Shengtian, a rainy day.
The pitter-patter rain was not heavy, but felt distinctively cold on the skin, as though reminding one of the approaching winter.
The streets looked bleak and chilly with their rushing pedestrians. Gu Yu was sitting in a taxi. On his left was an enormous backpack, while an elderly driver was babbling in the front.
"Young man, have you just got back from a trip?"
"No, I’m about to leave for one."
"Oh, then you must be heading south. Are you going to Jiao Zhou or Qiong Zhou?"
"Jiang Zhou."
