Xiajun peered over his sunglasses as he changed lanes, his car gliding smoothly over the familiar Guangzhou roads. His car beeped, showing a low gas level on the dashboard. Slowly, he pulled into a gas station, parking his car next to a pump. A worker nodded in greeting and got to work, inserting a dispenser into the car.
Meanwhile, Xiajun stepped out for a little fresh air. He noticed a small snack shop next to the gas station so he decided to check it out. It was a small shop with a neon sign overhead displaying the shop's cheesy name. When we entered through the door, a small bell rang over his head as if to announce his arrival, something he had only seen happening in salons.
Idly, Xiajun walked around, looking at the aisles of snacks and freezers full of ice creams and drinks that didn't seem at all appealing. Music blared around him from hidden speakers, playing an old instrumental. But there was something else, too. The sound of a television.
