Yezi looked around and only found one hostel. Upon inquiry, the price was a whopping eighty yuan per night.
Looking at what little money he had left, Yezi had barely over a hundred yuan. Just buying a ticket to Beijing had nearly depleted his "private savings."
Under the disdainful gaze of the hostel owner, Yezi walked out dejectedly.
After wandering around the town, Yezi's stomach embarrassingly started growling. This small, unnamed town, thriving only because of the train station, hardly had any places to eat.
Yezi then walked around again, finally finding a barbecue stall by the river that operated at night.
"Boss, two plates of fried noodles," said Yezi, famished. As soon as the fried noodles arrived, he devoured them so quickly that he couldn't even recall the taste afterward.
