We took a train at noon heading to Haicheng. The next afternoon, the train finally arrived at the station. Bamboo and I were swept out of Haicheng Station by the crowd.
It was very hot in Haicheng, probably over thirty degrees. Bamboo was still wearing a jacket and jeans. He rolled up his jeans to feel a bit cooler.
Bamboo held his luggage in his left hand and the unfinished food from the train in his right hand.
He avoided the crowd, feeling a bit dazed, not knowing where to go, looking somewhat slow-witted.
I had never seen so many women on the street with bare arms and legs, feeling a bit embarrassed, not knowing where to direct my gaze to appear decent.
The women passing by didn’t notice us. Occasionally, a few women would glance our way, perhaps thinking that Bamboo’s outfit was not cool enough.
This made me even more embarrassed, but Bamboo paid no attention at all.
No man on the street was dressed like him in a jacket and jeans, let alone with the cuffs rolled up.
It was getting hotter, the street felt like a steamer. Bamboo took off his jacket and rolled it up under his arm. Without the jacket, he looked so thin, as if he could be blown away by the wind. He was too skinny, and seemed less energetic than before, looking somewhat dejected.
Bamboo took out his phone, searching for something. I didn’t want to disturb him; I knew he was anxious. Suddenly, a woman’s voice came from the phone, very sweet, like a doll’s voice, but coming from an adult. It must have been Bamboo activating the voice navigation, looking for our destination.
We followed the navigation prompts, turning left and right, going up overpasses and through underpasses. We twisted and turned, not knowing where we were headed.
We passed through one street after another, arriving at a beautifully maintained riverside. There were many cafes and Western restaurants on both sides of the riverbank, with plenty of tables and chairs provided for tourists under the cafe awnings. If tired, one could stop and rest here, or order a cup of coffee or another drink while enjoying the scenery on both sides of the river. Many tourists were stopping along the riverbanks, posing for photos at the railings.
At this moment, the phone navigation also announced that the name of this river was“Fate River.” I couldn’t help but laugh. What a name!
“Help! Someone jumped into the river…”
A series of desperate shouts echoed along the banks of Fate River, filled with pleading and fear.
Before we could react, we saw many people gathering in the same direction. Bamboo and I followed the crowd.
Not far away, on the iron frame bridge, more and more people were gathering. Some looked panicked, at a loss; others expressed astonishment, indicating that what was happening was unbelievable. Their voices swirled in the air, chirping like sparrows. Bamboo squeezed into the crowd.
“Someone jumped into the river!” someone shouted in the crowd, “Quick, save them…” Everyone was anxious, but no one took action to save the person, only expressing their astonishment.
We looked towards the river, seeing a figure splashing in the water, constantly rising and falling. This scene made my wings feel weak, unable to flap. Before I could react, my friend Bamboo put down what he was holding, quickly took off his clothes, and jumped into the water. In my panic, I flapped my weak wings and followed him. Bamboo swam towards the figure in the water. I flew above him, cheering him on, but couldn’t help feeling a twinge of unease.
Bamboo swam for about several hundred meters, and as he got close to the person in the water, he didn’t swim directly towards them but instead circled around from the side. When he reached behind the person, he gently extended one arm to block the person’s neck, keeping their head above water, then reassured them not to be afraid. Bamboo’s other hand kept paddling, swimming towards the nearest shore. I truly admired my friend Bamboo’s stamina, which was thanks to his daily ten-kilometer mountain running.
At this moment, the voices on the shore were even louder, everyone cheering. The person in the water was a girl, looking quite delicate. After a round of rescue, the girl quickly regained consciousness. Her long, dark hair, soaked in water, looked stunning under the sunlight.
“She hasn’t been in the water long, so there’s not much danger.” Bamboo told the onlookers.
“Bamboo, you’re amazing!” I couldn’t help but praise loudly. Immediately, the crowd surrounded us, many expressing their astonishment. I didn’t know if they were praising Bamboo’s bravery or were surprised by my unexpected words.
Bamboo quickly put his clothes back on, and I landed back on his shoulder. Bamboo hurriedly left the crowd. As we moved away, people instinctively parted to make way for us, their faces showing a complex mix of regret, reluctance, and gratitude.
Bamboo checked the time on his phone and quickened his pace. Thus, on this sweltering afternoon, we walked back and forth in this city, feeling exhausted. I could hardly stand the southern weather; there wasn’t a hint of cool breeze on the street. I complained to Bamboo:
“Aren’t you thirsty? I’m thirsty, I’m really thirsty!” “Hang in there, we’re going to be late, and if we’re late, we won’t make it to the meeting!” Bamboo shouted impatiently.
“You’re talking nonsense. If you were that eager, you wouldn’t have taken the time to save someone.” I said angrily.
Bamboo glanced at me and said:“I’m not trying to prove how kind I am; I’m just doing what I can…” He patted me and continued, “Turning a blind eye to someone in need is indifference, inhuman…”
I retorted:“If you’re in such a hurry, why did you go save someone? Isn’t that wasting time? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in such a rush!” He took a deep breath, shrugged, and glanced at me without saying anything. I also fell silent; the more I said, the more I sounded like a nitpicker.
After a while, he said:“We must hurry; otherwise, we’ll miss the opportunity. If we miss it, we won’t be able to go.” He brushed his hair off his forehead and wiped his sweat. It seemed he was saying, let’s complain less. “Come here.” He waved at me, took out the unfinished water from his pocket, and poured it into the cap for me to drink. After taking a sip, I felt my whole body lighten, as if I had returned to a cool autumn.
Following the navigation, Bamboo almost jogged to our destination. He looked around, and his phone rang. Bamboo found a spot to squat down and answer the call, and I saw him nodding repeatedly.
“Yes, okay…” he replied briefly.
The conversation ended with a series of responses. I saw a hint of disappointment on Bamboo’s face. He slapped his forehead, as if sulking with himself. He pulled his luggage forward with force and stood under the overpass for a long time without saying a word.
I asked:“What happened?”
“We missed it… we were late, and they couldn’t wait any longer.”
I noticed he looked very dejected, his pitiful expression truly evoking sympathy.
“Don’t be so down; sometimes missing something can be a good thing. Maybe we avoided something bad…” I said to Bamboo.
“That makes sense. Alright, your ability to think through problems is better than mine!” Bamboo praised me.
He seemed to be awakened by my words, suddenly regaining his spirit, like a child.
This was my first time in a big city, hurriedly following Bamboo here, without having a chance to soar around. But with the tall buildings and complex roads, I wondered if I would get lost if I flew up for a circle. So I secretly smiled.
As evening approached, the weather gradually cooled down. I saw various cars weaving through the streets, but not a single bird flew overhead. There were indeed many street gardens in the big city, filled with various trees and some unknown flowers blooming, surrounded by towering skyscrapers. There were no endless terraced fields or rising smoke, but I still thought it was a nice scene, and couldn’t help but daydream.
I said to Bamboo:“If we could settle down here and have our own home, that would be great.”
Bamboo replied:“Here? Don’t get your hopes up.”
I turned away, somewhat disdainful, ignoring him. I soared high, looking down at the city. It looked like a giant maze, with crisscrossing streets and buildings, and a river flowing slowly eastward, dividing the city in two.
“Bamboo, what river is that?” I asked.
“Qianpu River!” Bamboo said, “It flows into the East China Sea.”
“So, Bamboo,” I said, “where are we going next?”
Bamboo didn’t say anything, licking his dry lips. After pondering for a moment, he picked up his luggage and left.
I noticed Bamboo had returned to that sense of melancholy and sadness, looking very lost. I felt somewhat at a loss. For some reason, I inexplicably missed the past at this moment.
We walked in silence, the noise of the city seemed to be drifting away from us. I hid behind Bamboo. In the glow of the sunset, I saw his figure looking so lonely. We walked like two lost children in this vast city.