Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

The roar of motorcycles echoed through the alley. Zhang Dabiao didn't head straight out of the city, but instead turned a corner and rode towards Sesame Alley.

Aunt Mu's house.

When he arrived, Aunt Mu was already waiting at the door, with a large bundle neatly wrapped in blue printed cloth beside her.

"Da Biao, you've finally arrived." Aunt Mu greeted him and handed him the bundle. "These are all for Wan Qing: two new cotton-padded jackets, a pair of cotton-padded shoes, a scarf, and gloves. When you get here, have her try them on as soon as possible. If they don't fit, write to me and I'll make alterations."

Zhang Dabiao took the heavy bundle, his heart warmed: "Aunt Mu, thank you for your trouble. Don't worry, I will take good care of Wanqing."

"What do I have to worry about?" Aunt Mu said, but she held his hand tightly and repeated her words, "It's cold there, and the wind and sand are strong. Tell her to wear more clothes so she doesn't catch a cold. Also, you young people shouldn't just focus on work; you should take care of your health and eat on time..."

As she spoke, her eyes reddened and her voice trembled.

"Da Biao, once you arrive in Yulin and settle in, no matter how busy you are, go to the post office and send me a telegram. Just say 'I'm safe.' Or, you can call the neighborhood committee and have them pass on a message; I'll go pick it up."

"I understand, Aunt Mu." Zhang Dabiao patted the back of her hand, his voice exceptionally gentle. "You don't need to see me off anymore, go back now."

He carefully placed the bundle in the sidecar, hopped on the motorcycle, and started it again.

Aunt Mu stood at the entrance of the alley, watching as the military green motorcycle grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely around the corner. She remained standing there, motionless for a long time.

Leaving Sesame Alley, Zhang Dabiao headed west, straight for the Beijing Railway Station.

In a secluded dead-end alley some distance from the train station, he stopped the car, looked around, and made sure no one was nearby.

The next second, a miraculous scene unfolded.

The sidecar motorcycle piled up like a small mountain, along with the chickens, ducks, geese, and luggage on it, and Zhang Dabiao, vanished without a trace in an instant, as if they had never existed.

Yes, Zhang Dabiao moved all these things into his "little nest." To make room for the motorcycle, Zhang Dabiao emptied out a lot of the living room and even got several large pet cages to house the old hen and the goose.

Erhei was terrified when it first saw this house, but it was filled with Zhang Dabiao's presence, so it quickly became familiar with it and dutifully guarded the geese, hens, and supplies in the living room.

Zhang Dabiao prepared their food and water and then left their "little nest".

How could anyone possibly ride a sidecar motorcycle to Yulin in northern Shaanxi? Their butt would be jostled so badly their testicles would be smashed!

Zhang Dabiao clapped his hands, straightened his military green backpack, walked out of the alley, carrying the letter of introduction, and strode towards the Beijing Railway Station.

He looked up at the large clock hanging high in the waiting hall—it was exactly two o'clock in the afternoon.

There was a long queue in front of the ticket window.

"Comrade, buy a ticket."

"Where to?"

Taiyuan.

"Hard seat, 3.6 yuan."

Zhang Dabiao handed over the money and tickets, and received a cardboard ticket still smelling of ink.

As evening approached, the train clattered and slowly pulled out of the Sijiucheng Station.

Zhang Dabiao leaned back in the hard seat, turning his head to look out the window. The familiar city silhouettes gradually receded from view, eventually being swallowed by the twilight.

The carriage was filled with the smells of sweat, smoke, and various foods.

He took a lunchbox out of his backpack; it was the lunchbox Qin Jingru had prepared for him that morning, and it was still warm.

Inside were steamed buns, cured pork, cured fish, pickled vegetables, sausages, and other snacks—all ready to eat without heating up before heading out. Qin Jingru had prepared several boxes for me. Zhang Dabiao ignored the envious looks from others and began to eat slowly and methodically.

An elderly man in a Zhongshan suit across from him, noticing his unhurried demeanor, curiously struck up a conversation: "Young man, going on a long trip?"

Zhang Dabiao nodded: "Let's go to northern Shaanxi."

Where in northern Shaanxi?

"Yulin".

Upon hearing this, the old man shook his head and clicked his tongue: "Oh dear, that place is quite far! You can't get there by train alone; you'd have to transfer all over the place, what a hassle!"

Zhang Dabiao smiled and said nothing more.

He knew the journey was long and the road ahead was arduous.

But he felt unusually calm, even a little bit of anticipation.

The train swayed rhythmically, like a monotonous lullaby.

Zhang Dabiao leaned against the window and closed his eyes.

In his mind, he saw Mu Wanqing turning back to smile at him in the art studio, Qin Jingru's face with tears streaming down her face, and He Yushui's stubborn yet red eyes... Finally, all the images froze on that composite wedding photo.

In the photo, he and Mu Wanqing stand side by side, smiling brightly.

He took a deep breath and silently recited the mantra.

[Wife, you can't escape!]

Forget Yulin, Shaanxi; even if you're exiled to the Himalayas, I'll still chase you down and bring you back!

At 2 a.m., the train arrived at Taiyuan Station amidst a screeching sound of brakes.

Zhang Dabiao got off the bus with his bag on his back. A gust of cold wind blew into his neck, making him shiver.

The next train to Xi'an wouldn't depart until 6 a.m., so he would have to spend a few hours in the waiting room.

The waiting room was packed late at night, filled with an indescribable, stale smell. Snoring, coughing, and sleep talking filled the air. Zhang Dabiao found a relatively clean corner, put his backpack under his head, curled up on a bench, and closed his eyes to rest.

In his hazy state, he seemed to see Mu Wanqing standing on a vast expanse of yellow earth, wearing a red cotton-padded jacket, smiling and waving vigorously at him.

Just as dawn was breaking, Zhang Dabiao was awakened by an announcement. He rubbed his aching neck and boarded the green train bound for Xi'an.

This journey will take more than ten hours.

The train traveled south along the Tongpu Railway, and the scenery outside the window gradually changed from the foothills of the Taihang Mountains to a vast plain.

As the train rumbled across the Fenglingdu Yellow River Bridge, Zhang Dabiao squeezed himself to the window. The turbid Yellow River surged and churned beneath the bridge, its power immense. He recalled reading somewhere that the Yellow River made a huge "几" (ji) bend here, and Yulin was located at the very top of this bend.

We've already traveled half the distance.

Around 8 p.m., the train finally arrived in the ancient city of Xi'an.

As soon as he got off the bus, a strong smell of smoke hit him. Zhang Dabiao didn't stop. With his letter of introduction, he found a small hotel near the station and stayed there for 50 cents a night.

After settling in, he went out and ordered a large bowl of mutton stew with bread. He broke the bread into small pieces himself and drank two large bowls of piping hot broth. He felt completely comfortable from head to toe.

The innkeeper was a warm-hearted local. When she heard that he was going to Yulin, she specially advised him: "Young man, the wind and sand are very strong when you go north, and the weather is also very dry. You must bring more water, otherwise your lips will crack."

"Thank you so much, ma'am," Zhang Dabiao replied with a smile.

The next morning, he wandered around Xi'an, buying whatever looked special, such as roujiamo (Chinese hamburger), liangpi (cold skin noodles), and zenggao (steamed rice cake). He didn't care whether he could finish it all, since he had his "little nest" as an unlimited storage room, so he treated it as a local specialty for Mu Wanqing.

Foods that spoil easily can be put directly into the refrigerator and then reheated in the microwave when they arrive at their destination; it won't cost much.

As for water?

How could we possibly be short of water?