The ginkgo leaves in September have just begun to turn yellow, and the clock at the provincial capital high-speed rail station points to 4:17 in the afternoon. Lin Jing stood in the crowd and glanced at her watch out of habit. In thirteen minutes, the G36 train bound for Beijing will go through ticket inspection. She pushed up her rimless glasses on the bridge of her nose and moved the five-year-old briefcase in her hand, which was still like new, to her other hand.
As the youngest deputy director of the Municipal Housing and Urban-Rural Development Bureau, she went to Beijing to participate in a special training on urban construction. Thirty-three years old, deputy director level, in the eyes of many people, Lin Jing's life trajectory is perfect. Only she herself knew that the perfection was like a carefully framed picture frame, but inside was a desolation that no one knew existed.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
