There was no waiting room. After getting through the crowded small iron fence of the ticket inspection entrance, one stepped directly onto the platform. After a few steps, Muslims, both men and women, donned in robes and turbans, rushing for the train were visible everywhere. An agitated, hurried atmosphere hit them face on. Then, when the gray, dusty train steamed into the station, it nearly stunned the entire group.
"This is just a disheveled vagrant!" Lu Fan was dumbfounded. This train reminded her of the rusty green Canned Boxes that lay on the railway tracks in the nostalgic shows from the seventies and eighties.
"What else can you expect in a developing country?" As a flight attendant, Pang Meiqin didn't care much about the condition of the transportation.
