Chapter 16: On the Train

Early the next morning, Wu Hao set out with Lin Qinglan and Lin Zheng on their journey back to Guangdong Province.

Not long after they left, Yao Yanfang also arrived at the military family compound, bringing her mother, Old Lady Yao.

Yao Yanfang tried to open the house door with her old key, only to find that it no longer fit the lock.

“Fang’er, did they change the lock? Could those two little brats have gone back to their hometown?”

“Impossible. They’ve never traveled far alone. They probably don’t even know where the train station is.”

Yao Yanfang couldn’t believe the kids would dare take such a bold step. From the northeast to Guangdong was practically half the country—how could they have the courage?

“Couldn’t they have asked for help from the army leaders? Let’s just go back. Stop thinking about the money in their hands,”
Old Lady Yao looked at her daughter like she was a fool. Almost forty years old and still so brainless.

“Why should I? They took so much money from me—I’m going to the train station to get it back!”

“Have you lost your mind? By the time you get there, they’ll be long gone. Are you going to chase them back to Guangdong? And do you really think they’ll hand over the money if you find them?”

Old Lady Yao had given up on her foolish daughter. She couldn’t even handle two kids—what else could she possibly do?

“But I just can’t accept it. All that money gone, just like that.”

“So what if you can’t accept it? Are you really going to go to Guangdong and demand money from them?”

Old Lady Yao wasn’t as naive. Linjiawan was the Lin family’s territory. Even if they chased them all the way there, they wouldn’t get a dime—just a wasted trip.
Better to use that time to find a good match for her daughter while she still looked decent. If they waited too long and her daughter’s face aged from hardship, she’d lose value.

What Yao Yanfang didn’t know was that the “loving mother” by her side was already planning to sell her off again.

Right now, her mind was filled with only one thing—money. Her children’s safety and well-being were nothing compared to it.

Meanwhile, Aunt Peng, their neighbor, had been secretly observing them from next door.
Only when she saw them leave the compound did she finally feel at ease.

At first, she was worried Yao Yanfang would try to break into the house and was about to go to the logistics department for help.
After all, Lin Qinglan had already returned the house to the army. It no longer belonged to Yao Yanfang.

She hadn’t expected Yao Yanfang to be so obedient—seeing the lock changed, she gave up entering entirely.

Aunt Peng’s family lived in a house that shared a wall with Lin Jianshe’s. Over the years, they had maintained a good relationship, and Aunt Peng had watched Lin Qinglan and Chuizi grow up.
She had never had a good impression of Yao Yanfang, and after everything that had happened recently, she looked down on her even more.

Lin Jianshe had treated Yao Yanfang so well. Now that he’d only been gone a little over a week, she already wanted to ditch the kids and take the money back to her own family.

Qinglan was such a sensible child, and yet she had been driven to attempt suicide. What was that woman thinking?
She had offended both her children. Did she plan on not having anyone to care for her in old age?

Thankfully, Qinglan and the others had left early this morning. Otherwise, they might have run into each other—and who knows what could’ve happened.

By the time Lin Qinglan and Lin Zheng arrived at the train station, they had long forgotten about Yao Yanfang.
Soon after arriving, it was time to board the train.

It was Lin Qinglan’s first time on such an old-fashioned train.
In her previous life, before the apocalypse, their country had already developed sky trains capable of traveling over 2,000 kilometers per hour.

This green-skinned train they were on now, though? It barely moved at a few dozen kilometers an hour.

Getting on was a struggle—crowds shoved and pushed everywhere.
Thankfully, they had sleeper tickets. If they had only seat tickets, they might not have been able to board at all.
They were riding in hard sleeper class—not as nice as soft sleepers, but far better than seats.

Once they found their bunks and settled in, Lin Qinglan finally had the strength to speak.
She was sweating all over, and her ponytail, tied up that morning, had been completely messed up by the crowd.

“Don’t people need introduction letters to travel nowadays? Why’s the train still so crowded?”

“We must’ve run into a batch of educated youth being sent to the countryside. It’s not always this packed,”
Wu Hao had taken trains on missions many times—he was used to the crowds.

“Thank goodness our superior pulled strings for us to get sleeper tickets. I wouldn’t have survived sitting that long.
Lin Zheng, you’re the smallest—go sleep in the top bunk.”

Each section in the hard sleeper car had six bunks. They had one each: bottom, middle, and top.
Since Lin Zheng was still a child, it was safest for him to sleep in the top bunk.
There were too many traffickers on trains—she only had one little brother, and she couldn’t afford to lose him.

“Then I’ll take the bottom bunk. I’ll keep watch over the luggage,”
Wu Hao moved all the bags to his bunk and planned to rest beside them.

“Alright. But we can take turns keeping watch—you don’t need to do it alone.”

Lin Qinglan had been worried the people in their carriage would be difficult,
but no new passengers boarded after they reached the capital.

They arrived in the capital at 10 a.m.
The next train to Yangcheng wouldn’t leave until 6 p.m., so they had half a day to explore.

As soon as they arrived, Lin Qinglan thought of Peking duck.
She’d had it in her previous life, though it had been somewhat underwhelming.

Now, she wanted to see how this era’s version tasted—and bring some back for her bestie.
It was her best friend’s favorite food, though unfortunately there wasn’t enough time today to stock up and stash a few in her space.

She hailed a tricycle outside the station and headed straight to Quanjude, said to be the best place for roast duck in the capital.

“Big Sis, this duck is amazing! Can we buy some for the train ride? The train food is awful. I want something better!”
Lin Zheng spoke while chewing, his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk.

“Stop pretending it’s about the food. I actually think the train meals are fine,”
Lin Qinglan replied casually.
She had eaten raw flour in her past life, so the food on this train felt luxurious in comparison.
Only someone like Lin Zheng, who had never suffered, would complain about it.

“Lin Zheng, you’ve never experienced real hardship. Ten years ago, people were so hungry they ate tree roots.
When your dad and I were on missions, we even ate raw rats,”
Wu Hao said seriously.
He wasn’t trying to scare the kid—they had truly eaten raw rats and bugs.
When starvation strikes, nothing is off-limits.