The middle-aged man sitting by the window looked at the slowly receding scenery outside.
The lights on the train illuminated his weather-beaten face.
"It's been a long time since I've been back to Bashu. I wonder if the hot pot here still tastes like what I remember," the middle-aged man said softly.
The young man in his early twenties sitting next to him had already become quite friendly with the middle-aged man during the train ride.
After all, sitting next to each other was a kind of fate. The middle-aged man was quite talkative, and they had spent many hours chatting.
Now, hearing this, the young man replied with a smile, "Uncle Zhang, don't think about it too much. We'll be there soon."
"Yeah." The man called Uncle Zhang responded with a somewhat dejected smile, his accent sounding strange to the young man.
But it didn't bother him too much. It was normal for one's accent to change after spending a long time away from home.
