Zhang Shengshi has been behind the wheel of a taxi for fifteen years, and every artery of the city is etched into his mind. From the steam rising from breakfast stalls at four in the morning to the neon lights of bars at two after midnight, his back seat has carried all sorts of people. A student clutching a backpack and crying on the way to catch a train, an office worker sighing at a phone screen after working late, a married couple locked in a cold war after an argument, and an elderly person returning home, shakily fumbling for crumpled bills. He rarely speaks. He simply turns the wheel in silence and takes his passengers to their destinations. But the joys and sorrows of the city have long since seeped into his life, quietly following the turning of the wheels. He has seen the brightest smiles and heard the most stifled sobs. The steering wheel guides more than just a car: it holds the stories of countless people, while his own story slowly unfolds through these daily journeys.
