At just past five in the morning, the breakfast shop behind the station was already open for business. The young man frying buns looked up with surprise as Lin Song walked past his storefront.
Lin Song had to make a trip to Fuyang this morning for his first meeting with a client. To avoid getting sunburned during the long drive, he had deliberately worn a long-sleeved shirt. He had planned to buy four buns from the Kechen Baozi Shop for breakfast, but when he saw that a single bun from this shop was bigger than two from the Dehua Restaurant, he quickly told the owner that two meat buns and one vegetable bun would be enough. The three large buns cost seven yuan in total.
The sun had not yet climbed over the rooftops to the east, and the sky was filled with clouds like fish scales. On the steps of the Everbright Bank, five construction workers sat in a scattered row eating their breakfast, their mottled yellow hard hats resting beside them. They too looked up with surprise, watching the neatly dressed Lin Song walk past.
Lin Song had checked the engine bay of his Peugeot 508 the day before, topped up the coolant, and filled the gas tank. It should be enough to handle the four-hundred-kilometer journey. The destination was already set in the navigation app. As soon as the car emerged from the underground garage, Gaode Maps planned the most time-efficient route—heading north.
From the three-way fork at Gusaochu Road, he took the middle lane up onto the Airport Second Expressway. After just a few minutes, he merged onto the old Airport Expressway. Lin Song found a gas station on the highway, pulled in, and stopped the car. He fastened the seatbelt on the passenger side, securing the backpack that sat on the seat. After turning off at the Panlongcheng Interchange, he collected a toll card at the entrance to the G42 Shanghai-Chengdu Expressway and entered the 120 km/h speed limit zone.
It had been a long time since Lin Song had used the adaptive cruise control system. He began to recall the operating steps from memory. He always remembered that for his most-used functions, the control stalk was always pulled towards him. Sport mode, adaptive wipers, and adaptive cruise control all followed the same logic.
Although he had set the car to adaptive cruise control, he didn’t activate it immediately, instead leaving the function on standby. He first wanted to let his brain get accustomed to how the 508 would react at speeds over 120 km/h. Once the speedometer passed 130 km/h, the 508’s performance was far more stable and confident than his old Citroën C-Quatre. At over 130, the C-Quatre would be left panting, with wind noise, tire noise, and engine noise all present and accounted for.
In less than fifteen minutes, Lin Song had set the adaptive cruise control speed to 135 km/h. This should be a feasible speed that wouldn’t get him a ticket.
He noticed a place name on a highway sign: “Lukou,” which literally means “Intersection.” Lin Song mused with curiosity, if you were to arrange a meeting at the intersection in “Intersection,” how would you explain it clearly to the other person?
By the time he reached the Luoshan North Service Area, he had been driving for nearly two hours, right on schedule for his planned rest stop. He had intended to eat only two of the large buns, but then he considered that leaving one in the car in this hot season would be unwise if it were to spoil. So, he ate all three buns in one go. It seemed that driving was quite a physically demanding task after all; Lin Song didn’t even feel stuffed.
After finishing the buns and drinking some of the iced tea he had brought, he set a twenty-minute alarm on his phone and prepared to take a nap right there in the service area. The sun hadn’t fully risen over the rest stop. He parked in the shade of the main service building, rolled down the windows, and put on an eye mask. There was no need for the car’s AC; he could sleep peacefully.
When the alarm went off, Lin Song roused himself, took another sip of iced tea, and continued on his way.
Gaode Maps gave him an advance warning for every speed camera on the highway. Each time he heard the alert, he would disengage the adaptive cruise control about a hundred meters from the gantry, allowing the car to glide smoothly past the camera’s lens.
After crossing the Dabie Mountains to the north, he entered Henan Province. The city of Xinyang seemed to have a closer affinity with Hubei; Jigong Mountain was once a must-visit tourist destination for people from Wuhan. At Xinyang, he made a turn and continued heading northeast. In less than an hour, he crossed from Henan into Anhui. Everything north of the Huai River should be Anhui’s territory, he supposed.
Lin Song kept track of the time, stopping at a service area every hour or so for a rest and a sip of iced tea. He no longer dared to drink from his water bottle while driving.
Just a year ago, if he had to go on a long trip—whether by plane, train, or car—Lin Song would just get up and go. How had he become so full of apprehension now? He had to weigh his options repeatedly, figuring out which method was the most prudent. Even after setting off, he would still worry, afraid that his current physical and mental state wouldn’t be enough to last him to his destination.
Before, even if he were driving for 24 hours straight, he wouldn’t have been afraid, even if he dozed off for a moment with his hands on the wheel. At most, he would just rub his eyes, jolt himself awake, and keep driving. Now, it was completely different.