The summer in Guangdong is not much different from that in Hunan, except that the heat wave arrives earlier and retreats later.
What I dread most every day is standing at that huge crossroads, waiting for the red light, being scrutinized by passing vehicles, and enduring the overly enthusiastic embrace of the scorching sun.
I finally decided to take out my pure white long silk scarf, drape it over myself to cover my exposed arms, and then I thought of veil’s flowing classical white attire.
The walk from my residence to the office takes about ten minutes, and there are always a few times when I miscalculate, missing it by just a few minutes.
Every time I pass by, the security uncles downstairs always greet me, sometimes even calling out to me in Cantonese. The reason is that after living here for several months and receiving countless deliveries (from cooking oil, salt, rice to summer clothes), I’ve become a familiar face.
Out the main gate, to the left, passing several shops, I can go straight ahead or turn left. My choice depends on whether there is shade on the left side; usually, I go straight in the morning and turn left in the afternoon. Whether I turn left or go straight, the crossroads are unavoidable.
Going straight past the crossroads, I reach the grand International Jade City. It doesn’t leave a particularly deep impression, but it’s not a world I know nothing about; I do know it’s a place favored by wealthy merchants.
Ordinary folks just plan to buy a bracelet or a jade pendant for good luck and safety. One day, I casually walked into a shop, pointed at a bracelet, and casually asked the price—it was twelve thousand.
The shrewd shopkeeper quickly took it out and slipped it onto my wrist, saying, “These days, it’s fashionable to wear jade; gold and silver seem tacky. Jade suits your hand perfectly. If you’re serious, I’ll give you a 20% discount, with a full receipt.”
I didn’t smile, busy saying thank you. Of course, I wouldn’t tell her that I had just topped up my natural gas and only had a few dozen yuan left in my bag.
If I continued, and accidentally broke it, I might have had to call someone to bail me out. Better to leave quickly.
Walking along the street, there are ubiquitous rural credit unions, with two within my line of sight.
Further ahead, a beauty salon and a large KTV stand at the corner of the street.
In the early morning, there are few good cars in front of the KTV, but it’s a different scene in the evening.
It turns out, life truly begins at night.
At this street corner, I have two choices again: go straight or turn right.
The road to the right is a new discovery. After some calculations, I found that at a normal pace without dawdling, I can save two minutes.
But turning right has a significant drawback—there are too many shops, like beauties on the roadside beckoning you, tempting you to take a closer look, and before you know it, you’ve spent money on them.
The road straight ahead feels more spirited. Two hundred meters from the corner, there’s a hotel and a KTV facing each other.
Further ahead, there’s a welfare lottery and a sports lottery. On a special day, I bought a ticket from the welfare lottery. I didn’t expect to win, and indeed, I didn’t.
Further ahead are more shops, shops… I had a tablecloth custom-made at that fabric store, a romantic color with lace edges, originally for a promised visit from a girl.
Passing by a bank, turning right, I can see the main gate.
Every time I reach this point and meet a passing colleague, I naturally get a ride.
The honest security uncle knows I’m not a local girl and greets me in not-so-fluent Mandarin. Hehe, actually, I’ve learned a few Cantonese phrases…
Today, I received a good piece of advice: Life is bitter; if you don’t laugh, it becomes even more bitter. I like people who can laugh, and even more, those who face life with a smile. Haha, is that you?