"He sank, he fell." You mocked him repeatedly, but you should know that he fell from a height higher than all of you. He went from extreme joy to sorrow, but his bright light follows closely behind your darkness. - Nietzsche

How long have I been asleep?

It's meaningless to discuss that now. Reluctantly, I open my eyes and smell various suspicious scents in my nose. I take a sniff and identify the smells of Kangshifu braised beef noodles, green onions, KFC New Orleans grilled wings, cheap white wine, bean paste, and the smell of freshly removed shoes.

Chinese trains are always like this, like a cafeteria that operates late into the night. If you're unlucky and didn't manage to get a sleeper ticket, but instead have to squeeze into a hard seat carriage, the food you buy from the cafeteria will taste like leftovers, whether you like it or not, whether you accept it or not, you have to swallow it. And the smell is like textured fog, thick, sticky, covering your eyes.

I twist open a bottle of mineral water and drink more than half of it in one breath. Then I slowly take out my glasses from my pocket and put them on. The things in front of me become clear.

In front of me is a middle-aged man with an expressionless face, wearing a thick coat, tightly gripping a black leather bag (his hands covered in wrinkles, rough), with a crack in his shoes. He looks out of the window absentmindedly. Next to him is a young girl, dressed plainly, with an average appearance, listening to an MP3 player with her eyes closed (a domestic product that has been used for a long time). On my left is an old woman who, like me, fell asleep on the table, with a trace of saliva flowing down her mouth, leaving a sparkling puddle on the table. I withdraw my gaze with disinterest and turn my head to look out the window.

It's a gloomy early spring day. The place the train just passed is a desolate land, with no hardworking farmers sowing in spring as one would imagine. Even the oxen are nowhere to be seen. Occasionally, a few low, short houses pass by, and you can see some children wearing thick winter coats playing in front of the doors. What are they playing? Children's happiness is so simple. Perhaps just running in the dust is enough to make them happy.

I grab a passing stewardess who is struggling through the crowd and ask, "When can I get a sleeper ticket?"

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Wait, can't you see how busy it is now? An impatient stewardess with a wide face says, "So annoying. The Spring Festival travel rush is over, and there are still so many people." She looks at the crowded people in the carriage, while those people are eagerly looking at the people sitting in the seats, hoping that someone among them will get off at the next stop. And my gaze falls on the two people diagonally in front of me.

It's a man and a woman. The woman is sitting by the window, and the man is sitting next to her, resting his head on the table. The woman is very young, like a college student, with an anxious expression on her face. She occasionally lightly pushes the man next to her, and every time he's pushed away a bit, he stubbornly sticks back. I notice that the man's shoulder is moving slightly.

Heh heh. I chuckle softly.

The girl blushes and hides inward, looking around. Perhaps some of the surrounding passengers have already noticed the man's actions, but no one responds to the girl's gaze. Everyone remains silent, as if keeping a tacit secret.

The man's actions become more and more intense, and tears start to well up in the girl's eyes.

I stand up and walk to the man's side. Immediately, someone sits in my seat and lets out a relieved sigh.

Hey, I pat the man's shoulder and say, "Change seats." I point to my seat.

The man looks up, his face in a disheveled state, "What?!"

I say, "Change seats." I look calmly at him.

The man's expression quickly changes from disheveled to fierce, "Mind your own business!" En·Jing^'s^Book·Room w w w...EnJ i ng...c O m ...

"Change seats," I look into his eyes and say.

The man stares at me dumbfounded, while the people around also look at me. I smile at him.

He awkwardly averts his gaze, "Where?"

I point backward.

He stands up, and I notice he is slightly taller than me, probably around 180 cm. I throw my bag on the table and sit down.

The people around also start to move, as if they have all let out a sigh