Era: Rise from the Wilderness

Pushing open the door, a scent that was mixed with old paper, cheap tea leaves, and a faint musty smell, and was much cooler than under the scorching sun outside, mixed with the wind stirred by an old ceiling fan, hit me.

The room was small and somewhat dimly lit.

The white walls have long since turned yellow, and there are map-like stains left by rainwater seepage in the corners.

Two old-fashioned dark brown desks stood directly opposite the entrance, their paint peeling off, revealing the dark wood beneath.

The tables face each other, one on each side.

Behind the table at the back sat a man who looked to be around forty years old.

The white shirt, with the cuffs rolled up to the forearms, was slightly yellowed from washing, but was ironed fairly neatly; the bottom was a pair of navy blue polyester trousers with blurred creases.

A pair of black-rimmed square glasses sat on his nose, the lenses thick and reflective.

He was holding an enamel teacup with the words "Advanced Worker" printed in red on it, and in his other hand he was holding a copy of the Bincheng Daily, which was turned to the middle. He was engrossed in reading it and seemed to be silently reading an editorial along with it.

At the table opposite, sat a middle-aged woman in her early forties.

She had short, ear-length hair, pinned behind her ears with black wire hair clips, and wore a floral polyester short-sleeved shirt.

She wasn't reading the newspaper or drinking tea. Instead, she was hunched over the table, holding a red and blue pencil in her hand, slowly and meticulously writing numbers on an open ledger filled with dense grids. Her expression was so focused that it was as if she were drawing some precise blueprint, but her speed was as slow as a slow-motion scene in a movie.

The old-fashioned ceiling fan overhead turned listlessly, its blades covered in dust, emitting a rhythmic, hypnotic "creak-creak" sound.

The dust particles floating in the air slowly tumbled and rose and fell in the beams of light that slanted in from the high window and were divided into several streams by the window frame.

In the early 1990s, the unique atmosphere of many enterprise and institution offices, a mixture of laxity, antiquity, and a certain fixed rhythm, permeated this small room to the fullest.

"Squeak..."

The sound of the door hinge turning was not loud, but it was clear enough.

The man reading the newspaper twitched his ears, looked up, and peered through the top edge of the newspaper from behind his glasses. He saw three people—one adult and two children—standing in the doorway.

The adult looked travel-worn, his gray work shirt soaked through the back, and his forehead glistening with sweat. The boy next to him wore a worn white undershirt, also covered in sweat, but his eyes were bright. The girl, on the other hand, was exquisite, like a porcelain doll.

The man paused slightly, seemingly surprised to see an adult with a teenager here.

But he quickly realized that this was most likely a business opportunity coming his way.

The seriousness and ease he had been absorbed in the editorial vanished instantly, replaced by a warm yet measured smile, like a Sichuan opera face-changing gesture.

He put down the newspaper, carefully moved the enamel teacup next to it, and then stood up.

The chair legs made a soft "screech" as they dragged across the rough cement floor.

"Hello, comrades!"

He walked around the table, quickly took two steps forward, and said in a loud voice with just the right amount of enthusiasm, "Please come in, it must be so hot outside! What can I do for you?"

Li Hongfeng wiped the sweat running down his temples with the back of his hand, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he was a little taken aback by the sudden enthusiasm.

He cleared his throat and got straight to the point, his voice hoarse from thirst and urgency: "Comrade, sorry to bother you."

"Excuse me, do you... wholesale stationery here?"

"You mean the things students use: books, notebooks, pencils, pens, ink... and so on?"

His gaze swept eagerly across the shabby office, as if searching for traces of a warehouse filled with goods, but he saw nothing except for the two desks, a worn-out filing cabinet, and a few empty cardboard boxes piled in the corner.

"Yes, yes, yes! We're in the wholesale business!"

Upon hearing Li Hongfeng's purpose, the man's eyes lit up, and he quickly responded, his voice so loud it seemed to dispel the oppressive atmosphere in the room.

He reached out his hand, his palm slightly damp, and shook hands firmly with Li Hongfeng's rough, sweaty hands, his attitude as warm as if he were meeting an old friend.

"Please come in, please have a seat!"

"It must be tiring in this hot weather, right?"

As he spoke, he stepped aside to let Li Hongfeng and the other two into the room, then turned and raised his voice towards the desk, "Yanlan! Quick, get the three comrades a glass of water! Cool boiled water, to quench their thirst!"

The middle-aged woman, Song Yanlan, who was writing at her desk, seemed to be awakened from some slow-motion dream upon hearing this. She raised her head, her face expressionless, and simply said "Oh" before putting down the red and blue pencils in her hand.

She slowly stood up, picked up a bamboo-cased thermos from the corner of the table, and then grabbed three white ceramic tea mugs with faded red double happiness symbols printed on them. She poured the water from the thermos into the tea mugs; the water was warm, not hot to the touch.

Li Hongfeng and his two companions were truly parched.

In mid-July, the sun was so strong it felt like it was scorching the earth.

The three of them had been busy for a long time and were already hot and thirsty. When they took the tea mugs, they didn't even have time to say "thank you." They tilted their heads back, their Adam's apples bobbing violently, and gulped down most of the water in a few mouthfuls.

A drop of water trickled down the corner of his mouth, but he simply wiped it away with his sleeve.

Even Lü Ruoxi couldn't care less about maintaining a ladylike image.

They were like fish dying of thirst.

Only the life-giving source right before our eyes is everything.

The cool water slid down my parched throat, and the taste was like nectar.

There seems to be nothing in this world more precious than the plain water in front of you.

"Thank you, Auntie!"

After finishing his tea, Li Yunjing held the empty teacup in his hands, a well-behaved yet slightly embarrassed smile on his face.

He was handsome with delicate features, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled, making him very endearing. "It's so hot today. Ruoxi and I, along with my dad, spent over two hours asking around before we finally found this place. Could... could you please pour us another drink?"

"I'm so thirsty."

Song Yanlan's face, which had been expressionless, softened considerably upon seeing Li Yunjing's clean smile and hearing his polite words, and a few fine lines appeared at the corners of her eyes.

"It's alright, it's alright. You must be really thirsty, right?"

"Look how hot the child is."

Her tone was kind and gentle, like that of an elder. As she spoke, she picked up the thermos and refilled the three people's teacups with water.

"Thank you, Auntie!"

Lü Ruoxi, along with Li Yunjing, thanked them again, her voice clear and crisp.

Once the three had calmed down a bit, and the sweat on their foreheads had dried and condensed into tiny salt crystals, the man who called himself the manager finally cleared his throat, a smile on his face that mixed professional enthusiasm with a hint of self-satisfaction, and began to speak:

"Comrades, please introduce yourselves."

"I am Zeng Honglin, the manager of Bincheng Duoyuan Stationery Culture Co., Ltd."

He pointed to Song Yanlan, who was tidying up the thermos, "This is my wife, Song Yanlan, who is also our company's accountant."

"Welcome to our company to discuss business!"

"May I ask your name, comrade?"