In the lavish private room of The Ritz-Carlton Hotel, a group of well-dressed men and women clinked glasses, their faces flushed from drinking.
"Mr. Austin, I hope you will take care of the business from now on."
"Mr. Austin, let me toast to you once more."
"Mr. Austin, may your wealth multiply and your career soar to new heights."
...
The main character at the banquet was Austin, and the people attending the dinner were intentionally or unintentionally surrounding him, either to toast or flatter him.
"I wonder which lucky woman will get to marry a man like Mr. Austin." A woman, her face red from alcohol, raised her glass and said coquettishly.
At thirty-six years old, Austin was at the peak of a man's energy, experience, and ability. His social status gave him a relaxed attitude, and his eloquence attracted the attention of many women.
"This lady probably doesn't know, but Mr. Austin is still unmarried. He's truly a diamond bachelor." Someone chimed in.
"That must be because Mr. Austin has high standards and doesn't fancy women like us."
The woman smiled softly and then handed over a business card, her gaze lingering with a hint of charm as she said, "Mr. Austin, while you're making a fortune in business, you must also find a balance between family and career."
Austin politely accepted the business card, but at the moment their hands touched, he felt a tingling sensation in his palm. The lady had lightly traced her index finger across his hand, her eyes full of meaning.
Austin smiled in a gentlemanly way, remaining composed as he sat down.
After the banquet, most of the guests were drunk, and the beautiful woman who had handed Austin her business card kept glancing back at him reluctantly as she left.
Austin understood and made a gesture of making a phone call, which made her smile in return.
An assistant walked over and said, "Mr. Austin, let me take you home."
"No need," Austin waved his hand. "I just bought a new apartment across the street. Just drop me off there, it's only about 200 meters away."
After the assistant left, Austin slowly got into the car, leaned back against the leather seat of the Maybach, and let out a deep sigh of exhaustion.
After every social gathering, in addition to the alcohol in his stomach, he always felt inexplicably depressed, even a sense of emptiness he couldn't explain.
In this world of social games, you are often not the one calling the shots.
"Haah…"
Austin exhaled heavily. If happiness were to be measured by money, then by all standards, he was already happier than most. He really shouldn't complain.
He turned on the car stereo, buckled his seatbelt, and was about to start the engine when suddenly he felt something hard in his pocket. It was the business card from the beautiful woman.
"Elizabeth, nice name,"
he muttered with a smile, then flicked the card. The exquisite card arced through the air and landed on the ground, only to be ruthlessly crushed by the tires.
In the adult world of fame and fortune, there is always a lot of acting involved—whoever takes it seriously is the fool.
As the car sped along, the melody of "Leaving Home 500 Miles" drifted from the speakers.
If you miss the train I'm on,
You will know that I am gone,
You can hear the whistle blow,
A hundred miles...
...
The lyrics were far from reflecting Austin's current life, but the song's sentiment deeply resonated with him. The frequent use of numbers and repetition expressed the hardship of life's journey.
Throughout history, whether rich or poor, those who leave their hometowns in search of a better life all share the same sorrow of separation, which is never easily erased.
"I haven't visited my parents for a long time. Maybe I should go see them tonight."
Austin thought to himself. Under the influence of the aftereffects of wine, he subconsciously turned the steering wheel.
Suddenly, a blinding white light flashed from the side, followed by a loud crash. Austin lost consciousness immediately.
...
"Austin, wake up, the bus is about to stop."
Austin groggily woke up to a voice calling out to him. When he opened his eyes, the bright sunlight stung his alcohol-fogged head.
"Damn, I shouldn't have drunk so much last night."
Austin furrowed his brows and cursed.
"Yesterday was the last class reunion before graduation. We all drank a lot. Plus, you were heartbroken, so drinking too much isn't that surprising."
The one speaking was a 17-year-old boy, slightly chubby and with dark skin. He grinned and continued, "I told you not to confess to Nola, but you insisted on doing it after the exams. So, what happened?"
"There are so many people who like her, and you're just a fool who got rejected."
The chubby boy said with schadenfreude. When he saw Austin staring at him, he was a little annoyed. "What, you're mad at me just for talking bad about Nola?"
"We grew up together, and you've only been classmates with her for a few years. I suggest you just treat last night as a memory and let it fade away."
Looking at the boy who was about to continue babbling, Austin couldn't help but interrupt. "Who are you?"
"Who am I!?"
The boy's face first showed surprise, then anger. After the bus arrived at the station, he grabbed Austin, who was still unsteady, and pulled him off the bus, shouting, "You've forgotten who I am? I'm your good buddy, Almon! How could you forget your own name is Austin?"
"Almon?"
Austin did have a good friend named Almon, but he wasn't currently in the country.
"Isn't Almon in Iraq?"
"Damn you, Austin. Iraq's a mess right now. Are you wishing for me to die early?"
This time, Austin didn't respond. He was staring blankly at the reflection in the glass at the bus stop. The reflection was of a young man, familiar yet unfamiliar, with a slight stubble on his face.
The sky was blue and clear, the road was still made of dirt, and the dust in the air could be seen clearly in the sunlight. The local barber shop blared loud music from its speakers.
"Caught up in the touch,
Slow and steady rush,
Baby, isn't that the way love's supposed to be..."
Combining the scene in front of him with the song playing in the streets, Austin suddenly felt dizzy. This cliché moment was now happening to him. His stomach churned, and he couldn't help but step aside and vomit.
Almon didn't mind, walking over to pat him on the back and comforting him. "Once you finish throwing up, you'll feel better."
After he emptied his stomach, Austin started to come to his senses. Almon's current appearance finally began to overlap with the memory of his old friend.
"Where are we going now?" Austin asked with difficulty.
"To school to get our admission letters."
By now, Almon wasn't surprised anymore. He just took his friend's odd behavior as a result of the failed confession from the night before.
When Austin heard this, he remembered that he and Almon had gone to school together to get their admission letters. Austin had gotten into a second-tier university, while Almon had gotten into a top-tier one.
But this wasn't 2024. It was 2007.
...