Chapter 328: Drifting Off

You always get so sleepy when you’re riding in a car.

Especially with that gentle rocking motion—it’s as peaceful and steady as being in a cradle from childhood.

At some point, the car grew calm, even the engine stopped its “putt-putt” vibration, and the originally cool, crisp air turned muggy and warm.

An Jing felt her eyelids heavy as if filled with lead, and with each difficult sway of her head, her brain seemed to slosh around like it was full of seawater, making a “whoosh-whoosh” sound.

Of course, that was just an illusion.

An illusion of not being able to wake up.

“Ahh—! Whew…” It wasn’t until she finally struggled her eyes open that she felt like she’d been pulled from the water, but when she looked down, her clothes were still dry—at most, there was just a bit more sweat on her cheeks.

The music in the car had stopped, or rather, the entire car had stopped—parked along this somewhat unfamiliar roadside.

The window was half open, and a breeze that wasn’t particularly cool brushed across An Jing’s face in wave after wave.

The road was still the same road, but gradually, it started to look a little familiar.

An Jing shook her sweat-dampened hair, sat up a bit straighter, and her gaze landed on the fruit shop next to the convenience store.

Her cousin was pointing at a box of apples, saying something to the boss.

And An Jing finally remembered where she recognized this place.

This seemed to be near Grandfather’s house.

She’d only come for a few summer vacations, but they always passed through here when going out.

Whether buying fruit or some snacks, they’d have to come here—or if not here, they’d walk a bit further to the Walmart across the river.

Being here meant they were practically already at Grandfather’s house.

Her cousin must have gotten out to buy some fruit to bring as a gift for the old man.

Although his blood relation to An Jing’s grandfather was quite distant, since they were going to meet, he had to bring some kind of courtesy gift.

Fruit was the most appropriate—not too expensive, most people could eat it, and it looked presentable. The only downside was probably that it spoiled easily.

Her cousin in the shop walked over to a large pile of watermelons. The sign reading “Small City Qilin Melon” was especially eye-catching, and for An Jing, who had already left her hometown, it gave her a subtle, strange feeling.

When buying this variety of watermelon back home, the signs always said “Local Qilin Melon” or just simply “Qilin Melon.”

And people back home didn’t seem to like buying this kind of watermelon much—they preferred another smaller variety, saying it tasted fresher and sweeter.

But here in the province capital, this watermelon had transformed into a premium gift item. Perhaps it was because of its larger size—the total price wasn’t too high relatively speaking, and it looked more impressive when given as a gift.

Still, seeing this thing that sold for thirty cents a pound in the small city go for one dollar twenty here made An Jing can’t help but click her tongue.

The fruit shopping seemed mostly done. Her cousin paid, and the boss and his wife enthusiastically helped carry the items over and load them into the trunk.

“You’re awake.”

“Yeah, you bought this much fruit?”

“Haha, because we’re going to someone else’s place later, so I figured I’d buy everything all at once.”

“Oh, I thought it was all for my grandfather.”

“Cough.” Her cousin’s expression turned a bit awkward. “For your grandfather, it’s just a watermelon, a bag of mangoes, and a bunch of grapes.”

“That’s still plenty.” An Jing suddenly felt like she might have said something wrong. “I didn’t mean it like that—even if you didn’t bring fruit for my grandfather, it wouldn’t matter…”

“Haha, I know, I know.” Her cousin patted An Jing on the head, his voice turning cheerful. He twisted the key and started the car, and a not-so-cool breeze immediately blew through the cabin. “We’re almost there, so don’t fall asleep on me again.”

“It’s not like I’ve never been here before…” An Jing pursed her lips and looked out at the orange-red sunset. “I wake up and it’s almost dark—feels like I slept for a really long time.”

“Haha, you were sleeping the whole time back there. I even stopped at a rest area for a bit.” Ye Ronghua didn’t pull onto the main road but instead drove slowly along the service road. The somewhat blurry display screen was no longer playing a movie but was now giving him more detailed satellite navigation.

Otherwise, her cousin, who’d never been here before, probably wouldn’t have found the place so easily.

“Really? Huh… I don’t remember any of it.” An Jing scratched her head and leaned against the raised window. “Every time I come from the small city to the province capital, it’s basically evening by the time we arrive…”

“If you left earlier, you could probably get here by noon.”

“But it seems like every time we have to pack up some things in the morning, or detour around the city to buy something—my dad always likes to bring along some small city specialties.”

“Haha, I know. Uncle and the others are always like that—sticky rice cakes, dried rice noodles, dried shrimp… they’ve gotta bring it all. And a lot of it isn’t even for themselves.”

-Like for those relatives and friends who don’t have a car or haven’t gone back in a long time, but still miss the tastes of home.

“Well, they’re all family anyway…” An Jing nodded gently. “Last time, I think my dad even drove all the way to S City to bring A Hu’s family twenty pounds of sticky rice cake, right?”

“Haha, yeah, and he even specially brought A Hu a few hot stuffed rice cakes.”

“Tsk, I don’t know what’s so good about those things. The filling is all messy, the rice cake is hard to chew, and after eating it, it always makes your stomach feel bloated…”

“Damn, are you even a small city person?”

“Well, I don’t think they taste good.”

“I think those things are super delicious. Every time I go back, I have to buy one to try.” Ye Ronghua smacked his lips. “This time I even brought some to eat on the road—finished them all back at the rest area.”

“Cold stuffed rice cakes are even worse…”

“Nah, they were fine—still warm!”

Her cousin chuckled softly, gripped the steering wheel, and turned the car into what looked like an old, worn-down residential community.

This area used to be factory dormitory buildings. After entering the new era, it had been renamed “Xinyan Garden Community.”

As soon as they drove in, the speed dropped another notch—from twenty or thirty miles per hour down to five or six, or even slower.

The evening glow cast its light diagonally across the community roads. On both sides, besides the tall, straight pine trees, there were all sorts of miscellaneous trees: osmanthus trees, camphor trees, banyan trees, tangerine trees, peach trees…

They grew in a chaotic manner, clearly not part of any original plan.

This was the hallmark of old factory dormitories. Even though they were in a big city, they weren’t as neatly planned as other communities. Not only were there randomly growing trees everywhere, but cars were also parked haphazardly—some right in front of building entrances, some under trees, and some in front of other people’s shops.

Yes, there were shops in this old community too. Not many, but they made everyday life considerably more convenient.

Entering through the main entrance that didn’t actually have a gate, there was a noodle shop on the left.

It was run by a middle-aged man who was a bit hard of hearing, tall and skinny-looking, and a middle-aged woman who was so plump she could barely bend down.

One summer vacation, An Jing had eaten there. Its signature dish was oil residue noodles, and the price was very affordable—back then, one yuan could get you a big bowl. Though who knew how much it cost now.

Further along were all sorts of curious little shops, like one that specialized in cake supplies—all kinds of molds and cake ingredients could be bought there.

There was also a shop that only sold ladders. From what she remembered, its glass door was always locked, as if it had never opened. But every time she came, it was still there.

Shops like that—closed all year round yet never going out of business—were actually quite common in this old community.

Slowly, the car reached a fork in the road. There were three branches: the left led to some newer dormitory buildings, all five stories; straight ahead were some slightly older ones, mostly four stories; and to the right were the old dormitories, ranging from five to four to three stories, with even some old single-story cement houses tucked away in the furthest corners.

“Which way?” her cousin turned and asked.

“Uh… if you’re driving, turn right here… then keep going straight all the way to the end. But, I’m not sure if your car can back out.”

“I see cars parked along the roadside, so it should be fine to back out, right?”

“Let me think… there’s an empty lot next to Grandfather’s house… should be okay?”

“Alright, I’m heading in then.” Her cousin turned the steering wheel with wide, deliberate motions and drove in.

On the already narrow internal roads, cars were occasionally parked along the side. Not many, but it still made driving a bit uncomfortable.

A few children were chasing each other in the alleyways, letting out joyful laughter, which involuntarily reminded An Jing of the summer vacations she’d spent here.

Grandfather’s place was cramped and narrow, nowhere near as spacious as the small city, but there were plenty of playmates her age, and the city center was much more bustling than the small city.

An Jing still remembered the day she went to the Youth Palace—couldn’t even get a turn on the rides, the kids had the lines stretching so long…

“Collecting scrap cardboard, toothpaste tubes…” A three-wheeled cart slowly approached from ahead. A white speaker at its front was playing a Mandarin announcement with a provincial dialect accent. Upon seeing Ye Ronghua’s car, it slowly pulled to the side, waiting for the car to pass first.

“Good thing I’ve got experience living in old cramped places in S City.” Ye Ronghua muttered as he slowly drove past. At the tightest moment, the side mirror nearly scraped against the wall of the low building beside them.

Once they finally made it through, Ye Ronghua let out a long breath and slightly released the brake, but he didn’t dare press the gas pedal at all—in these crisscrossing alleys, who knew if someone might dart out from the side. Even if it wasn’t a person, cats or dogs would be troublesome enough.

The further they went in, the older and more worn the roads became, their colors deepening.

The houses got shorter and shorter, one lower than the next.

Finally, the car reached the end. On the left was a row of connected three-story low buildings, and on the right were scattered two-story houses.

According to Grandfather—back in the day, these were places where only engineers or senior technicians could live. Even the workshop directors weren’t qualified to reside here.

He always described these old houses as big and beautiful, even boasting roof tiles that other houses didn’t have—but now, they looked small and old. The exterior walls weren’t even painted, with electrical wires and water pipes simply and crudely “running” along the outside of the walls. You could directly see the dull-colored red bricks, and even spot holes in the corners that rats had gnawed out, patched back up with newspapers and foam adhesive…