During The Blizzard (Amidst A Snowstorm Of Love)

Canto 3: Sunny Day [II]

"After every snowstorm, the sun emerges as nature's resilient artist, painting our world with warmth and hope."

Translator; Wuxia Studio
Editor; J.C Forester

Canto 3: Sunny Day [II]

~~

Yin Guo watched the passing scenery blur into streaks of color as the train sped onward. Not long after the rhythmic rumble lulled Meng Xiaotian to sleep, his face obscured by a crumpled coat, the ticket inspector loomed like a specter, methodically working his way toward their carriage.

With practiced ease, Yin Guo snatched the phone from her cousin's slack grip, the glow of the electronic ticket illuminating his pale cheek. With a curt exchange, a nod, and the phone vanished back into Meng Xiaotian's pocket.

But Yin Guo couldn't settle. She sat bolt upright, eyes glued to her own phone, where Lin Yiyang's reply hung, short and sterile:

'You're welcome'

Four words, an emotional wasteland. No warmth, no explanation, not even a measly emoji. Frustration simmered in her chest. She wasn't Meng Xiaotian, impulsive, and easily appeased. This warranted a face-to-face conversation, one where she could decipher the unspoken subtext hidden within those four hollow words.

As the train lurched to a halt at a deserted station, Yin Guo scanned the sparsely populated platform. The previously bustling carriage had thinned further, with only a handful of passengers remaining. She felt a strange sense of isolation, mirroring the hollowness in Lin Yiyang's message.

Yin Guo nudged her cousin awake. "Bathroom break," she declared, her voice laced with the impatience simmering beneath her skin.

Meng Xiaotian mumbled assent, still groggy from his impromptu nap. She hefted his bag onto her shoulder, it was surprisingly heavy, crammed with who-knows-what beneath his legs, and pushed past him, the train's rhythmic sway amplifying her determined stride.

Within minutes of her departure, an Asian man materialized from the back carriage. The man with glasses, marked with the memory of their earlier encounter, his gaze sweeping the faces like a predator searching for prey. He'd just boarded, following the whispered instructions on his phone. Two carriages, cross them. And there, tucked neatly next to a backpack overflowing with clothes, lay Lin Yiyang's telltale luggage.

****

A jolt as the train stopped sent Lin Yiyang's head snapping towards the window. There, framed against the platform, stood his unwelcome visitor – the man with the steely gaze and the unnerving smirk. His heart hammered against his ribs.

The black woman beside Lin Yiyang, clutching a sleepy child, disembarked, leaving an empty seat mockingly vacant. Wu Wei, a whirlwind of sweat and determination, materialized next to him, shoving him towards the window.

"Lucky I caught up," he wheezed, unbuttoning his coat with frantic haste. "Thought I wouldn't make it."

Lin Yiyang's silence spoke volumes. He knew why Wu Wei was here, and the knowledge sat heavy in his gut.

"Everyone's gonna be there," Wu Wei pressed, urgency lacing his voice. "You're running,  what good will it do?"

Lin Yiyang tugged his collar high, the fabric shrouding most of his face in a futile attempt to escape the conversation. Wu Wei reached for his sleeve, but Lin Yiyang flinched away, his eyelids fluttering shut.

"I took the kids out for drinks," he choked out, voice barely above a whisper. "Wiped out my savings. I couldn't even afford a ticket."

Wu Wei's wallet snapped open, revealing its meager contents. "See this? This is all I got. We share it, brother. Live and die together."