"Are you eating Dachangjin?"
"I've eaten it before!"
"It's very spicy!"
Zhou Li faintly heard a little boy's voice. It wasn't his own, and certainly not Brother Nan's.
The sound came a bit earlier than the imagery.
Like ripples on water gradually smoothing out, a stroke of sunset and an old, dilapidated aqueduct bridge appeared before his eyes.
Mountains layered upon mountains rose in the distance, with bamboo groves and homes nearby.
The aqueduct bridge was low at both ends and high in the middle. It had seemingly been abandoned for many years; moss had crept between the stones, and even two small trees had sprouted at its highest point, the finishing touch to the landscape.
A few children sat at one end of the bridge.
Zhou Li looked down at himself: blue jeans, a short-sleeved tee, and a pair of skateboard shoes. Whenever he pictured himself, this was his outfit. A small path lay underfoot.
He lifted his head again to look forward.
