Chapter 004: “Have I Arrived in a Wonderland?”

A rush of blood surged to Xiaomei’s head, making her face flush and neck bulge with anger.

She stormed out of the yard, not even bothering to close the gate, and headed straight to Jinhua’s house.

No one was home at Jinhua’s, and there was no sign of Jinhua either.

Xiaomei searched around the yard and quickly found four rose bushes between two firewood stacks.

Driven by fury, she yanked out the four rose bushes and left.

She didn’t feel the pain from the thorns piercing her hands and didn’t even notice the blood dripping from the cuts.

Xiaomei walked into her kitchen and tossed the four rose bushes onto the firewood pile—might as well use them for cooking! No one should grow roses anymore!

In her home, the east room was for her parents, the middle room served as the parlor, the west room was divided in two—with the southern half being the kitchen and the northern half for Xiaomei and her grandmother.

Her grandmother, hearing the noise, called out from the bedroom, “Is that you, Xiaomei? Have your parents come back?”

Xiaomei hurriedly replied, “Not yet, Grandma. No one’s at Grandma’s house.”

Feeling guilty, she picked up the four rose branches again and ran out.

Instinctively, she returned to where the roses had been planted earlier. Two slipped back into the original holes easily. For the other two, she used a twig to dig small holes and managed to replant them with some effort.

Seeing a cracked bowl nearby, she fetched some water from the river and watered each rose.

Suddenly, her mood lifted.

She noticed her finger stinging—looking down, she saw a thorn had pricked her. She pressed her finger on the wound and smiled at the roses.

“One, two, three…” Before she could finish counting, she was sucked into another place.

In front of her was another rose bush—much larger than the one at Grandpa Gu’s house.

Now, Xiaomei found herself crouched beneath it.

“Where is this?” she thought nervously.

She was scared and missed her grandma, dad, mom, and little brother. She even wanted to visit her maternal grandmother.

With tears welling up in her eyes, she looked around.

The rose bush was near a wall, surrounded by trees. No one else was around.

Wiping her tears, she noticed a pavilion up ahead. She’d seen one like this before—when she visited Suzhou’s Zhuozheng Garden with her grandma.

“Could this be Zhuozheng Garden?” she wondered. If so, she might be able to find Aunt Wang Yanqin. Encouraged, Xiaomei stepped out from under the rose bush and looked around.

It was a garden. In front of the pavilion was a zigzag bridge. Xiaomei walked across it and passed through a moon gate, spotting a house where a few elderly people were inside—some playing chess, others singing opera.

But it wasn’t a model opera. She could usually recognize model operas like The Red Lantern, Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy, or even hum a few lines of Spark Amid the Reeds.

No one called out to her. She lowered her head and walked quickly past, eventually leaving the courtyard.

At the garden entrance, she saw a wooden plaque with the words “Suzhou City, Gusu District, Home for Retirees.” She recognized all the characters, though didn’t understand the meaning.

No matter—she could ask her dad later.

Outside the garden, a few bicycles were parked. Some she recognized—the big-frame “28-style”—others she didn’t. Some were smaller and pedal-less. Weird-looking; she wondered how they worked.

The path outside was clean, flanked by tall buildings.

Now that she knew she was in Suzhou, Xiaomei wasn’t so scared. She followed the path eastward, checking the sun’s position as she walked.

The path joined a wider road, and Xiaomei was stunned to see one side of the road lined with parked cars, while more drove past on the other.

She’d seen cars before—once, when she visited Aunt Wang Yanqin’s house with her grandma—but only one or two, and all black. Never this many, in so many colors.

Back then, Grandma warned her to stay far from cars—if hit, it’d be fatal.

So Xiaomei stayed on the pedestrian path, which was higher than the road.

She continued south along with the crowd. At the next intersection, a major east-west road, she saw even more cars—including buses.

But these big buses looked different from the ones she rode before—fewer passengers, and not nearly as packed.

As she walked, Xiaomei examined the storefronts. She could read most of the numbers but didn’t understand the full meaning of the signs.

She glanced back the way she came, mentally noting she’d need to return to the rose bush—somehow, it felt like the way home.

Memorizing the route while observing the city, she walked over 200 meters and reached a traffic light. Following the crowd, she crossed the road and entered another north-south street.

The street was called Yuebang Road—she didn’t recognize the character for “bang,” so she memorized it as “Yue Water Soldier Road.”

Heading south about 50 meters, she reached a bridge. Tired and with a growling stomach, she sat down at the bridgehead to rest.

On the south side of the bridge, the first shop was a bike repair shop, and the second was a boxed meal shop. Xiaomei happened to be sitting right in front of it.

It was lunchtime, and the aroma from the boxed meal shop made her even hungrier.

Unable to resist, Xiaomei stood up and wandered toward the shop.

It was a tiny storefront—no dine-in, just takeout. They sold stir-fried dishes with rice. Customers could buy meal boxes with various meat and vegetable combinations, or just order single dishes.

This neighborhood had lots of residents and a nearby high school and government office. Students often ate out, and this street catered to them. The shop also served nearby residents who didn’t feel like cooking after work.

The shop owner was savvy—she often added a little extra when weighing portions, earning trust and word-of-mouth referrals. Business was decent.

At the moment, students had just left and most residents came in the evening, so the shop wasn’t too crowded.

So far, Xiaomei felt this place was better than Aunt Wang Yanqin’s neighborhood—more stores, taller buildings, more cars. People wore newer clothes, and many women wore pretty skirts.

The only downside: the trees here weren’t as big. Back at Aunt’s, the trees were tall and thick, arching over the road. Here, the trees looked thin and underfed—just like her.

Yes, Xiaomei admitted—she was starving.