One clear sign that Nanjiang City was still a third-tier city despite being a provincial capital was that, in other major cities, their outlying counties had either long since been incorporated as districts or had direct intercity subway lines or maglev trains.
But to reach certain counties under Nanjiang City's jurisdiction, apart from a dedicated airport bus route, people actually still had to take ancient coaches and minibuses along provincial roads.
Chu Ge complained bitterly about this, while Qiu Wuji was full of enthusiasm.
After all, she had never ridden one before. It looked rather different from a city bus, and the swaying and jolting along the way actually reminded her a little of riding in a sedan chair.
There were plenty of fields on either side of the provincial road, too. Their golden autumn colors put Qiu Wuji in a wonderful mood. She leaned lazily against the window, watching, a smile never leaving her lips.
If that trip out to the countryside to pick foxtail grass didn't count, this should be my first time leaving Nanjiang City, shouldn't it?
Qiu Wuji ordinarily had no yearning for poetry and distant horizons. During her cultivation, she had spent far too many stretches of a hundred years or more sitting alone in the mountains. She was thoroughly accustomed to it, her heart as still as water. As for roaming the Nine Provinces and taking in all the sights of the world, she had long since had her fill of that as well.
Observing everything under heaven from a single room, surveying the world through a little box of a laptop-she found that more novel and interesting instead, and it made her even less inclined to go out.
But when she actually did come out, her spirits still lifted. Even the coach's smell