The green train clattered along the tracks, blurring the scenery outside the window into flowing patches of color. Lin Wanqiu leaned against Shen Tingzhou's shoulder, the faint scent of tobacco and soap mingling with the sweet aroma of osmanthus cake from his suitcase, weaving a net of "peace and security." Outside the window, autumn was in full swing on the North China Plain, with golden wheat fields stretching endlessly like a golden carpet spread across the earth, occasionally dotted with a few red maples, like clusters of leaping flames.

"Remember? That year we went to the county town to sell pickles, we took one of these old green trains too." Lin Wanqiu's fingertips gently brushed against the thin mist condensing on the train window, her voice soft with a touch of nostalgia. Back then, she was wearing coarse cloth clothes patched all over, her arms wrapped in lotus leaves, her palms sweating with nervousness, afraid of being noticed. And the man beside her, then, was still hiding in the crowd, silently shielding her from the throng, bearing the label of "sacrifice."

Shen Tingzhou held her slightly cool fingertips, his fingertips tracing the thin calluses on her knuckles from years of hard work, his eyes brimming with heartache and tenderness. "How could I forget? You were clutching your purse, your hands trembling, yet you still insisted on buying Nian'an a piece of malt candy." He lowered his head and planted a light kiss on the top of her head. "Now it's all good. We don't have to struggle for a few dollars anymore; we can go wherever we want."

Lin Wanqiu looked up into his deep eyes, eyes that held the trials and triumphs of her life. She nodded gently, a smile curving her lips, but tears welled in her eyes. Yes, it's over. From that miserable widow, tormented by her in-laws and nearly drowning in the icy river, to the founder of Shenji Food Factory, about to step out of the country and see the world, only the two of them knew the hardships she had endured.

The train headed north, arriving in Beijing, the capital. The moment Lin Wanqiu stepped out of the train station, she couldn't help but hold her breath. The wide streets were bustling with traffic, buildings stood shoulder to shoulder, and people in all sorts of clothes hurried by. A vibrant, upward-looking energy permeated the air. This was the first time she had seen such a prosperous scene since her time travel, far more lively than the county town she remembered from the 1960s.

"Let's settle into the guesthouse first, and I'll take you to Wangfujing this afternoon." Shen Tingzhou carried the suitcase, holding Lin Wanqiu's hand tightly in his other hand, afraid she would get lost in the crowd. He had already asked his old comrade to book a room in the guesthouse; it was clean and tidy, with a faint smell of disinfectant. After putting down their luggage, Lin Wanqiu was led by Shen Tingzhou onto the streets of Wangfujing.

The dazzling array of shops overwhelmed Lin Wanqiu. Stylish polyester shirts were displayed in the windows, exquisite pastries and candies were showcased in the counters, and there were also Western trinkets she had only ever seen in books—it was all so overwhelming. Passing a food shop, Lin Wanqiu stopped, her gaze falling on the bread in the window. The bread was golden and soft, looking delicious and indistinguishable from the modern bread in her space.

"Want to come in and try some?" Shen Tingzhou saw through her thoughts and smiled as he pushed open the door. The aroma wafted out of the shop, a rich fragrance of milk mixed with wheat, making one's mouth water. Lin Wanqiu bought two breads, handed one to Shen Tingzhou, and took a bite herself. The soft texture melted on her tongue, with a subtle sweetness, making her involuntarily squint her eyes. "It tastes good, but it's missing a bit of our homemade osmanthus filling."

Shen Tingzhou chuckled upon hearing this: "You, you never forget your favorite foods no matter where you go." Though he said this, the doting affection in his eyes was almost overflowing.

After spending two days in Beijing and completing their exit procedures, the two boarded an international train bound for the Soviet Union. The train slowly pulled out of the station, heading towards a distant foreign land. Lin Wanqiu leaned against the window, watching the scenery outside gradually change from the familiar North China Plain to rolling mountains and vast forests, her heart filled with both novelty and trepidation.

Shen Tingzhou sat opposite her, holding a Russian dictionary and reading aloud in a low voice. His voice was deep and pleasant, with a unique rhythm, and Lin Wanqiu listened intently. "Why are you learning this?" she asked curiously.

“When we get to the Soviet Union, we can’t just go without saying hello.” Shen Tingzhou put down his dictionary and reached out to ruffle her hair. “Don’t worry, I’m here. I won’t let you suffer any injustice.”

After several days of travel, the international train finally arrived in Moscow, the capital of the Soviet Union. The moment Lin Wanqiu stepped out of the station, she was stunned by the sight before her. The majestic Red Square stood before her, the Kremlin's spires piercing the sky, the red brick walls gleaming in the sunlight, and the people in the square, bundled in thick coats, wore cheerful smiles. A biting wind, carrying snowflakes, swept over her, and Lin Wanqiu couldn't help but shiver. Shen Tingzhou quickly draped his coat over her shoulders and held her tightly in his arms.

"Are you cold?" he asked, looking down at her, his warm breath brushing against her ear.

Lin Wanqiu shook her head, her gaze drawn to the food stalls beside the square. Steaming hot rye bread and tempting borscht were displayed on the carts, their rich aroma wafting in the cool breeze. She pulled Shen Tingzhou over and, using the Russian he had taught her, stammered as she bought two loaves of rye bread. Taking a bite, the rough texture and slightly sour taste were completely different from the delicate pastries she usually ate, yet they had a unique flavor.

"How does it taste?" Shen Tingzhou asked with a smile, looking at her expression.

"It's alright, just a bit too sour." Lin Wanqiu wrinkled her nose and handed him the rest of the bread. "Try it."

Shen Tingzhou took the bread, took a big bite, and chewed it carefully. "It's definitely not as good as our osmanthus cake," he said seriously, making Lin Wanqiu giggle.

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