Lin Yiran naturally didn’t dare to ask more.

Before this, she had felt that everything that happened to her over the past year was surreal, but now, after hearing Qiu Xing’s simple four words, she realized that the world’s tragic jokes weren’t played on her alone.

Since her mother’s death, Lin Yiran had felt a sense of disconnection from her surroundings, feeling out of place with everything around her. Her previously stable life had been shattered; nothing from before remained.

But now, looking at Qiu Xing, this neighbor she hadn’t seen in ten years, their circumstances suddenly gave Lin Yiran a strange, tragicomic sense of shared suffering and familiarity. It was as if Qiu Xing no longer belonged to “everything around her,” but rather they were both isolated from their surroundings together. All around them were people and traffic flowing normally, while in the center of the cordoned-off square, there were only her and Qiu Xing.

The further south they drove, the thicker the clouds became, and the sky grew darker.

The world before them seemed covered with a layer of gray, and looking up, they couldn’t see the sun. Before noon, the truck drove into an area covered by clouds, like crossing a boundary. The moment they crossed it, raindrops began pounding down.

The rain created countless small pits on the surface of the river beside the road. The windshield wipers moved continuously in front, and all the vehicles on the highway slowed down, including Qiu Xing’s truck.

They were still more than a hundred kilometers away from the city Qiu Xing was heading to, where Lin Yiran would get off.

Most of the vehicles ahead turned into the service area, but Qiu Xing was in a hurry and didn’t stop.

The rain hadn’t stopped even when they turned onto the ramp to the city’s toll station.

Qiu Xing’s phone kept ringing: calls from the cargo owner, calls from Xiao Quan asking which exit to take at which toll station, and even wrong numbers.

Lin Yiran sat on the side with no presence at all, watching Qiu Xing drive into a completely unfamiliar city, continuing for another hour and a half, going along the outer ring road from the north side of the city to the south, and finally turning into some factory.

Someone saw him and walked over wearing a raincoat. Qiu Xing, not minding the heavy rain outside, opened the door and jumped down directly.

Qiu Xing exchanged a few words with the person, then returned to the truck. Lin Yiran hugged her backpack and said, “Qiu Xing, I’m leaving now.”

Qiu Xing was somewhat wet, looking down at his phone contacts without raising his head, as if he hadn’t heard her.

Lin Yiran said again, “Thank you for these past few days.”

Qiu Xing still didn’t respond.

Lin Yiran opened the door, and raindrops immediately fell on her arm. Qiu Xing only raised his head when he heard the door open and asked, “Where are you going?”

They had agreed earlier that she would get off in this city. Lin Yiran said, “I can get off here.”

Only then did Qiu Xing realize, and after looking outside, he said, “It’s raining, wait a bit. How will you leave now?”

Lin Yiran closed the door again. Qiu Xing made two phone calls, and afterward, the two of them sat in the truck without speaking to each other. When the person from before came over again, wearing a raincoat and calling him, Qiu Xing started the truck and drove to a warehouse entrance.

Several workers came out wearing raincoats. Qiu Xing turned off the engine, jumped down, untied the ropes and hooks of the cargo box, climbed along the side railing to the top of the truck, and rolled up the tarpaulin.

The workers below shouted for him to be careful, warning him about slipping in the rain.

After a while, Qiu Xing jumped down, his hands black and covered with mud and water. Qiu Xing opened the rear door of the truck, and the workers began unloading. Qiu Xing went into the building and came out a few minutes later after washing his hands, carrying two boxed meals.

Qiu Xing was soaked all over, but he seemed completely unconcerned. He handed the bag to Lin Yiran and said, “There are chopsticks inside.”

Lin Yiran took out the meal box and chopsticks from the bag and set them aside. Then she took out the towel she had bought at the service area supermarket that morning from her backpack and handed it to Qiu Xing.

“Dry yourself first, you’re soaked,” Lin Yiran said.

Qiu Xing looked at the towel Lin Yiran was offering but didn’t take it, saying, “No need, my hands are dirty.”

“It’s fine,” Lin Yiran said again.

Qiu Xing took it and wiped his hair, face, and neck, also giving his arms a couple of wipes. The towel became wet after use, and Lin Yiran took it back and hung it on the handle above her.

This towel was used back and forth several times that afternoon.

Every time Qiu Xing got back in the truck after going out, Lin Yiran would hand it to him, and after he used it, she would hang it up again. The two didn’t talk; apart from handing over the towel, Lin Yiran had almost no presence.

Until the workers finished unloading, Qiu Xing waited a while longer. The rain increased rather than decreased, and before dark, Qiu Xing needed to go to another county to unload the remaining half of the truck.

So Qiu Xing drove the truck out in the rain and got back on the highway.

Because of the rain, Lin Yiran didn’t get off Qiu Xing’s truck; after all, everywhere she could get off would be equally unfamiliar.

After unloading half the truck in the county town and loading up again—this was a backward and dilapidated small county town—Qiu Xing didn’t let her get off. Next, Qiu Xing was heading further south, not far from a beautiful city, and Lin Yiran wanted to get off there.

Lin Yiran spent another night on Qiu Xing’s truck.

Qiu Xing changed into different clothes, rolling up the set that had been soaked and then dried by his body heat, stuffing it onto the upper bunk. Qiu Xing lay on the lower bunk and quickly fell asleep again.

That night, Lin Yiran slept fitfully, waking up and looking back at Qiu Xing. He was in a deep sleep; he looked really tired.

Qiu Xing’s rarely-used phone began to vibrate just as dawn was breaking. The phone was in the miscellaneous box in the middle, and the vibration wasn’t loud.

Lin Yiran looked back to see Qiu Xing still asleep. She hesitated for a few seconds, then called out to him.

“Qiu Xing?”

Seeing no response, Lin Yiran spoke louder: “Qiu Xing.”

Qiu Xing opened his eyes to look at her, and Lin Yiran pointed to his phone, saying, “You have a call.”

Qiu Xing reached over to feel for it, brought it to his eyes to look, and answered.

“Mom?”

Qiu Xing cleared his throat and asked, “What’s wrong?”

The voice from the speaker wasn’t quiet, and Lin Yiran, sitting in front, could hear clearly: “What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping, Mom,” Qiu Xing said.

“What time is it, and you’re still sleeping? Skipping class?”

Qiu Xing looked at the time on his phone—3:40—and said helplessly, “It’s just past three in the morning, not past three in the afternoon. What class would I be attending?”

“Oh, oh, it’s morning? I thought it was afternoon, haha.” The voice on the phone sounded cheerful, then continued, “Then go back to sleep for a while, Mom will wake you up at five-thirty.”

Qiu Xing made an “mm” sound, and after a moment said, “I’ve set an alarm, I can get up by myself. You go to sleep.”

“Mom will wake you up and make you breakfast; you come and eat.”

Qiu Xing didn’t say much, just said, “Okay.”

After the call ended, Qiu Xing casually tossed the phone back into the miscellaneous box. He withdrew his arm to cover his forehead and eyes, and it wasn’t clear whether he had fallen back asleep.

Lin Yiran looked at him, then at the phone he had tossed back, and then silently looked out the window.

Outside, some of the trucks that had stopped there for the night were beginning to leave. Most of the drivers were middle-aged men, all with the unkempt appearance of people not concerned with small details while on the road, their faces showing fatigue.

Lin Yiran sat for a while longer, then, while Qiu Xing was still lying down, took her backpack and went to the bathroom.

When she returned, her hair was wet and wrapped in a towel. It was the same towel Qiu Xing had used yesterday, which she had scrubbed very clean.

Lin Yiran had also bought breakfast and, seeing Qiu Xing awake, handed it to him.

“I’ll wait a bit,” Qiu Xing said.

Lin Yiran put her backpack back by her feet and used the towel to dry her hair. Her hair was quite long; when let down, it could cover half of her back.

Qiu Xing was still lying in the same place. Lin Yiran tilted her head as she dried her hair, and occasionally small water droplets would fall from the ends of her hair onto Qiu Xing’s arm. Qiu Xing looked at them but casually wiped them away without concern.

At five-thirty, the phone rang right on time. Qiu Xing was already driving, and he answered the phone, holding it between his ear and shoulder.

“Mom.”

“Get up, son, time for school.” Fang Ya’s voice came through, with the gentleness of a mother speaking to her child.

“I know,” Qiu Xing responded.

“Are exams coming up soon?” Fang Ya asked softly. “Will you come see Mom after the exams?”

“Yes, I’ll see you after the exams,” Qiu Xing said.

“Shall I hang up then?” Fang Ya said with a laugh. “I need to go to work too.”

Qiu Xing made an “mm” sound and said, “Go ahead.”

The person on the other end of the phone repeated a few more things, all of which Qiu Xing agreed to, before finally hanging up.

When Qiu Xing spoke to her on the phone, his tone seemed warmer than usual. He spoke slowly and patiently responded even to disconnected thoughts.

In Lin Yiran’s memory, Fang Ya always spoke softly and gently. She was somewhat introverted but a very kind aunt. Back then, no matter how mischievous Qiu Xing was, it was always Uncle Qiu who disciplined him; Aunt Fang rarely raised her voice.

“Where does Aunt Fang live now?” Lin Yiran asked softly.

Qiu Xing said, “Anning Hospital.”

Anning Hospital wasn’t far from their old house. When they were children, it was a word that had a strong deterrent effect on kids in their neighborhood. “If you don’t behave, you’ll be taken to Anning Hospital”—this was an even scarier threat than “the child-snatcher.”

Anning Hospital was a psychiatric hospital, where long-term residents were all mentally ill patients.

It was a few minutes before Lin Yiran asked, “Is Aunt Fang’s… illness very serious?”

“It’s alright,” Qiu Xing said. “Half clear-minded, half confused.”

Lin Yiran asked again, “Do you visit her often?”

Qiu Xing said, “Not often.”

Lin Yiran turned to look at him: “No time?”

Qiu Xing said flatly, “I upset her when I went. She thinks I’m still in high school and shouldn’t be this grown up.”

“Does she remember when she sees you?”

“She does, so she can’t accept it.”

After a pause, Qiu Xing added, “I don’t want her to remember either. She should keep living in those high school years of mine.”

Qiu Xing’s tone was always numb and indifferent, but at this moment, Lin Yiran suddenly felt sad. She bent her knees to step onto the seat and hugged her knees.

Gentle Aunt Fang, kind Uncle Qiu. And her mother, her father. Her and Qiu Xing.

Those two harmonious little families from back then—some had left, some had scattered.

Childhood memories were like an old movie. At the beginning of the film, the sunlight was diffuse and time was long. But as the lengthy scenes played out one by one, the ending was broken and dark, lifeless.

Houses deteriorated, families separated. All that remained was this rickety old truck, carrying the two children from those days, fleeing along the road like fugitives.

“Qiu Xing,” Lin Yiran called him after a moment of silence.

Qiu Xing turned to look at her.

Lin Yiran hugged her knees, lowering her gaze: “I keep feeling like I’m in a dream.”

Qiu Xing didn’t respond, and Lin Yiran asked softly, “Will we ever wake up?”