25: Chapter 25 Looking Back at the Final Stop

When the long wail of the train whistle exploded over the platform, Chen Jie was slinging his last backpack onto his shoulder. The rust from the iron carriage couplings rubbed off onto his work pants, leaving a pale yellow mark that looked exactly like the patterns on the pebbles in the streams of Suiyu Slope. Zhao Kai was dangling half a bag of walnuts in front of him, the "rustling" sound of the plastic bag mixing with the urging of the station broadcast, thickening the atmosphere of departure.

"Hurry up! Wang Lei said he's waiting at the exit, and the braised food is almost cold." Zhao Kai called back, tossing his phone in his hand like a hot potato—the screen was still on a photo of the mountain waterfall, where the silver threads of splashing water faintly revealed a corner of Chen Jie's backpack. He frowned and kicked away a cigarette butt at his feet. "Seriously, this miserable trip is finally over. My phone got waterlogged, I fell into the stream, and I was almost hit by falling rocks. Next time I hear you rambling about 'scavenging old parts,' I'm throwing your tool kit onto the tracks."

Chen Jie's footsteps faltered. He gazed at the white mist spewed by the locomotive, those milky vapors slowly dissipating above the tracks, looking remarkably like the morning mist of Suiyu Slope, clinging to the railroad ties as if unwilling to leave.

"Miserable?" He lowered his head and smiled, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the backpack strap. "Have you forgotten Auntie Wang's corn buns, Old Zhou's spring water, and the stones of Suiyu Slope?" The jade stone inside the backpack suddenly bumped gently against a wrench with a crisp "clink," as if agreeing with his words.

"Can corn buns smell better than burgers? Can spring water be sweeter than cola?" Zhao Kai scoffed, yet he couldn't help but touch his pants pocket—inside was the wild grape seed Auntie Wang had stuffed into it, saying it would sprout if soaked in water. "Only you think those broken stones are treasures. I still can't figure out how a piece of broken jade stone could make a stone slab on a pickle jar move on its own. Is that scientific?" He suddenly lowered his voice. "But... when the smoke at the campsite was swirling into the bag, it was actually kind of interesting."

Chen Jie didn't respond, just glanced back in the direction the train had come from. The wind on the platform swept past, carrying the smell of coal smoke, reminding him of the pine needle fire at the campsite—how Zhao Kai had choked on the black smoke while building the fire, while he himself had been protected in a smoke-free corner by the jade stone. The scent of pine resin mixed with the dampness of the stream was a smell you couldn't find in the city.

"Things that science can't explain aren't necessarily fake." He recalled the legend of the Jade God that Auntie Wang had told, and the sparks on Old Liu's pipe. "Just like Grandma Zhang's old radio. You thought it couldn't be fixed, but what happened?"

"That's because you're skilled, it has nothing to do with the stone." Zhao Kai insisted stubbornly, though he slowed his pace. He suddenly remembered the slow-motion way Chen Jie had caught the hot kettle, and the map that had dried automatically in the rain shelter. Those moments he had dismissed as "coincidences" were now like scattered beads being strung together by the thread of the "jade stone." "Seriously, do you plan on hiding that stone as a treasure forever? At least let me study it some more..."

"Study it?" Chen Jie raised an eyebrow and pulled him toward the exit. "Study how it sucked the water out of your phone? Or study how it kept you from knocking your teeth out when you fell into the stream?"

He patted his backpack. "This stone is shy. Only someone like you who always calls it a 'broken stone' would think it only knows how to cause trouble."

Passing by a billboard on the platform, Chen Jie's gaze was hooked by a faded travel poster. The image showed green mountains stacked upon green mountains, with a waterfall hanging on the cliff like a white silk ribbon, and the words "Welcome to Suiyu Slope" written in red paint at the bottom. He suddenly felt that the "misery" Zhao Kai spoke of was actually another kind of harvest—just like when repairing things, you often have to break a few parts before you can understand the machine's temperament.

"What are you looking at?" Zhao Kai followed his gaze. "This crappy poster is curling at the edges, it's not even as good-looking as the waterfall you photographed."

He pulled out his phone to flip through photos and suddenly let out an "Eh?" "Look at this one. When you were crouching by the stream picking up stones, was there light on the water surface?"

Chen Jie leaned in to look. In the photo, he was facing away from the camera, his pant legs soaked in the water, his fingertips just touching that dark green jade stone. Sure enough, a faint layer of blue light was floating on the water surface, like a handful of scattered stars. "It's a lighting issue." He pushed the phone back, though he knew in his heart that something had already followed this stone and quietly crept into their lives.

"Let's go!" Zhao Kai pulled him as they rushed through the glass doors. The scent of Wang Lei's braised food instantly enveloped them, mixed with the city's characteristic exhaust fumes, scattering the mountain air to pieces.

Chen Jie was ushered toward the parking lot. Zhao Kai was still rambling on, complaining about how difficult the mountain roads were, yet when passing a fruit stand, he subconsciously bought a bunch of wild grapes—the same kind as those in Old Liu's bamboo basket. Chen Jie looked at his back and smiled, touching the jade stone inside his backpack.

Some journeys, some people remember the misery, while others remember the light. And this stone would remember all the parts they hadn't said out loud for them.