By the time Su Ying returned to the hotel, she was completely exhausted. She collapsed onto the bed like a heap of mud. It took her a good while to recover after closing her eyes.
She fished out her mobile and checked her WeChat step count, then gasped in surprise. She’d actually walked a full 28,000 steps today; on a typical workday, she’d manage no more than three or four thousand.
No wonder they say travelling is such a physical exertion.
Su Ying felt as though her legs were filled with lead. She had originally planned to visit Wushan Scenic Area the next day, but now, considering the sheer size of the site, the vastness of the mountain, and the endless mountain trails, she immediately had second thoughts.
Su Ying thought it over and decided she’d rather not put herself through that ordeal; she’d head home tomorrow.
Su Ying was now too exhausted even to muster the strength to turn on her computer. Lying on her back in bed, staring at the ceiling, she suddenly thought of her senior.
During his four years at university in the provincial capital, had he ever been to the zoo? Had he ever visited Wushan Scenic Area?
Had he ever, like her today, walked a staggering 20,000 steps in a single day?
Su Ying even considered visiting her senior’s alma mater, but she quashed the thought the moment it arose.
Early the next morning, as Su Ying was packing her bags to check out, she unexpectedly discovered three forgotten breakfast vouchers on the table. She hadn’t used a single one; she couldn’t let them go to waste, so she had to give them a try.
She immediately decided to delay her check-out and head to the restaurant on the second floor to sample the fare.
Su Ying arrived just in time for the meal, and nearly half the seats in the restaurant were already taken.
The restaurant operated as a buffet. Su Ying took a tray and made a quick tour of the area; the variety was far greater than she had imagined.
There was both Chinese and Western fare: steamed buns and mantou, various types of congee, fried rice with fried dough sticks, and appetisers. Over in the Western section, there were toasters and small cakes, whilst the self-cooking station even featured breakfast pans for frying eggs, as well as electric cookers for boiling noodles, wontons and dumplings.
She suddenly felt as though she’d missed out on a fortune by not coming for breakfast the past two days.
Su Ying took some cold shredded kelp salad and a small spoonful of fried rice, then, tray in hand, headed enthusiastically over to the ready-to-cook section to fry two eggs to try.
The heat from the breakfast pan was a bit low; it took nearly four minutes just to fry one side. She cracked the eggs into the pan, holding the small spatula to flip them, and grew somewhat impatient as she waited. Just as she was about to give up, she suddenly froze.
Ever since she’d started working, every morning had been a frantic rush, like a battle. Even on her rare days off, she’d spend them catching up on sleep, never catching a glimpse of the morning sun.
Back then, she’d always envied the female leads in TV dramas who woke up at a leisurely pace, washed up, and savoured their breakfast in peace. Wasn’t she now living the very life she’d longed for?
The eggs in the pan had set, and Su Ying carefully lifted the edges with her spatula before flipping them over.
Once she returned to Chun City, she’d be able to enjoy the early morning hours at this leisurely pace from now on.
Su Ying gazed at the perfectly round fried egg now resting on the plate. It was truly perfect!
This was how life should be.
Before leaving, Su Ying cast one last glance at this bustling provincial capital. It was a lovely, lively place, but it didn’t belong to her.
It was time to return to her own little corner of the world.
When purchasing her return ticket on 12306, Su Ying’s finger hesitated; she didn’t choose the cheapest second-class seat, but instead, as if by some strange impulse, opted for business class.
Although it was several hundred yuan more expensive than second class, she wouldn’t be travelling this way every day, so she decided to treat it as a life experience.
Business Class had its own waiting room. A staff member in uniform registered her journey details and informed her that she would receive a boarding reminder.
Once inside, Su Ying looked around. The waiting room was quite full; at a glance, it appeared almost completely occupied, rather than the sparse crowd she had imagined. Still, compared to the main waiting hall outside, it was certainly much quieter.
Su Ying eventually found a curved sofa and sat down somewhat stiffly at the edge. On the sofa, a woman who looked like a business executive on a work trip was speaking quietly on the phone whilst typing away on her laptop; opposite her, an elderly lady with grey hair was quietly leafing through a magazine.
She thought about taking out her mobile to play a few rounds of Happy Match, but after a moment’s thought, she put it back.
Su Ying’s train wouldn’t depart for another hour or so. After sitting there for a while, she grew a bit bored and got up to have a look at the refreshment area.
At the counter, there was a coffee machine and a selection of biscuits, sweets and other snacks, whilst the drinks cabinet contained small 330ml bottles of soft drinks—all familiar brands that she could easily afford.
Su Ying felt a little disappointed; there weren’t any of the high-end, posh drinks or snacks she’d heard so much about.
The provincial capital station was considered a major hub, yet the high-speed rail waiting room was nothing to write home about.
However, she consoled herself with a quote she’d seen on short videos: ‘You’re not just paying for the service, but for the space.’
Still, keen to make the most of the freebies, Su Ying took a small amount of every snack and drink, carefully packing them all into her LV handbag so as not to spoil her boxed meal.
When ticket checking began, a member of staff personally escorted her through the priority lane; on the vast platform, there were only the attendant and her. Upon reaching the platform, a dedicated member of staff guided her to the entrance of the business-class compartment.
While other passengers were still queuing in long lines on the platform, she was already the first to board the train.
Back in Chun City, the first thing Su Ying did was head to the Cainiao parcel station. Over the past few days, the items she’d ordered online had been arriving in batches, and the sheer volume of parcels left her gaping in amazement.
She borrowed a trolley from the owner and had to make three trips back and forth to carry all the parcels.
In the area where Su Ying rents, there are many older housing estates built around the turn of the millennium, with five or six storeys and no lifts; some have garages on the ground floor, whilst others have storage rooms.
The owner of the parcel station had bought two of these garages: one serves as the station, whilst she lives in the other with her daughter.
As Su Ying was returning the trolley, the owner, who was in the middle of cooking, called out, “Care to join us for a bite?”
Su Ying pulled a chocolate bar from her pocket and handed it to the owner’s daughter, saying loudly, “No, thank you. I’ll just head home now that I’ve returned the trolley.”
The winter evening breeze was biting cold. Su Ying pulled the hood of her down jacket over her head and tucked both hands into her pockets. She watched the owner bustling about the stove for a moment, then glanced at the room—small though it was, it was decorated in a very cosy way.
For some reason, she felt a strange sense of emptiness inside.
She recalled her childhood: in the small courtyard of her family home, a tin shed had been built to serve as a storeroom. A small space partitioned off by a cloth curtain within that shed was her bedroom—cold in winter, hot in summer, and rattling with every drop of rain. It was the first time she’d ever had a space of her own.
After her father passed away, her stepmother took her younger brother and left, and she finally moved into the bedroom in the main house. But when her grandfather died and her grandmother moved in, her room became her grandmother’s storage space once more.
For the entire 24 years of her life, she had never had a room of her own.
Su Ying had even thought that once she’d saved enough money, she would buy a house in Hegang or Huainan to spend her retirement.
At this thought, Su Ying stopped in her tracks. She now had money—a great deal of it, more than she could ever have earned in a lifetime.
She no longer needed to travel all the way to that distant, frigid Hegang to buy a flat; she could buy one right here in this city of eternal spring.
At last, she could have a room of her own.