At eleven that night, the plane landed in M City.
His eagerness to get home had become an action verb. Ding Ding could not control his feet at all. Only when he noticed the odd looks from people around him did he realize he was actually jogging.
For a man of thirty, this was far too undignified.
A little embarrassed, Ding Ding followed the crowd to collect his luggage in an orderly fashion.
Once he had his bags in hand, he could no longer contain his excitement again.
It was not as though these people passing him would run into him every day in the future and point at him, laughing about the man who had gone tearing through the airport.
Nobody knew anybody. To hell with it.
Ding Ding broke into a run, taking long strides. Beyond the corridor windows, all was dark, reflecting a figure running at full speed and a grin stretching from ear to ear.
The advantage of being the first to run out was not having to queue at the taxi stand.
Even the driver waiting for passengers smiled and offered Ding Ding a cigarette.
"In such a hurry?"
Ding Ding murmured an assent but declined the cigarette. "Someone's waiting at home. Please drive a little faster. Sorry for the trouble."
The driver was a passionate sort himself. Hearing that, he all but pushed his foot through the floor into the fuel tank.
"I was the same when my wife and I first got married. If something came up and we had to spend a few days apart, it drove me out of my mind. I wished I could sprout wings and fly home."
Ding Ding was in a good mood and happy to chat.
"Well, you're my wings right now. My happy life is