Jie stepped off the train and drifted forward with the crowd, aimless and without a destination.
It was around four in the afternoon. The sky was still bright, but the sun had begun to tilt, as if gently nudged forward by time, casting its slanted light onto the streets of this unfamiliar city and stretching the shadows of every building into long, lonely shapes. The air was a blend of sizzling street food, the sweet scent from milk tea shops, and the heavy tang of car exhaust. The chatter of voices, the hum of traffic, and the rise and fall of noise surrounded him—yet felt as though they were separated from him by an invisible wall.
Exiting the high-speed rail station, he was met with a gust of wind, cooler than the air inside the train. Following the flow of people, he passed a McDonald's. Through the large glass windows, he could almost see a younger version of himself, Di, and Lan sitting by the window, laughing as they fought over the last French fry. That warmth and noise, even from behind glass, felt like it belonged to another world—one that was drifting further and further away from him.
A little further on was a bubble tea shop. The sweet, creamy scent spilling from the doorway pulled him back to a summer afternoon—three of them holding freshly bought cups of pearl milk tea, taking a sip and laughing, talking about their dreams.
Lan had said she wanted to be a kindergarten teacher because she hoped children could grow up in a loving and safe environment. Jie had smiled at the time but quietly stored the thought away—it was a dream warm as sunlight, one that made him think, Of course it's Lan.
As for Di's dream… he couldn't quite remember.
But he remembered clearly the dream he hadn't shared with them that day—his true wish—that the three of them could always be together. Even if they couldn't be inseparable in person, they would keep in touch, or attend the same university.
Now, he wasn't even sure how much longer the three of them could stay the way they were.
He walked down street after street, the names on the signs unfamiliar, like words in another language. Looking down at his own shadow, he felt as if it, too, was deliberately keeping its distance. The streets were still bustling, filled with voices and laughter, yet no amount of noise could fill the emptiness in his chest.
When his legs finally began to ache, he stepped into a convenience store and sat down in a corner seat.
Bright lights lit up the shelves lined with drinks, snacks, and neatly arranged rice balls. He simply sat there, staring, picking up nothing. Everything looked the same, and everything felt irrelevant.
Then, a low and steady voice came from just behind him—
"Go with this one. The eel rice ball."
Jie froze for a moment before turning his head.
The light in the convenience store seemed to soften at that instant, casting a warm glow over the figure standing a short distance away.
He hadn't yet fully seen the person's face, but in his mind, a clear image had already begun to take shape—like a story left unfinished, quietly drawing nearer.