23: Chapter 23 Going Home

The high-speed train traveled smoothly, the scenery outside the window like a rapidly flipping slideshow.

The harvested fields were a vast expanse of earthy yellow, dotted with occasional patches of green vegetable plots.

Chen Youhua sat by the window, the seat next to him empty.

He took off his headphones, and the subtle clamor in the carriage immediately became clear.

The low whimpering of a child in the back row, the blaring of short videos from an uncle diagonally in front, and the friction of wheels against the floor as the attendant pushed a cart past.

He habitually observed his environment.

There weren't many people in this carriage; most were students like him returning home early, or migrant workers with large bundles of luggage.

The air held a mixed scent—disinfectant, instant noodle seasoning packets, and a faint, lingering fragrance of orange peel.

His phone vibrated; it was a message from Xiao Wen.

Xiao Wen: Youhua, are you home yet? Was the trip smooth?

His fingers moved as he quickly replied:

Chen Youhua: On the high-speed train. It's smooth.

Almost immediately, she replied again:

Xiao Wen: That's good! Get some good rest when you get home, and eat lots of good food during New Year's! Our break has started too. It's so lively at home, all sorts of aunts and relatives have come over, my head is spinning.

Chen Youhua looked at the 'head spinning' emoji; he couldn't quite empathize with the trouble caused by such liveliness, but he could understand the irritation of information overload.

He thought for a moment and sent back a reply fitting for an ordinary friend:

Chen Youhua: Yeah, you should rest well too. It is a bit noisy with many people.

After replying, he set his phone to silent and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Social interaction, even simple text exchanges, felt like running a background program to him—it consumed energy.

The broadcast announced the upcoming station.

He picked up his backpack.

Inside were only a few changes of clothes, a toiletry bag, and the laptop he never left behind.

He followed the flow of people off the train and stepped onto his hometown's platform.

The four large characters for Z City South Station were somewhat dazzling under the winter sun.

The crowd inside the station was noticeably larger than usual; people dragging suitcases, carrying snakeskin bags, or holding children. The air was thick with the urgency of returning home and a faint scent of sweat.

He subconsciously adjusted his mask, avoided the densest parts of the crowd, and walked quickly toward the taxi stand.

While queuing for a car, he noticed the changes in the station square.

Many new saplings had been planted in the green belts; their trunks were thin and weak, supported by three wooden sticks, looking somewhat pitiful in the cold wind.

The ground was paved with brand-new grey tiles, the gaps uniform and neat.

Several sanitation workers in orange vests were carefully sweeping.

The changes weren't huge, but when overlaid with the images in his memory, they produced a subtle sense of difference.

"Master, to Jingyuan Neighborhood."

He sat in the back seat of the taxi and gave the address.

The driver was a man in his forties, quite talkative.

"Alright! Jingyuan Neighborhood, I know it well! Coming back for the New Year holidays, young man? A college student, right?"

"Yes," Chen Youhua responded, his gaze fixed out the window.

"From Z University, right? A good school! What are you studying?" The driver clearly didn't intend to end the conversation.

"Biology."

"Oh, biology! That's good, high-tech!"

The driver's tone was exaggerated.

"Can you research elixirs of immortality in the future?"

"..."

He was silent for two seconds, choosing the most realistic and least effortful answer.

"Researching cells."

"Cells? Oh, oh, that's pretty impressive too!"

The driver didn't seem satisfied with this answer, but he didn't press further, turning instead to complain about the year-end traffic and prices.

Chen Youhua hummed a few times in response, most of his attention on the street scenes flying past the window.

Familiar streets, familiar shop signs, though some shops had changed their storefronts and new milk tea shops had opened in some places.

He saw someone in a mascot costume handing out flyers on the roadside, their clumsy movements attracting several children to watch.

These mundane, trivial, life-filled scenes surged toward him like a tide.

He was like a traveler who had just returned from overseas, needing a little time to re-adapt to the environment.

The car drove into the familiar neighborhood.

Auntie Wang from the convenience store downstairs was carrying a box of fruit; her eyes lit up when she saw him get out of the car.

"Oh! Youhua is back! College student on break? You've grown taller, and thinner!"

Chen Youhua nodded politely: "Hello, Auntie Wang."

"Go on up quickly, your parents must be waiting anxiously!" Auntie Wang waved enthusiastically.

He walked to his apartment building and pressed the doorbell.

Almost instantly, his mother's smiling, high-pitched voice came through the intercom.

"Youhua? Is that Youhua back? Come up, come up quickly!"

"Mom, it's me," he answered briefly.

The building door opened with a 'click'.

He walked up the stairs, and as soon as he reached the second floor, the front door was already open.

His mother stood at the door wearing an apron, her joy unconcealable as she looked him up and down.

"You're finally back! Was the trip tiring? Oh my, you do look a bit thinner; you must not have been eating well at school!"

His father also walked over from the living room with a gentle smile and took the backpack from his hand.

"It's good to have you back. Come inside quickly, it's cold outside."

The house was warm, filled with the aroma of stewed meat and a long-lost, unique scent that belonged to home.

The TV was playing a lively New Year's program, the volume turned up a bit high.

The coffee table in the living room was piled with sunflower seeds, peanuts, candies, and sliced fruit.

"Are you hungry? Dinner will be ready soon! I stewed your favorite ribs!"

His mother said as she walked toward the kitchen.

"Go wash your face first and change into some comfortable clothes!"

"Okay."

Chen Youhua responded and put on his slippers.

Everything in the house carried a sense of familiarity steeped in time; the placement of objects, the calendar on the wall, even the smell in the air were almost exactly the same as when he left.

He walked into his room.

The desk and bed were all neatly tidied, obviously arranged specifically by his mother.

The high school textbooks and exercise books on the bookshelf were still stacked neatly, like frozen time.

He put down his backpack and let out a soft breath.

He walked to the window, watching a few children chasing and playing in the neighborhood below, the cured meat and sausages drying on a neighbor's balcony, and the faint sound of firecrackers in the distance.

A vast and concrete sense of life itself enveloped him.