The coach bus rumbled along the provincial road for hours. Outside the window, the view shifted from city high-rises to squat houses, then to wide stretches of farmland and green hills in the distance.
Leaning against her seat, Su Rui drifted into a light sleep, lulled by the gentle sway of the bus.
It wasn't a deep sleep—more like wandering on the edge of someone else's dream.
When she woke, the scenery had already changed to a sea of dark green fields. The wind rippled through the rice like waves, and a few egrets glided over the water, leaving faint rings behind them.
The driver shouted at the top of his voice, "End of the line!"
Su Rui felt a faint tightening in her chest.
She was only here to check out a village, yet it felt as if she wasn't approaching Lin Yueying's hometown—rather, the land itself was drawing closer to her.
So this was what people meant by returning to a place with mixed feelings.
Dragging her luggage, she got off and transferred to a small bus that would take her to a place called "Chijiao Village," where Lin Yueying's home was.
The small bus was an old, battered minibus. The moment its door creaked open, a wave of heat and noise hit her in the face. The aisle was crammed full—women with vegetable baskets, young mothers holding babies, men in plastic slippers carrying bulging woven sacks. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, earth, and the faint tang of plastic bags.
Even more overwhelming was the sound—
Conversations overlapped in a jumble of local dialects, voices rising and falling in a rhythm that made her feel as if she'd stepped into a foreign marketplace.
Su Rui was still spacing out when a sharp, quick female voice rang out beside her.
"Granny Lin! Is that you, Granny Lin?"
She turned her head to see a small-framed woman grinning from ear to ear, looking about ten years younger than Lin Yueying. Without pause, the woman launched into a rapid-fire stream of the local dialect.
What shocked Su Rui most was—
She actually understood it.
Roughly translated, the woman was saying:
"My, it's been ages, Granny Lin! If it weren't for you, my son would still be single!"
Su Rui blinked.
…Wait, what the hell? Lin Yueying was the village's matchmaker?
She almost laughed out loud—this plot twist was more dramatic than a soap opera.
The woman introduced herself as Xiu Hui, her smile warm and genuine.
Su Rui exchanged a few words with her, and before she knew it, she was speaking in the same dialect—smoothly, naturally.
It wasn't something she'd learned from memory; it felt… embedded in the body itself.
Well, isn't that something? Turns out the body comes with its own built-in language pack, she thought, secretly a little impressed.
And since fate had sent her this clearly well-connected "information hub," there was no way she'd waste the opportunity.
Sure enough, Aunt Xiu Hui's information flow was explosive—
Which family had built a three-story house this year, whose pigs had twelve piglets last month, which daughter-in-law had fought with her in-laws and gone back to her parents' home… she could reel it all off like an entertainment news anchor.
Su Rui listened while mentally taking notes, thinking that if she'd met this aunt earlier, she could've mapped out Lin Yueying's entire social network in under three days.
From the chatter, she learned that Lin Yueying hadn't returned to the village in a year.
Just as Su Rui was about to toss out a casual response, Xiu Hui suddenly stopped smiling.
Her gaze sharpened, as if tightening a string.
"You…" Xiu Hui lowered her voice, the tone suddenly serious.
"Have you found your daughter yet?"
Su Rui froze.
It was as if someone had abruptly pushed open a door she wasn't ready for.
The bus was still noisy, but to her ears, the world felt muffled—leaving only the sound of her own heartbeat.