Before New Year's Eve Comes the Twenty-Ninth

After spending two days in a glass house in Antarctica, Liu Chang'an returned to Junsha on the evening of the twenty-ninth day of the Lunar New Year.

It was snowing in Junsha.

Returning on a snowy, windy night, Liu Chang'an stepped out of the high-speed rail station—where only the lights near the passageways remained on—after the last train stopped at Junsha had departed. He breathed out a puff of white air. Something in this city's air made the corners of his mouth lift unconsciously.

He was home. Liu Chang'an was deeply invested in and fond of his current identity. Perhaps he would feel differently when looking back on it someday, but right now, it felt wonderful.

Tiny flakes drifted down through the dark gray sky, both near and far. There were not many passengers getting off at this station, but it was still difficult for Liu Chang'an to hail a car nearby. Rather than queue at the taxi stand, he crossed the underground passage beneath the station plaza and simply set off on foot.

His soles crunched over the neither-deep-nor-shallow snow, the fine sounds giving his steps a rhythmic feel. Walking in snow took a little more effort than usual, and the occasional patches of thin ice were especially slippery. There were very few pedestrians and vehicles on the road. In this weather, even the city's prosperity and clamor had finally quieted down.

Tomorrow was New Year's Eve. Being able to make it back today was an exhilarating thing. Liu Chang'an wondered how many people across the country were content simply because they had managed to get home today.

Perhaps there were also countless people sitting silently somewhere, letting out a soft sigh. Another New Year.

With snow falling, Liu Chang'an's pace was slower than usual. Gradually, snow accumulated on