Chapter 210

"The brightest star in the night sky," "Can you recall," "The one who once traveled with me," "The silhouette that vanished into the wind." Outside the bus window, the night was blurry, the orange-red streetlights casting a hazy glow over everything, staining the hearts of those passing by. The exhaustion in their bodies and the unbearable burdens in their hearts were briefly chased from their minds by the singing. The clear, bright vocals echoed through the moving bus as if reverberating endlessly above the city—a sound filled with both melancholy and an uplifting spirit. It was much like the night-travelers themselves: exhausted, yet still pushing forward. Everyone has something they cling to—be it a favorite flavor of milk tea, a refusal to leave this city, a vague, ethereal hope, or a dream that has long since been swept into the dust. As they persevere along their paths, those who once walked beside them are like passengers on this bus; they always eventually get off, sometimes without even a word of farewell.