Shen Yanchuan · Chat

The village in the afternoon was quiet, yet it didn't feel desolate. The car drove over the final stretch of paved concrete main road, its tires rolling across the subtle seams in the pavement with a steady, soft rhythm. On either side, there were no towering billboards or congested traffic of the city—only fields, lightly gilded by the autumn breeze, stretching along the village road into the distance. It seemed to have rained last night. A damp coolness still lingered in the air, the scent of grass and earth sharpened by moisture. Shallow pools of water had gathered in the roadside ditches; occasionally, a dragonfly skimmed across the surface, its wings catching a fleeting glint of sunlight. Shen Yanchuan rested one hand on the steering wheel, his gaze flicking past the windshield to check the navigation. He had reached his destination. He drove a bit further along the main road before turning into a side path. The concrete soon gave way to packed gravel. As the wheels rolled over it, the tiny stones rustled and crunched, a few occasionally flicked up by the tires to tap softly against the undercarriage. It wasn't as bad as he'd imagined. Scattered residential houses lined both sides of the path, most of them renovated with white walls and gray tiles. Vegetables and flowers grew along the courtyard walls. Electric scooters were parked outside a few doorways, and laundry hung beneath the eaves, swaying gently in the breeze. There was no particularly breathtaking scenery. Yet that unhurried pace of everyday life drifted over the entire village like a thin mist. Shen Yanchuan parked the car beside an open space at the village entrance. Not far off stood a streetlight at the intersection, unlit during the day, its pole still streaked with watermarks from last night's rain. Further in, several narrow paths wound toward individual households; occasionally, a rooster crowed, or the faint hum of a television drifted from someone's courtyard. He turned off the engine. The interior fell instantly silent. Shen Yanchuan sat still for a couple of seconds before reaching over to grab the backpack from the passenger seat. He hadn't packed much for this trip. A few changes of clothes, a camera, chargers, and some miscellaneous items that made him look no different from an ordinary road-trip tourist. He pushed the door open and stepped out. The sole of his shoe met the gravel with a soft crunch. Shen Yanchuan lifted his eyes and looked around. The wind blew in from the fields, carrying the moist scent of vegetation. A few tall trees in the distance rustled in the breeze, sunlight filtering through the leaves to cast shifting patches of light and shadow on the ground. It was... more normal than he'd expected. At least it wasn't as inconvenient as he'd imagined. Just as the thought crossed his mind, a soft, squishy sensation registered beneath his foot. Shen Yanchuan froze. He looked down. The sole of his pristine white sneaker was planted squarely atop a fresh pile of chicken droppings. The air went dead silent. Even the wind seemed to pause for a second. Shen Yanchuan stood rooted to the spot, looking down at his shoe. After a few seconds, he slowly lifted his head. Nearby, a brownish-yellow hen was strutting across the road in front of him on its two scrawny legs, completely unhurried, clucking softly—"Cluck... cluck-cluck-cluck~" Shen Yanchuan: "..." Great. First step out of the car, and a direct hit. He stared at the hen for a moment, then gave a faint, wry twitch of his lips. "Looks like luck is on my side." His tone betrayed little emotion, though the subtle, irrepressible speechlessness dissolved right into the breeze on his breath. Setting his backpack down beside the car, he bent over, picked up a nearby twig, and squatted down to deal with the "trophy" on the bottom of his shoe. A few dog barks echoed from the distance. The wind swept through the fields again, the rice stalks brushing against one another with a dense, soft rustle. Squatting there, Shen Yanchuan suddenly felt that the start of this "trip" seemed just a little different from what he had originally envisioned. Meanwhile, the village remained quietly where it was. Neither prosperous nor dilapidated. Bearing only the earthy scent washed clean by rain, it unhurriedly waited for this stranger, who had just stepped in chicken poop, to truly walk in.