Zhuo Jun took one look.
The coffin lid was lifted and slid aside, revealing the deceased's ashen face. The burial clothes merged with the darkness, leaving only a small portion of the face visible.
She looked away and turned to leave.
Everyone in the room stared after her in surprise.
Not a single tear? That glance was far too perfunctory.
Zhuo Jun didn't know them, but she didn't want to be watched either. She lowered her head and carefully walked along the cracked concrete road in the countryside. Two thoughts took turns flashing through her mind: Thank goodness I didn't wear high heels; the person in the coffin is my dad now.
At the village entrance was a paved road. She had gotten out of the car here, and the taxi had already left. She had a new problem to think about: How am I going to get out of here?
"How are you getting home?" Zhuo Chen caught up with her.
When they were little, right up until the year they parted, the two had looked very much alike. Now, nobody would guess they were siblings.
"I'll get a ride." Zhuo Jun waved him off. "Go back."
Zhuo Chen peered down the road. His hair was greasy and clumped together at the temples, with dust stuck to it. "There aren't any taxis around here." He looked down at his phone. "I'll find a car to take you."
As soon as he finished speaking, footsteps sounded, and a young man in his early twenties came running over.
Zhuo Chen said, "Damn, that was fast."
The young man brought a minivan, and Zhuo Jun climbed into the passenger seat.
From this angle, she could see the concrete path leading straight to Zhuo Chen's courtyard. She had the feeling that the gaze that had followed her earlier still lingered. She glared back, but there was nothing there. People bustled about, each busy with their own tasks.
Zhuo Chen knocked on the car door. When the window rolled down, he said, "Sis, when... when will you come back?"
Their father had died, and Zhuo Chen had gone to great lengths to contact her. That was how the siblings had seen each other for the first time in ten years.
"Sis. I'm still here..." Separated from her by the window, he lowered his head, looking utterly exhausted and lonely.
Zhuo Jun felt a pang in her chest, but calmly replied, "Once everything's taken care of, get some rest. Call me if you need anything."
On the road back to the village, the minivan bounced along merrily as music filled the cabin: "Can we ever, ever meet again? I've prayed before Buddha for thousands of years..." Suddenly, the driver turned the volume down and answered his phone, respectfully calling out, "Bro!"
"I've dropped her off. You can trust me to handle things, bro."
"She thought Zhuo Chen had asked me to drive her. I didn't explain."
"I'd just bought the ticket when I got a call about some classmates and having dinner or whatever, so I left. That's all there was to it."
The other person hung up.
[The Cold Novel Author's Fifth Book]
Theme: The story of rural children striving to get ahead
