The green-skin trains of the 1990s were a world apart from the high-speed trains of the future. The air alone was enough to make someone feel sick. Not long after sitting down, people around them began smoking, eating breakfast, and even taking off their shoes. The narrow aisle was filled with a choking mix of smells—sweat, feet, smoke—all mingling with the scent of food.

Shu Yan leaned slightly toward the window for a breath of fresher air. Thankfully, the windows could still be opened. If not, she might have actually thrown up.

This time, their destination was Nancheng. Even before deciding to leave Xicheng, Shu Yan had already bought a map of the country and studied it carefully.

She had lived thirty years, but her life experience was relatively limited. After graduating from university, she returned to her hometown. Two years later, she moved back to the city where she had studied and found a job—not one that was particularly challenging, just enough to get by. Her salary wasn’t enough to live comfortably, but not so little that she’d starve. She drifted through life without a real goal.

If she were on her own, it wouldn’t matter where she went. But now, with two children in tow, every decision had to be made with them in mind.

It was no surprise she chose the city where she had gone to university. For one, she was familiar with the area. Though this world was a parallel version of her own, history had only taken a slight detour. The Earth was still the Earth, the country still the same—only the place names were different. The geography hadn’t changed.

There were many minor differences, but the overall direction remained the same. For example, Nancheng was still one of the top-tier cities in the country. Its geographical advantage couldn’t be altered. That said, some internal details might be different—maybe a subway line had been replaced, or perhaps an area slated for demolition in her world was still intact here.

These were just Shu Yan’s guesses. For all she knew, this world might not be much different from her own. Either way, she planned to buy a few old houses in the outskirts. If they ended up being demolished later, she’d get compensation—maybe even a dozen or twenty units in return…

Nancheng real estate! In the future, the prices would be sky-high. She could lie at home and count her money. Just the thought made her giddy.

“Mommy, I need to pee,” little Ye Tianbao whispered.

Maybe the blow from Ye Zhiqiang had been too much—these past few days, the boy had been unusually quiet. When kids were too rowdy, it’s annoying; when they’re too quiet, it’s worrying. Shu Yan finally understood what people meant when they said children were born to repay their parents’ karmic debts.

Given how unsafe things were back then, Shu Yan didn’t feel comfortable leaving Ye Jingjing alone at their seats. She carried Ye Tianbao and took Jingjing with her to the toilet.

“Mommy, the bag?” Ye Jingjing asked, reaching for it.

“No need. Just a few old clothes. Let’s go.” The valuables were sewn into an inner pocket anyway.

They didn’t bring much—just a single backpack with the three of their old clothes. Shu Yan had originally planned to buy new clothes for her daughter, but things kept getting delayed. And now, with the move from Xicheng imminent and traveling alone with two kids, she decided to travel light. They had money—clothes could be bought anywhere. Once they settled in Nancheng, she could take her time to shop.

As for herself, she didn’t plan on buying any clothes for the next six months. First, she would focus on losing weight. Once she was slimmer, she could buy new clothes that actually fit—otherwise, it’d just be a waste.

After Ye Tianbao finished using the toilet, Shu Yan had Ye Jingjing go too—everything was more difficult when traveling with kids, and bathroom breaks were no exception.

Across from Shu Yan sat a middle-aged couple with simple, honest faces, probably around fifty years old. The man was quiet, but the woman was quite chatty.

“Miss, where’s the children’s father? Why isn’t he traveling with you?”

Shu Yan tensed up. A woman traveling alone with two kids was an easy target in the eyes of human traffickers. She had to stay alert. People’s hearts were unpredictable, and caution never hurt.

Maintaining a calm smile, Shu Yan replied, “Their father’s working in Nancheng. He said he missed the kids and asked me to bring them over for a visit.”

“Nancheng, huh? That’s a good place. What does he do? Must be making good money if he can afford to send you all the way there. Traveling back and forth isn’t cheap,” the woman said casually.

“He’s just a laborer, barely scraping by. He didn’t make it home for the New Year, so he missed the kids. They wanted to go too, so I figured we’d make the trip.” Shu Yan gently stroked Ye Tianbao’s head and leaned close to whisper, “Don’t talk.”

Tianbao pressed himself tightly against her chest, while Jingjing clutched the hem of Shu Yan’s shirt. Kids were always sensitive—they could sense the tension in adults.

“You’re right. Everything we do is for the kids,” the woman said with a cheerful smile, looking fondly at the children. “They’re such good-looking little ones, though your daughter’s a bit thin. Here, I made these tea eggs myself. Let them have some.”

Shu Yan’s guard went up even more. She offered a polite smile. “No need, no need,” she said quickly, pushing the eggs back. “We brought our own.” She pulled out a small bag of tea eggs from her pocket and handed two to the couple. “My family packed plenty. I was worried they’d spoil in this heat. Try mine.”

“We’ve got our own too. You should save those for your kids.”

They went back and forth for a bit, and in the shuffle, four tea eggs rolled to the floor.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry. Let me give you a few more,” Shu Yan offered.

“No need. You young folks are always so particular. The shells are still on—it’s fine. Just peel them and eat.” The woman waved it off, picked up the eggs, peeled them, and shared them with her husband.

Maybe they weren’t bad people?
Was she being too cautious?
Still… it’s better to be safe. If anything happened, regret would come too late.

Shu Yan gave an apologetic smile. “My two have had weak stomachs since they were little.”

“That’s something you really need to manage carefully, or they’ll suffer a lot,” the woman said as she finished the tea egg. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of red dates. “We grow these ourselves—too many to eat fresh, so we dried most of them. They’re great for women and children. Very sweet. Have some.”

“We have those too,” Shu Yan replied, her unease deepening. This woman is way too warm.

Just then, a train attendant came by. Shu Yan quickly stood up and asked, “Excuse me, do you have any sleeper berths left?”

She had bought the ticket in a rush and hadn’t managed to get a sleeper. She’d thought she could endure the dozen or so hours in a regular seat—but now she was seriously reconsidering.

“Sorry, I’m not sure,” the attendant said, shaking their head.

“Please, could you help me check? Look at my two kids—they’re not in the best health.” Shu Yan gave Jingjing a gentle nudge. The little girl caught on right away and started coughing, putting on a pitiful expression. “Can we just see if anything’s available? I’ll pay the fare difference.”

Trains often kept a few sleeper berths in reserve—for emergencies or for connections. They were usually hard to get through normal channels. But Shu Yan’s current appearance didn’t look too healthy—pale and weary—and with two thin, sickly-looking kids in tow, it tugged at the attendant’s heartstrings. The attendant brought them to the conductor to explain the situation, and she was able to purchase one sleeper berth.

“Do you think she suspected anything?” the woman across from Shu Yan asked as she watched them leave.

“You came on too strong. A woman traveling alone with two kids is bound to be cautious,” the man replied quietly, clearly annoyed.

“What a pity,” the woman sighed, regret heavy in her voice. “I saw it clearly—some guy drove them to the station in a nice car, wearing a gold chain and a wristwatch. And look at her—just paid for a sleeper without blinking. She’s definitely carrying a lot of cash.”

“And those kids—such good-looking ones. Especially that little boy. All chubby and fair. He’d fetch a high price.”

“Shut up! You want everyone to hear you?” the man snapped, glaring at her. “This trip was a waste.”

They were assigned an upper berth in the sleeper car. The compartment already had three occupants: an elderly man in the lower left bunk, a young man in the lower right, and a young woman in the upper bunk across from theirs.

Shu Yan gave them a polite smile. She hesitated for a moment but decided not to ask about switching beds. It would be troublesome, sure—but next time, she’d remember to buy tickets earlier and avoid the hassle.

She helped her daughter climb up first, then lifted her son into the upper bunk. Once they were settled, Shu Yan finally let out a quiet sigh of relief. Gently patting Ye Tianbao’s back, she leaned toward Ye Jingjing and asked in a whisper, “Are you scared?”

“No,” Jingjing replied, though she clung tightly to Shu Yan’s arm the entire time.

“Don’t be scared. Mommy’s right here.” Shu Yan pulled her into her embrace too. “Remember, when we’re outside, don’t ever take anything from strangers—especially food.”

Seventeen hours later, the train arrived at South Station.

With her backpack on her shoulders, Shu Yan carried Ye Tianbao in her arms and held Ye Jingjing’s hand. Together, they followed the stream of people out of the station. They had finally arrived.

“Comrade, need a hotel?”

“Comrade, looking for a room?”

“Comrade, need a ride?”

“Comrade, where are you headed?”

“Going to Oupu? Just one more seat left. If you’re in, we’re leaving now!”

No sooner had Shu Yan stepped out of the station than she was surrounded by a crowd of people offering just about everything. She didn’t stop for any of them. Keeping her head down, she led the children toward the bus stop.

When she spotted the old, worn bus stop—thankfully still in the same place—it brought her a sense of relief. Good. It hasn’t changed.

There weren’t many routes available. Shu Yan searched for the most familiar one and waited over half an hour for it to arrive. Public transport was still limited—nothing like the future, where buses came every few minutes.

When they finally reached their destination, a faint smile formed on Shu Yan’s lips.

This was the university town she knew best. Before coming to Nancheng, she had already looked up the location of the university—and it matched exactly with the one from her world. She also had a rough memory of how the surrounding buildings had changed over time. For example, just a short walk from the campus was Xuefu Street, a historic neighborhood over a hundred years old that would one day become a major tourist attraction in Nancheng.

And sure enough, because it was a protected area, nothing much had changed.

The small hotel her parents had stayed in when they first brought her to enroll was still there, now reopened for business. She stepped inside with the kids and quickly realized the owner had changed.

Back when Shu Yan had first arrived in this world, she had tried calling her father’s factory, only to hear that the number was out of service—and, as it turned out, the factory didn’t even exist here. So it made sense that the hotel owner wasn’t the same person she remembered. After all, no matter how similar things looked, this wasn’t her original world.

“Hello, looking for a room?” the owner greeted her.

“Yes, I’d like a room. How much per night?” Shu Yan asked, not seeing any price list posted.

“Single or double? Single is five yuan a night, double is eight,” the owner replied with a smile.

“Could I take a look first?” Shu Yan asked.

She followed him upstairs. The rooms were pretty similar, though the double was larger and had a private bathroom. She didn’t hesitate—she chose the double. Once the door closed behind them, Shu Yan let out a long breath of relief.

=^_^=