There are only two daily buses from Brightsea City to Whitewood County, one in the morning and one in the afternoon.
A little after 2 p.m., Evan Lin got on the bus, carrying just a backpack and wearing a baseball cap. He’d stuffed a few textbooks inside to make it look like he was coming home from school.
If he came home empty-handed, his mom would definitely nag him about it.
Originally, Big Tank wanted to personally drive Evan back home.
In Big Tank’s eyes, Evan was basically like a second father to him.
But Evan turned him down without hesitation.
The bus jolted along the whole way.
The coach to Whitewood County was an old model from years ago, holding at most twenty-four people. The seats were worn out and the windows looked pretty shabby.
The trip took about an hour and a half, but because the driver wanted to save twenty yuan on tolls, he skipped the expressway and took the regular road instead, adding over half an hour to the journey.
The coach stopped and started along the way. The ticket lady leaned by the door, and people kept getting on for short rides.
The scenery changed from city high-rises to fields and farmland. Off in the distance were rolling mountains, rows of low houses lining the road, and kids yelling as they biked back and forth.
Passing through small towns, there were plenty of old folks selling things along the streets.
Most of them looked pretty old and worn.
At 5:10 p.m., the coach arrived at the Whitewood County bus station. Evan slung his backpack and got off.
Back in my last life, I spent my whole childhood here. In a blink, hundreds of years have flown by—who’d have thought I’d get to come back?
Evan looked at the rundown waiting hall in front of him. It was late, so most people inside were just newly arrived travelers, plus a few station workers cleaning up.
"Where you headed, kid? Want a ride on a tricycle?"
"Hey kid, need a ride?"
"You want a ride?"
As soon as he stepped out of the station, a crowd swarmed up, all shouting over each other.
Besides electric scooters and bicycles, the most common vehicles in Whitewood County are those three-wheeled little cars—motorcycle up front, passenger box in back, each one pretty small.
It used to cost two yuan for a ride, but as the county developed, prices went up to five yuan per trip.
In a small county like this, taxis are mostly for longer trips, while short rides are all done by tricycles. The whole county isn’t that big anyway.
"No thanks, I'm good."
Evan shook his head and slipped through the crowd.
It was just after five, not dark yet. Outside the station were rows of shabby little buildings, plenty of people, and kids chasing each other on bikes everywhere you looked.
Walking home, Evan took in everything around him—familiar yet strange. He walked slowly, feeling a strange warmth in his chest.
The more you’ve seen the world’s glitz and glamour, the more you appreciate how precious ordinary life really is.
Passing a little snack street, Evan bought a few spicy lamb skewers, a serving of fried noodles, and an iced Coke—all extra spicy, just like he used to love.
"Still tastes the same. Back then, just one skewer cost three yuan, fried noodles were six. I always wanted them but couldn’t bear to spend the money. Feels like it was just yesterday."
Evan sighed to himself.
Back when he had no money, Evan used to dream about having a lot—not to enjoy it himself, but to give Joy Zheng a better life. But reality was harsh and cold, and it made him miserable for years.
Every time he saw Joy Zheng coming home exhausted, still having to cook, clean, and do all the housework, Evan felt awful inside.
"Mom, your Evan has grown up. I can protect you now."
Evan took a big gulp of Coke. The cold ran down his throat and spread through his chest—his eyes were full of determination.
He tossed the can into a roadside trash bin and headed for home.
Evan’s house was on the east side of Whitewood County, among rows of tiny single-story flats, each about sixty square meters.
Most people living here were the county’s poorest.
Over the years, Whitewood County developed fast—lots of demolition and new buildings—but none of that made much difference for hardworking folks like Joy Zheng.
Joy Zheng only made a little over two thousand yuan a month. After daily expenses, Evan’s living costs, and school supplies, there was basically nothing left.
All these years, Whitewood County’s such a tiny place—wages never went up, but housing prices kept climbing. From just over a thousand yuan per square meter, it shot up past six thousand, even eight thousand in better spots.
With prices this crazy, the poor just get poorer, the rich get richer. Local officials didn’t control it at all, so real estate developers made a killing. But for people without money, it’s like they’re stuck in the slums forever.
A flood of memories rushed through Evan’s mind. Up ahead, he could already see rows of run-down flats.
From a distance, those flats looked shabby—up close, they were even worse.
"Xiao Yi, you’re back? How’s everything outside?"
Not far away, a middle-aged woman carrying a vegetable basket walked over. When she saw Evan, her face lit up.
"It’s fine. School’s out for break, that’s all."
Evan smiled. The woman was Helen Cai, about the same age as his mom Joy Zheng. Back when Evan was little and hadn’t started school, Joy was busy teaching, so Evan spent a lot of time with Helen, who helped look after him.
Helen Cai ran a little mahjong parlor at home, living off the forty-yuan table fee she took from every game.
She had a son who joined the army three years ago, after pulling a lot of strings.
"Oh, I even asked your mom about you. I said, how come you’re not home when school’s out? I was worried something happened to you."
"You haven’t eaten yet, right? I bought fish for tonight—come eat with us! Haven’t seen you in ages, and you’ve grown taller too. That’s good!"
Helen Cai kept chattering, her face full of honest warmth.
"I already ate. Let me help you with that."
Evan took the basket from Helen Cai and walked with her toward home.
"It really does feel like forever since I last saw you. You’ve gotten so much more sensible, Xiao Yi! Just the other day I asked your mom about you—she said you even went out for some competition?"
"It’s good to compete. Just don’t end up like your brother—he didn’t study, so he had to join the army and he’s still stuck there!"
The ‘brother’ Helen meant was her own son, Tony Cai. Years ago, she divorced her abusive husband and raised Tony alone—kind of like Joy Zheng, really.