Insights

Venting is a base emotion. Lin Song dislikes it when people get forceful and aggressive in their interactions. Perhaps it’s because, over the past few years, he has been so worn down by such overbearing attitudes that he feels his own lung capacity has diminished. At noon, after dropping off Xiao Lin at the train station, he went to a client’s office to settle a payment. Coming down from the elevated departure level of the station, Lin Song began to wonder how he would kill the next two hours until his client’s office opened at two. It was too hot to stay out under the sun. The underground parking at the mall was only free for thirty minutes, which, after accounting for the time to drive in and out, wasn’t even long enough for a nap. Maybe he could find a diner on a small side street, have lunch, and enjoy two hours of free air conditioning. That seemed like a good option. ...

As expected, the orange high-temperature warning arrived on schedule, like a gilded invitation for the entire city to partake in a grand sauna. For all those not required to clock in at an office, the strategy for escaping the heat was strikingly uniform: flock to the shopping mall, that modern oasis of steel and concrete, to righteously share its free air conditioning. The sun had just crossed the horizon, the morning light yet to fully dispel the city’s slumber, when figures already began to gather at the mall’s entrance at half-past nine. It had become an unspoken ritual. In the mall’s atrium, the tables and chairs intended to attract customers for coffee shops and bubble tea stalls now served as the exclusive domain of the city’s elders—the Grandpas Wang and Auntie Lis. They were the earliest “residents” here, sitting quietly with the unhurried poise of age. The businesses seemed to have grown accustomed to this special group of “patrons.” During off-peak hours, the staff would carefully navigate around their napping forms, reluctant to disturb the tranquility that belonged to them. ...

At the intersection beneath the overpass, the road surface, worn out from years of neglect, was once riddled with potholes. Drivers who frequented this route would instinctively steer around the sunken manhole covers to avoid scraping the undercarriage of their cars. After the summer rains, the eroded roadbed, repeatedly crushed by heavy vehicles, became even more bumpy and unbearable. Last week, the intersection was repaved with fresh asphalt, the depressions were filled, and a new crosswalk was painted at the widest point. ...

For 30 consecutive days, the maximum temperature in Wuhan has exceeded 38°C (100.4°F). For a month, the high temperatures have had perfect attendance, never absent, never late. In the sweltering heat of July, some chose to escape to southeastern Hubei. But who would have known that deep in the Dabie Mountains, it was just as historically hot as Wuhan? During the day, swirling clouds of mist felt like a steamer; at night, air conditioning was a must. The teachers who went to the mountains to escape the heat this summer all felt they had escaped for nothing. Since they had to use air conditioning anyway, wasn’t it better to be back in Wuhan, sprawled on their own couches, eating watermelon and scrolling through their phones, free and at ease? ...

On a Saturday afternoon, the gym is at its quietest. Sunlight slants through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting bright patches on the dark gray rubber floor. The air is a mixture of scents—the cold, metallic smell of the equipment, a faint hint of disinfectant, and the subtle trace of evaporated sweat. The weekday evening hustle is gone, replaced by an off-peak tranquility, as if a soothing rest note has been placed at the end of a long, strenuous week. ...

It was sunny when he set out. After crossing the Dabie Mountains, the clouds in the sky began to thicken. As he approached Fuyang, a few raindrops even splattered against the windshield. In the past, when traveling on inter-provincial expressways, you had to swap your IC toll card at each provincial border, settling the toll for the completed section before starting anew in the next province. Every business trip left Lin Song with a pile of toll receipts to file for reimbursement. This time, however, he truly understood what a “seamless journey” meant. He collected his IC card at Hankou North, entered the G42 Shanghai-Chengdu Expressway, and didn’t settle the toll until he exited at Yingshang East from the Chuzhou-Xincai Expressway. There were no intermediate charges—it was a single, uninterrupted trip. ...

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. ...

Surprisingly, there was no one seeking refuge from the heat in the entrance passage of the Shiqiao Metro Station. As Lin Song descended on the escalator, he could feel that the air conditioning in the station seemed to be off. On the concourse level, in front of the Zhou Hei Ya duck neck stall, a notice was pasted on the bright yellow construction barrier: “Construction Hazard, Do Not Approach.” Today’s breakfast was reganmian. The new girl at the counter asked every customer as a matter of routine, “Is there anything you don’t want in it?” “No string beans.” A mother asked the little boy, who was also having reganmian, what else he wanted. “A cup of soy milk. Remember to get a warm one.” After instructing his mother, the little boy started singing, “A-ba-zi, a-ba-zi, a-ba-zi…” ...

Summer vacation was in full swing, and grandparents had become the main force in childcare. The grandmothers’ specialty was taking the little ones to the mall to cool off. They’d find an open area with a large TV, and the old and young would sit down in rows. The TV played old cartoons on a loop. A film like Godzilla vs. Kong held no appeal for them. The children lost interest after a couple of glances, and the elderly had no idea who the monsters were fighting, much less why. The kids much preferred watching Princess Elsa from Frozen sing her enchanting songs. When the beautiful Elsa danced, the children became exceptionally well-behaved. ...

In October of 1996, Lin Song and his colleagues went to Zhengzhou on a business trip. The weather was cool and pleasant. After finishing their official duties, they decided to use the spare time before their return journey to visit the Songshan Shaolin Temple. By then, nearly fifteen years had passed since Lin Song, in the prime of his youth, had watched Jet Li’s Shaolin Temple. Lin Song remembered it was a weekday. Aside from seeing the sign for a martial arts school at the entrance, there weren’t many tourists at the temple. It was a spontaneous trip, so they hadn’t brought a camera. They used their memories of the movie as their travel guide. ...