who live with their migrant parents in the city.

Congcong, 4, has spent most of his life in the workshop where his parents work all day long, and in his "home", a 6-square-meter room containing a bunk bed and a small table.

When he turned 3, Congcong's parents decided to send him to a nearby kindergarten. It costs the young couple 4,500 yuan ($628) per semester, which is a sizable sum, given that the average monthly salary for workers in the factory is about 7,000 yuan.

Huang Hailong, Congcong's father, has been working in the factory since 2007. He met his wife there.

Initially, they left the boy in Huang's hometown of Suining, a city in the southwestern province of Sichuan, but later they came to realize they had issues with the parent-child relationship.

"For a while, he didn't want to speak with me, because we didn't see each other very often," Huang said. "That is why we have lived with Congcong ever since."

There are 6.97 million "left-behind" children in China - youngsters left in rural homes while their parents work far away - while more than 14 million children live with their migrant worker parents in cities in prosperous regions.

To provide better on-site child care, many young workers choose to live with their children while moving around the country.

Their children's education carries the most weight for younger parents - they expect their offspring to go to college and work in an office rather than toil in a factory.

However, the factory experience has made the children more self-reliant and capable than many of their peers.

In addition to giving their parents a hand, the older children turn the workshop into a library, reading books amid the humming sewing machines and electric fans whirring above their heads.

Ou Qiuquan, 19, the "oldest young person" in the factory, is considered a role model by the frolicking children.

Despite lengthy family discussions about his possible future in the crowded workshop, he was accepted by Fujian Medical University this summer.

He has spent almost every summer with his parents in the factory, where they have worked since it opened in 2005. In more recent years, he has been joined by his sister and his brother.

Ou Tingfang, his younger sister, was reading Red Star Over China by Edgar Snow for summer break school assignment.

"I need to work harder than ever before," the 14-year-old said. "I don't want to let my family down."