The night I lost my job and my place of residence, the last bus No. 44, Which had been out of service for 18 years, stopped in front of me.
When we got on the bus, there were thirteen people including the driver. The lights were turned off for three seconds at midnight, and when they were turned on again, there were fourteen people in the car. The extra conductor wore an old uniform and checked tickets one by one. He only asked: "Is there anyone waiting for you at your destination?"
The end point is Pingxi Ancient Town, which has disappeared from the map for eighteen years.
In the visitor center, more than a thousand passengers were waiting to return, and only 11 of them were still alive. They all had tickets and said they wanted to go home. But eighteen years have passed, the locks on the doors of those old addresses have long been changed, and people living inside the doors do not know them.
If you let them go, the dead will cover the names and belongings of the living along the old address; if you don't let them go, the entire ancient town will squeeze back into reality.
I also met my mother who had been missing for eighteen years. She was trapped in the ten minutes before the accident, but the first thing she said when they met was: "Chen Chuan, not a single car can be let out."
However, a business license valid from the day I was born recognized me as the new person in charge here.
So, I began to make improvements to scenic spots that were already considered restricted areas: building buses, opening inns, dealing with complaints that had accumulated for 18 years, and finding a place that was still willing to accommodate those who no longer had anyone to wait for them.
But before the next bus leaves, I have to answer a question - where should a homeless person get off when someone else has already moved into his original home?
