If, say, the spring in Suzhou and Hangzhou in April is a lively little girl, mischievous but refreshing and full of vitality; then the spring in Guangdong in April is more like a passionate lady - whether it's humidity or temperature, it is extremely passionate, making it difficult for me, who has just gotten off the plane, to bear.
It seems that I made a mistake in packing before coming back, as I actually packed away my long pants into my backpack. So, without saying much, at least the airport is all black, with patterns, and the mosquitoes flying leisurely inside are indeed having a feast.
Thanks to them, I could hardly close my eyes all night. Fortunately, there is electricity and internet, as well as pedestrians and security guards who are also stranded, so it won't be too lonely after all.
Although opening a computer at the airport seems to be easily misunderstood as constantly working overtime, haha.
When I emerged from underground, the sun had already begun to rise.
Today is an unusually good weather, the continuous rain from the past few days has disappeared, the sky is cloudless, clear, and serene, like a warm jade, making people unable to resist reaching out and trying to touch it.
However, in the end, I still bent down and rubbed my ankles a few times. It's hard to say whether crossing the bitten area in a cross shape has any practical use, but at least, the slight tingling sensation is more comfortable than itching.
I am basking in the sun leaning against the railing of the bus stop.
The cool touch of metal moisturizes the dry skin and brings a little clarity to my drowsy mind.
The gradually brightening sunlight gently disperses the damp coldness that has accumulated overnight - I even feel like I'm about to grow mushrooms if I stay here any longer - making my body warm and dry again.
Although it's quite early, there is no shortage of pedestrians on the commute.
Young people carrying backpacks, middle-aged people with briefcases, a girl holding a short video with one hand, a woman with half-gray hair carrying two old red plastic buckets of unknown use, and a child wearing a traditional long-sleeved school uniform, people of all kinds, with different purposes, but on the same road, moving in the same direction, rushing to today's life.
Having rested enough, I walk against the crowd and go upstream.
I am also an ordinary person who follows the crowd and follows the rules. But that doesn't stop me from drawing a little pleasure from this small act of rebellion against the boring daily routine.
My gaze sweeps over the slowly moving crowd, over the lush branches, and without focus, it looks into the distance.
In the apartment, the unknown seeds planted in the flower pots have already sprouted, and the tender leaves are facing the sun, but they haven't fully opened yet.
There is a comfortable bed, a familiar pillow, and I can peacefully sleep for a whole day after freshening up.
The troubles of the workday are still irrelevant to me, and I can luxuriously enjoy an extra day off.
So, with heavy dark circles under my eyes, I walk on the road, humming a monotonous and repetitive tune:
To learn to be a fairy, to ride a crane and fly, to turn stones into gold, indescribably wonderful, I must go to Mount Lao to learn to be immortal~