Chapter 1: Meeting on the Road
Chapter 1: Meeting on the Road
Boom!
The skies in July changed fast. One minute, clear blue stretched everywhere; the next, dark clouds rolled in, thunder rumbling nonstop.
A heavy rain was about to fall any second.
Riding his motorcycle along the mountain path, Gao Jing glanced up at the sky and groaned silently.
Provincial Capital was still thirty or forty kilometers away. Here, there was no village in front or inn behind—not even a place to hide from the rain. He was definitely going to get soaked to the bone.
He should have brought his rain poncho. The weather report had fooled him!
With no choice, Gao Jing twisted the throttle all the way down, speeding forward.
Thinking optimistically: if he ran fast enough, the heavy rain couldn’t catch him.
Thud!
He never expected it. Barely a hundred meters further, his front wheel hit a muddy pothole. Suddenly, it lost all balance.
It slammed hard onto the ground, taking him down with it.
Gao Jing landed flat on his face—literally, face-first.
Ouch! The pain was hard to describe in words.
Fortunately, he was wearing his helmet. So, even though he fell ugly, his most important asset—his head—was safe.
A small mercy amid the misfortune.
Gao Jing struggled to get up off the ground. Only then did he see his right hand was scraped, blood oozing a deep red.
Luckily, it wasn’t too serious.
He lifted the bleeding scrape to his mouth and sucked on it, getting rid of the dirt and sand stuck there. Then he turned his head and spat out the blood-tinged saliva.
Compared to this small injury, his rattling, beat-up old motorcycle concerned him more.
Rattling and beat-up as it was, it had still cost him over a thousand yuan.
This was, after all, Gao Jing’s most essential tool. Commuting to work and running business errands—he relied on it fully.
His frustration mounted when he found the motorcycle’s front tire had blown out. Something had ripped a large hole in it.
There was no way to patch it!
Boom! Crrrrrrash!
The thunder crashed louder, like a landlord bellowing for rent.
Soul-shaking.
Gao Jing sat down weakly by the roadside. He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a cigarette and his lighter, and lit one for himself.
He barely ever smoked normally. Carrying cigarettes was purely for work duties.
But right now, he wanted one.
Smoke curled upward, clouding Gao Jing’s eyes.
His twenty-six years of life so far felt like a large tea table—strewn with nothing but broken cups.
Ever since he had memory, his parents’ relationship had been terrible. Day in, day out—arguing and fighting, never a day of peace.
When he was five, they got divorced. Soon, they both started new families.
Had new children.
Meanwhile, Gao Jing got dumped onto his grandpa to raise. Though he had both parents alive, it was almost like he had none at all.
At eighteen, his grandpa fell seriously ill. They spent every bit of savings, sold their only house… but couldn’t save his life.
On his deathbed, his grandpa had felt especially guilty, believing he had dragged Gao Jing down.
That pain lived forever in Gao Jing’s heart.
That same year, he bombed his college entrance exams. All the prep for elite universities, yet his score only reached the second-tier level.
Gao Jing didn’t retake the exams. Leaning on student loans and part-time jobs, he finished university.
After graduating, he started at a trading company in Provincial Capital. Worked hard for four years. Along the way: disappointments… friends turning against him… his girlfriend leaving…
Still, to this day, he’s stuck as the lowest-level sales trainee.
Today, Gao Jing came out here hunting down a debt owed by some small, remote factory.
He hadn’t gotten the money. Instead, he wrecked his ride halfway.
Gao Jing took one fierce, final drag from his cigarette. Pressed his still-blood-tasting lips together. He stood back up.
He couldn’t accept it. Had to check the motorcycle’s front wheel again. Needed… any possible fix.
Huh?
Gao Jing noticed something made of what looked like metal buried deep in the tire rubber.
This was clearly what caused the blowout.
Driven part by curiosity, part by anger, Gao Jing reached out and strained to yank it free.
Wanted to know exactly what thing had brought such bad luck!
It was an anchor.
No bigger than an infant’s palm. Bronze-colored. Well-crafted, every part—the two curved claws snaking left and right; the cross-shaped anchor arm; the rounded ring at its top.
It also felt heavy, surprisingly hefty.
What amazed him was the design. The anchor shaft twisted like a snake. Its serpent-mouth shape bit onto the ringed shackle at the top. Serious scales covered its snake-body, distinct and finely layered. Some shiny pieces near its neck shifted with pure silver-like luster.
Who lost this?
Gao Jing couldn’t help feeling stunned.
This thing looked like art. Probably kind of valuable, too.
He turned it over in his hands, examining it—when blood from his cut accidentally smeared onto the Bronze Anchor.
Beep! Beep!
Horn blasts behind him snapped Gao Jing awake.
His head whipped around. Behind him, no more than a few meters away, stood a Jeep. Had it arrived just now? He hadn’t noticed.
“Sorry ’bout that,” he blurted.
Gao Jing quickly waved at the driver. Hurried over to lift his fallen motorcycle and push it by the roadside.
This mountain road was narrow. Blocking others wasn’t right.
As for the Bronze Anchor? Without another thought, he stuffed it into his pants pocket.
A brawny man, sporting a cowboy hat, climbed out from the Jeep.
“Friend, what happened?” the man called.
Gao Jing sighed. “Blew a tire.”
The big man eyed the wheel. “’Definitely wrecked. Needs replacing.”
“Yup,” Gao Jing replied gloomily.
Tipping his head skyward, the big man finally said, “Rain’s closing in. Heading back to Yuncheng? Let me give you a ride.”
Gratitude flooded Gao Jing. “Thanks, man.”
Yet the thought of abandoning his motorcycle in the middle of nowhere nagged him. Poor folks really couldn’t afford such losses.
The big man sized up the situation and laughed. “Bring your motorcycle too. My truck’s bed can hold it.”
“That’s so kind of you! Thank you!”
Gao Jing was incredibly grateful—he’d met a good person.
The man drove the jeep forward, and the two of them worked together to lift the motorcycle onto the back of the jeep.
Just as Gao Jing got into the passenger seat, raindrops as big as beans began to fall. They landed on the windshield with a loud pitter-patter.
He said sincerely, “Big brother, I really owe you this time. Let me treat you to a meal when we get back.”
“Don’t be so polite.”
The man shook his head. “Everyone has tough times. If I can help, I will. It’s no big deal.”
Gao Jing said nothing, but warmth filled his heart.
After experiencing the warmth and coldness of the world, he knew how precious a stranger’s help and kind words were.
There were still many good people in the world.
The man reached over and opened the storage box, handing Gao Jing a first aid kit. “There’s iodine and bandages inside. Clean and wrap your hand so it doesn’t get infected.”
“Thank you.”
Gao Jing quickly took it. While cleaning and bandaging his hand, he asked, “What should I call you, big brother?”
The warm-hearted, big strong man was named Jing Zhiyong. He was in his thirties, and his job was being a traveler and a Meteor Hunter.
Traveler needed no explanation. A Meteor Hunter was someone who roamed deserts, mountains, icy plains, and wilderness searching for meteorites from outer space.
A week ago, a meteor fell near Lion Peak Mountain. Jing Zhiyong had come searching for it.
Gao Jing found this interesting. “Did you find any?”
He’d seen local news about the meteor hitting Lion Peak Mountain in his friend circle, along with videos and photos.
“Searched for five or six days. Haven’t seen even a speck of meteorite dust,” Jing Zhiyong replied, driving. “Finding meteorites in mountains is tough. I’m treating it as a trip.”
This hunter was quite talkative and well-traveled. Chatting about interesting stories and amusing things, he lifted Gao Jing’s gloomy mood.
Gao Jing also shared some of his own stories with Jing Zhiyong.
The two quickly became familiar.
By the time they reached the Provincial Capital, the heavy rain had stopped.
Jing Zhiyong drove Gao Jing straight to a repair shop and helped unload the motorcycle from the truck bed.
“Xiao Gao.”
Afterwards, Jing Zhiyong said to him, “You take care here. I need to go handle some things.”
Gao Jing was surprised. “Brother Jing, let’s eat a meal together before you go.”
The other man had helped him so much. If Gao Jing didn’t express his gratitude, he would feel uneasy about it.
“Not necessary.”
Jing Zhiyong smiled. “See you next time.”
He patted Gao Jing’s shoulder. “No hurdle in life is too high to get over. As long as you live well, there’s always hope.”
Gao Jing nodded silently.
Even though they exchanged contact information, the chance of meeting again was truly small.
He watched as Jing Zhiyong’s jeep merged into the river of cars and soon disappeared from sight.
After his bike was fixed and Gao Jing returned to his rental apartment, it was already dark.
He boiled a pack of instant noodles for dinner. After eating and taking a shower, tiredness took over, and he lay down on his bed.
He quickly fell into a deep sleep.
He had a dream.