Walking between the fields and paths, Zhou Yun felt a different kind of air than in the city, soothing and calm.
That night, they ate at someone else's house.
The fish had just been caught; it was boiled into a big, thick pot, the soup milky white, the aroma overwhelming.
The vegetables had just been picked; after a quick stir-fry, they were still crisp in the mouth.
Zhou Yun hadn't been to the countryside for years.
The countryside had long since changed; it was no longer that remote and underdeveloped place she remembered.
Zhou Yun drank two bowls of fish soup; the heat brought beads of sweat to the tip of her nose.
This dinner was cooked by the owner of the house.
After they finished eating, the group drove back.
At night the mountain road was pitch-black; the streetlights could only illuminate a small patch of ground.
In the distance, the mountain silhouettes were reduced to a vague outline.
Now and then, scattered lights dotted the darkness.
