Chapter 17: Snacks

Sang Shen and Yin Xing stood in the shade of an eave, watching the shop owner leisurely replace the bike’s chain and brake pads.

The sharp smell of motor oil drifted in the warm air.

Outside, the slope baked under the blazing sun, almost blindingly bright.

Looking down, you could see people struggling to push bikes or carts uphill.

The slope was steep—bicycles and tricycles strained to climb. Only young folks, faces red and necks taut, stubbornly pedaled up, grunting with effort.

Going downhill was far easier.

Sang Shen spotted an old man on a rickshaw, gliding down with a passenger, letting the breeze dry his sweat. He barely pedaled, occasionally tapping the brakes.

“Town rickshaws… didn’t see those in S City.”

He sighed nostalgically.

“Green tarps with random ads… do they still have those in the future town?”

“…”

Yin Xing’s gaze lingered on a rickshaw plastered with a men’s clinic ad, lost in thought, seemingly deaf to his words.

“All set, kid!”

The shop owner’s voice snapped Sang Shen back.

“Chain’s oiled, brakes are tight. Don’t brake too hard, or the front’ll dip.”

“Done? Thanks!”

Sang Shen turned, handing over a yellow-green bill with the faces of workers, farmers, and intellectuals. The owner washed his oil-stained hands in a dark basin before taking the bill, holding it to the light.

“Oh, don’t forget the lock keys. Three of ‘em.”

The owner stuffed the bill in his pocket, passing over a set of brass keys.

“Right, thanks.”

“Go on, ride it.”

The owner, clearly busy, didn’t linger to chat, diving back into his work.

Sang Shen patted the blue bike excitedly. The crossbar felt sturdy—probably could carry a fifty-jin sack of rice.

“This’ll make getting around easier… Yin Xing, you… oh, you’re already on?”

“…Hot.”

She grimaced.

“Oh, get off for a sec. We’ll rinse the seat at the bus stop’s restroom. It won’t burn then.”

“Whatever…”

“Alright, let’s go? Downhill’s gonna be cool!”

“Wait.”

Yin Xing, perched on the back seat, got off, stared at him for a few seconds, then sat sideways instead.

It seemed her first time sitting like this. She looked around curiously, even leaning back slightly—only to lose balance, grabbing Sang Shen’s shirt instinctively to steady herself.

“Uh… you okay sitting like that?”

“…Fine.”

“Don’t fall off.”

“…Won’t.”

“You almost…”

“…I held on.”

“Alright, hold tight then.”

Sang Shen felt her grip on his shirt tighten.

The bike wobbled as it started, like it might topple on the slope—but her grip tightened more.

As he found the bike’s balance, it steadied.

He eased off the brakes, and the bike picked up speed.

Pedaling alone was never this fast.

“Woo!”

He shouted, squinting into the rushing wind.

The breeze mussed Yin Xing’s pale green hair, strands brushing her cheeks. Her heavy mood seemed to lighten in the free wind, if only for a moment.

“Haha, so fun! I love downhill!”

“…Wind’s nice.”

Her voice was soft, nearly drowned by the breeze, but he caught it.

“See? Told you going out would lift your mood!”

Sang Shen turned back, still thrilled.

“Too bad the slope’s short. We’re already at the bottom.”

“Going up… feels longer.”

“Yeah, total opposite, haha. Someone said life’s like slopes. Things get bad, you’re going downhill. But downhill’s fun, right? If you can’t avoid it, might as well enjoy the breeze, yeah?”

“Downhill leads to more downhill.”

“Haha! Even better—endless wind to enjoy!”

Yin Xing froze, but before she could reply, Sang Shen pedaled hard, speeding up again.

She bumped lightly into his back from the momentum. In that instant, through his younger self’s eyes, she glimpsed the world’s flowing colors:

Life wasn’t so complicated.

Was it?

***

2005, halfway through the millennium.

The wheels of time rolled from cities to the countryside, carrying more people forward.

On the town’s bumpy roads, old vans from the ‘80s sped by.

Their shells were battered, but young drivers whipped them around with speed and skill.

Some had “Town Express” stickers—Yin Xing knew they were the seeds of future delivery services.

The Big Three and One Reach couriers started in Tong County, but in 2005, she hadn’t noticed these waves that would later tie so tightly to her life.

When tides come, no one knows what they’ll become.

Only time proves all.

Even grand achievements start small and plain.

The bike wobbled, signaling Sang Shen was slowing to turn.

He didn’t stick to the main road, instead veering into a narrow alley.

Maybe he thought the main road was too long, or he just wanted familiar sights.

Deeper in, the houses grew older, less polished than those by the main street.

They passed houses being repainted—some turned into mahjong parlors, others barbershops, or youth hostels, with “Lodging 10 Yuan” still wet on the walls.

At a village-in-town general store, a young woman leaned on the glass counter, clutching a phone to report home, her voice mixing excitement and nerves from leaving home.

“Grandma, I’m in town now. Tomorrow I’ll go to the city to find Mom and Dad. Then I’ll get a job. Yeah, I know, I know…”

Finally, Sang Shen stopped at a mud-brick house turned storefront.

It was a small shop with a blue tricycle parked inside. The middle-aged owner was busy chopping ingredients.

“Boss!”

Sang Shen called excitedly.

“No wonder I didn’t see your egg burgers out there—you haven’t gone yet?”

“Just sold a batch this morning, back to prep for the afternoon.”

The tall, lanky man looked up, not recognizing Sang Shen but flashing a salesman’s warm smile.

“Whoa, so hungry you chased me to my shop?”

“No, no, just checking—uh, nothing to eat now, right?”

“Got stuff. Want some? I’ll make it fresh.”

“One yuan each?”

“Yup. Want one?”

“Can you cut it in half? Like, two equal parts.”

“Sure, no problem. Spicy?”

“Nah, no need.”

The owner wiped his hands on his apron, moving swiftly to the tricycle snack cart.

“You’re lucky, stove’s still warm. Pan’ll heat quick!”

“Heh…”

Sang Shen licked his lips, his tongue already salivating at the thought of egg burgers.

A one-yuan egg burger wasn’t cheap for a student.

In the countryside, it was a rare treat.

But it was worth it—packed with a whole egg and plenty of minced meat. Great alone or as a side, one burger could fuel two bowls of rice easily.

The owner was skilled and fast. Soon, an egg burger was lifted from the gridded pan.

“Sweet bean sauce?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Both halves?”

“Yeah… both.”

“Alright.”

The owner spread sauce on the split burger, bagged it in small plastic, and handed it to Sang Shen.

“Hot, hot!”

“Hold it, let it cool a bit.”

The owner joked, “Can’t eat a hot burger if you’re impatient, haha!”

“Thanks.”

“No problem! Come back for more!”

“For sure!”

Sang Shen nodded eagerly, turning to show Yin Xing the bagged burger.

“Heh, got it! Our favorite snack back then!”

“…So cheap.”

“Cheap?”

Surprised, Sang Shen opened his half’s bag, taking a bite and huffing from the heat.

“Phew, hot—delicious! The sweet bean sauce is the key! You eating?”

“…Too hot.”

“Oh, right, wait a bit.

I wanna check out the school. Maybe we’ll find plum juice on the way—way better than cola or Sprite!”

Yin Xing didn’t object to his plans, just held the bag’s handle, shifting her gaze to the noisy general store nearby.

A pool table sat in the store’s open lot, surrounded by rowdy young folks—cheering when someone sank a shot, laughing when they missed.

Their joy seemed simple. Even watching from the sidelines looked fun.

Sang Shen wolfed down his half, smacking his lips contentedly, then hopped on the bike, pedaling off with Yin Xing.

The wheels rolled over bumpy roads, weaving through the town’s streets and alleys.

Shop speakers blared looping ads, vendors’ calls rose and fell, blending with the bright sunlight into the vibrant colors of the millennium era…