Chapter 2: Street Stalls

                        

Cheng Yun checked into a fast hotel, showered, and lay down for a while. When she opened her eyes, it was already past ten. Hungry, she stepped out with her bag, intending to buy clothes but drawn instead toward the food stalls near Guiyang Station.

She realized she hadn’t eaten since boarding the train at noon—only a bottle of Nongfu Spring. Now, every aroma felt irresistible.

The street stalls were buzzing. Under each tent, casseroles, wontons, rice noodles, and pork salads steamed in the night air. Cheng Yun paused before one stall, watching the light glint off a casserole, tomatoes glowing brighter than usual.

The stall owner, an aunt in her fifties, asked several times but Cheng Yun didn’t respond, lost in thought. She remembered Li Yunchong—how he would wrinkle his nose at such food. In the past, he occasionally indulged her cravings for skewers, but now he was obsessed with health, porridge at dawn, strict routines.

Finally, the aunt said, “Casserole, delicious, twenty-five.”

Cheng Yun nodded. “One, please.”

Inside the shed, most tables were full. She sat opposite a lone man. The place was noisy, timeless, like the train station itself. She leaned on her elbow, trying to sort out company affairs, but the man’s vigorous slurping interrupted her thoughts.

Lighting a cigarette, she turned. His face was nearly buried in the bowl. “Don’t choke,” she said.

He raised his eyes, uncertain if she meant him. Cheng Yun clarified: “I said, eat slowly. Don’t choke.”

He straightened, wiped his mouth. “It’s okay.” His voice was low but confident.

She studied him. He drained the soup in one gulp, Adam’s apple bobbing. Suddenly she remembered. “Aren’t you the potato seller from earlier?”

He set the bowl down. “You didn’t buy my potatoes either.”

“…So you recognized me too.” Cheng Yun laughed. “You sell potatoes, yet you’re here eating.”

“That wasn’t my stall. I was helping a friend.”

“And he didn’t even give you a potato?”

“He treated me to this.”

Cheng Yun glanced at the empty bowl, amused.

The man paid and prepared to leave. Cheng Yun stopped him. “Wait. Are you full?”

“What?”

“Are you full? I’ll treat you to something else.”

He frowned, puzzled. Cheng Yun smiled. “I’m a foreigner, just arrived in Guiyang. Let’s talk. I ordered salad too, can’t finish alone.”

The aunt interjected, “You didn’t order.”

“…Then I’ll order now.”

The man sat back down.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Something fun in Guiyang.”

“No.”

“…No?”

“Mm.”

Soon the dishes arrived. He ate quickly. Cheng Yun pressed, “No attractions? Nothing beautiful?”

“No.”

She sneered. “So you’re just eating my food for free?”

He looked at her with clear black-and-white eyes. “Really not. Guizhou has many fun places, but not Guiyang. If you want fresh air, go to Huaxi Park.”

“Park?” “Mm.” “Far?” “Not far.”

He finished both plates. Cheng Yun’s patience wore thin; she focused on her meal. Afterward, she paid. He said softly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Back at the hotel, her phone rang. Li Yunchong. “I just came back. You’re right on time.” “Of course. Where did you get off?” “Guiyang.” “How’s the weather?” “Okay.” “Send me your hotel address. I’ll arrange someone to take you out tomorrow.” “No, I’ll walk around myself.” “Don’t tire yourself. Send it. I’ll find someone reliable.”

She hesitated, then agreed. Later, she sat by the window, gazing at the brightly lit station, lost in thought.

Morning came. Cheng Yun stepped out of her room and was startled—someone waited at the door.

“Good leader.”

“…?”

The man introduced himself. “I’m Liu Jie, department manager of Pingtai Insurance Guiyang Branch. I heard you arrived, so I came quickly.”

“Oh.” Cheng Yun smiled. “You’ve worked hard.”

“Not at all. It’s our duty to host you. If arrangements seem rushed, forgive us.”

“You’re kind. I prefer to relax alone. Just find me a reliable travel agency, a car, and a guide.”

“No need to charter—we have a car. As for a guide…” He thought. “Let’s eat breakfast first.”

Afterward, Liu Jie took her to a travel agency. Inside, he introduced Tour Guide Zhang, a young woman with bright eyes and dimples.

“Hello, leader,” Zhang said warmly.

Cheng Yun nodded.

They began discussing itineraries, but Cheng Yun’s attention shifted. Outside, men unloaded goods from vans. She smiled strangely.

“I said, why are potato sellers everywhere?”

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