He seemed to sense that Su Qingci was looking at him, so he raised his head and gave her a friendly smile.
On bed number 10, a short-haired woman wearing a polyester shirt was kneeling. She was skillfully taking out a piece of cloth with a rope and two small bamboo sticks to prop up her curtain.
Su Qingci breathed a sigh of relief; she was just afraid of encountering some strange neighbor along the way.
These two passengers looked like officials who frequently traveled for work; at least on the surface, they seemed like the kind of people who were well-mannered.
"I'll sleep on top."
She slept on the top floor, and the woman opposite her had hung up a curtain herself, so that she had some private space in the dead of night.
Song Jingzhou pulled a thin sheet out of his bag, stood on tiptoe on the lower bunk, and carefully laid it out for Su Qingci.
“I know you’re a clean person. Here, you can use this shirt as a pillow. If you’re cold, there’s also a thin blanket in the bag.”
Su Qingci was excited at first along the way.
Excitedly gazing at the myriad lights outside, at the vast and boundless landscape, from the beautiful south to the magnificent north, from sunny days to rainy days and back to sunny days, passing green mountains, rivers, villages and fields, where the crops have changed from rice to peanuts, corn and wheat.
The scenery of our motherland is indeed beautiful, but Suqing porcelain went from initial novelty and excitement to indifference, listlessness, depression, and finally teetering on the brink of collapse.
Although she had sneaked into the farm a few times late at night to get some fresh air, by the time she got off the bus, her soul had already flown away.
The clanging and rattling sensation of wheels rubbing against rails was deeply ingrained in her mind.
Hearing the familiar local dialect and looking up at the clear blue sky, a nameless sadness welled up in my heart.
"Kyoto, I'm back~"
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