Below Rainbow Mountain, the incessant beeping of trucks filled the air, a middle-aged driver couldn't stand the boredom any longer, he opened the door, stepped out of the cabin, and looked ahead—there were at least a hundred vehicles clogged up in front, traffic stretching from the foot to the waist of the mountain.
He looked back, vehicles one after another behind him carrying the smell of gasoline and dust, joined up like in the game of Snake, each attaching to the back end of the car ahead.
Shaking his head, he walked over to the car behind his, calling out, "Brother, got a light?"
A plump man hopped out from the rear car, quite hospitable, even offering him a cigarette.
The two smoked and with nothing better to do, they started chatting idly as they looked out at the bustling Rainbow Mountain:
"How many runs have you made?"
"Three days, about ten trips, the work is urgent!"
