Serana hadn't slept well. In the middle of the night, she was woken by a commotion. A Woman and a man were arguing outside the house, their chaotic words like a fierce storm. She didn't understand them to begin with, so she simply didn't listen. However, even if she didn't listen or pay attention, she couldn't fall back asleep.
She was thinking about how to wake Simon, musing: Dreams and memories must have limitations. As long as she did something out of the ordinary, the dream would collapse. After all, things that hadn't happened always required more attention to process. If she accumulated enough of these, slowly, Simon would awaken due to his active mind.
Seeing such a potentially viable path, Serana's mood improved significantly. She immediately got out of bed, jumped out the window, and wandered through the city outskirts at night.
After a while, as dawn approached, Serana looked back and saw cooking smoke rising from the direction of the house. So, she stealthily returned to the bedroom, picked up the deer head, went downstairs to the kitchen, and leaned against the doorframe. From this angle, she could see the Woman's back as she busied herself at the stove, and her aging. However, 'aging' wasn't quite the right word to describe her state; she was merely dejected. That robust body, which once allowed her to outrun even a Vampire on a bicycle, was no longer so energetic.
The firelight illuminated the fine wrinkles on her face; her skin was loose and oily, like a white tarpaulin covering a pile of firewood. Just looking at her skin, one couldn't help but feel sorrow. Fortunately, when the Woman turned her head, Serana saw that her eyes were bright. Far from being sorrowful, she had a comfortable sense of relief.
Serana thought, this ending isn't bad. Men change their hearts, women are heartless; it's always been this way.
The black iron gate was knocked upon, a loud 'dang, dang, dang' sound. The Woman frowned, turned off the stove fire, and hurried to open the door.
Serana thought it was that man again and followed her out. However, when the door opened, another man appeared, dressed in gray work clothes. He smiled in a simple and kind way, but the Woman's expression truly became sorrowful. She shook her head, trying to close the door. The man in gray tried to block her, and they struggled against each other using the door, communicating silently with their eyes.
The Woman used a lot of strength, sweat trickling down her forehead. The man in gray was panting like an ox. He only held the door, not actually pushing with force, but his posture was like a boatman struggling against a river current, his calves trembling, face taut, eyes wide and moist.
The Woman shook her head repeatedly and finally managed to close the door. The latch clicked shut with a 'kata' sound. She leaned against the door panel as if exhausted, her back rising and falling. When she turned around, her expression was normal again. She waved at Serana and said, "Go serve the food."
Serana walked towards the kitchen, holding the deer head, confused about the relationship between those two. She realized she still hadn't grasped the truth of marriage; at least, she couldn't guess who the man who had just knocked on the door was.
It was a silent and awkward meal. The Woman kept her head down. Serana tried once more to feed the deer head something, but it still didn't react.
After the meal, the Woman handed Serana two coins and told her to take the Route 19 bus to school, repeatedly emphasizing that she should study hard. Finally, she said, "Don't come back, go find your father."
Serana didn't understand. As usual, she tucked the deer head into her bag, went out, and walked along the road. She saw the man in gray loitering at an alley entrance. He also saw Serana and gave her a gentle, earnest smile. For some reason, Serana was a little scared of that expression. She frowned, didn't return the greeting, and jogged a few steps out of the alley.
After walking along the road for a while, Serana saw some large vehicles stopping by the roadside to let passengers on and off. She knew these must be public transport, so she naturally got on a bus.
Sitting by a window, the world outside was separated by a transparent barrier, like looking at a painting. Distant mountains, fields, roads, pedestrians, buildings, utility poles—one by one, they came closer from afar, then moved away again. The closer something was to the horizon, the longer it stayed in her sight. That's how it was: things close to her passed by in an instant.
Strange thoughts always arose in Serana's mind. She had never thought so much, but now she couldn't help but fall into a semi-conscious contemplation. Things about mathematics, philosophy, and social life, like dregs in a wine vat, floated and sank with the swirling liquid, dissolving form in the pungent aroma.
She suddenly snapped awake. The bus had reached a station, but it wasn't the school. This was a train station. Her mind wasn't entirely clear yet; she just followed the crowd getting off, very passively. She looked around. The building was very large but not very tall, like an ant's nest in a forest, a flat mound protruding from the ground, with countless ants going in and out.
So many people, so many sounds. Here, one would feel lost. Serana was visiting such a place for the first time. She squeezed out of the crowd, and eight or nine vibrant young men and women, fashionably dressed, approached her. They greeted Serana and brought her along, standing in line behind them at the ticket gate.
Serana deliberately left this group of young people and went to stand behind another line. She saw that the people in front of her were all holding a red paper ticket, so she rummaged through her belongings and finally found an old leather wallet in a hidden compartment of her backpack. Inside were some business cards, some folded cash, the red train ticket she was looking for, and a family photo—though the parts with her father and mother were torn, only Simon and two elderly people remained.
Serana was momentarily confused, but the middle-aged ticket inspector was not. He snatched the ticket from her hand, punched a hole in it with a clip, and handed it back to her.
If life's journey is too unfamiliar, it inevitably carries a hint of sorrow. Embarking on a completely new path, leaving behind old acquaintances, Serana felt a little sad. She gently caressed her backpack; the deer head was still there, its antlers' outline visible from the outside.
When she boarded the green-skinned train, the whole process felt very natural. She wasn't anxious, she just took the deer head out of her bag again and placed it on the small table. Outside the window, someone suddenly shouted Simon's name. Serana was startled and quickly leaned her head out the window. The Woman was standing on the platform. Her clothes were increasingly simple, increasingly old-fashioned. In her hand, she held a red canvas bag with Mickey Mouse printed on it. Serana reached out to take it; it was heavy and weighed down her hand.
The Woman seemed to want to say something else, but the train slowly started moving. Serana leaned half her body out the window. The Woman chased for two steps, then stopped, just waving vigorously, signaling Serana to pull back in. The Woman's face was becoming more and more decayed; her dry, yellow skin, like tarpaulin, clung tightly to her muscles, no longer oily. Why? Serana couldn't guess, she just stared blankly for a while at the Woman's expression, which was both pained and joyful.
She took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, finally returning to the carriage. A very close utility pole whizzed past the window; a moment later, her head would have been sliced off.
Serana felt no fear; she simply continued to observe everything around her with curious eyes.
Railways and roads give different feelings. Roads feel freer, railways more constrained. Looking at the two closely spaced steel rails on the sleepers, the train wheels pressed upon them. Several tracks intertwined, complex like a tangled fishing net.
It was daytime, but some people already looked tired. One carriage, a myriad of human conditions, but generally, during the day, people were more active—smoking, playing cards, singing in unison, eating various foods.
Serana opened the canvas bag. Inside were clothes and food, especially a bag of six tea eggs, still warm. She ate three in one go; they were full of flavor.
By night, most of the people, exhausted to death, would be sleeping in various contorted positions, some even lying on the dirty floor.
Serana wasn't sleepy. She gazed at the dark wilderness outside the window. The train rushing through the night was like a boat sailing on the sea, moving from one isolated island of lights to the next. The train itself left Serana with the impression of a giant creature's intestines; the air was murky like evaporating stomach acid, slowly moving through the night like a centipede, and the people lying haphazardly, like stones, rubble, roots, and dirt waiting to be digested.
A day and a night, plus a few hours, and the destination was reached.
Simon's university days.
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