The next morning, HR representative Wu Yiying met Lin Yuhui in the lobby on the first floor of the office building to complete his onboarding procedures. Aside from a few meeting rooms, the entire length of the first floor was occupied by a spacious lobby. One side featured displays of the company's product models, while the other housed an open discussion area.
Lin Yuhui's Design Department was on the third floor. The second floor appeared to be conference rooms. All design department employees worked in one room—quite a few people for the limited space, so the situation during seasonal temperature changes was easy to imagine.
And so his work began. This was an incinerator company specializing in organic waste gas treatment. After selling equipment to clients, they handled installation and construction, including piping, which required detailed design drawings. This was second nature to Lin Yuhui, and Friday's work flew by.
On his weekend off, following his usual routine, he went for a walk to familiarize himself with the surrounding area. This area was an industrial zone, with roads separating the larger sections. Following the neighborhood streets, he reached the northern end and discovered a small riverside village. This wasn't unusual—Shanghai's water network was well-known—but what caught his eye were several abandoned tour boats moored in the river. Made of colorful fiberglass with paddles, they came in red, green, and blue, their hulls faded from years of neglect.
Lin Yuhui found it rather charming, evoking a nostalgic sense of everyday life. He followed the concrete path along the riverbank, crossing a stone bridge spanning the water. On the opposite shore, one house stood out: its courtyard wall clad in white ceramic tiles, an arched gate, potted flowers arranged at the entrance, and a large, leafy tree within the yard, seemingly a witness to the passage of time in this courtyard.
The bulletin boards at the bridgehead displayed posters about combating the coronavirus. This small village had few households, and the permanent residents seemed even fewer—just a handful of elderly people here and there.
Just then, a black dog trotted slowly along the path ahead. Uncertain of its intentions, Lin Yuhui watched its movements closely, alert for any signs of aggression.
When it reached him, it stopped, appearing calm. It lifted its head and sniffed in Lin Yuhui's direction—a typical canine way of identifying people. Lin Yuhui chuckled inwardly, thinking, I haven't bathed in a week. I stink, and you still come to sniff me.
The dog remained calm, neither barking nor approaching too closely. After sniffing, it turned its head toward the small stone bridge, its rear facing him. This reminded Lin Yuhui of an incident twenty years prior. A black female dog, kept in a rented house near the project workers' canteen, had also turned its rear toward him the very first time he went there to eat. Lin Yuhui couldn't help but wonder if, in the cycle of life, he had been a dog in a past life. That must be why female dogs always showed him such favor. Even funnier, they were all black mongrels—no other dogs ever behaved this way.
Lin Yuhui walked around it and continued onward, and this well-behaved dog didn't block his path. The path narrowed ahead, and the houses grew more dilapidated. Some seemed no longer used as residences, with machinery inside—perhaps farm equipment needed by the village. Beyond the dog, the village also had kittens and a rooster strolling leisurely. The path ended at a fence and a locked gate, likely marking a private orchard. Lin Yuhui glanced inside before turning back.
Returning to the distinctive white arched gate courtyard, Lin Yuhui admired it once more from the opposite bank of the small river. He regretted not bringing his camera—such time-honored local scenery held great value for documentation. Yet the spirited young man who once carried a 135 film SLR to capture beauty was no longer there, replaced by the weight of too many years and setbacks.
As Lin Yuhui turned back onto the main path, he noticed the black dog had silently followed him. Turning to look at it, he felt a pang of emotion. Doggie, doggie, this is our last meeting in this lifetime. As if understanding his thoughts, the dog lowered its head, trotting over with little paws tapping, then passed him, as if leading the way for his departure.
It was the season when oranges ripened, and the area was dotted with orchards offering fresh, affordable fruit. Lin Yuhui bought dinner and oranges, returned to his dorm, ate, and then connected to the WiFi from the office building across the way. He munched on oranges while watching the Formula 1 Turkish Grand Prix, naturally tuned into the commentary on Shanghai's Five Star Sports channel.
It was a thrilling rain-soaked standing start. Though the rain wasn't heavy, the freshly laid asphalt made the track extremely slippery. The Ferrari cars were struggling, but Vettel, starting from eleventh, gained eight positions within just a few corners. Lin Yuhui respected this driver's rain skills—back when he first entered F1, driving the Red Bull junior car, Vettel had delivered several stunning performances in wet races.
This year's Mercedes cars held a significant advantage, yet they seemed unsettled at this circuit. Red Bull's Verstappen was hot on Vettel's tail but couldn't pass—the track was simply too slippery. His rain-race prowess had been proven at the 2016 Brazilian Grand Prix, and Lin Yuhui believed he had reached the same heights as Senna and Schumacher.
Copying Mercedes' 2019 race strategy, they ran at the front, seemingly well-suited to wet conditions.
Oranges are sweet and sour, refreshing to eat—just don't overindulge or you'll ruin your teeth.
After a dozen laps, racing lines emerged. Yet unlike most track surfaces, this one seemed coated not just with water but an underlying oil film. Even as the rain tires expelled water, the asphalt offered less grip than anticipated. Verstappen followed Vettel, repeatedly attempting wider outside lines through corners like Schumacher in the 90s, but the track was too slippery—the outside offered no better grip.
As the race progressed, the track gradually dried, yet slick tires remained unsuitable. This circuit's inherent slipperiness persisted. However, the changing surface allowed Mercedes' performance to gradually emerge, with Hamilton steadily building his lead.
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Lin Yuhui acknowledges Hamilton as an excellent driver but dislikes him personally due to his involvement with Black Lives Matter. Lin strongly opposes the ideology of white liberals. Nevertheless, he recognizes Hamilton's profound respect for Schumacher.
Leclerc is a fast driver, but his speed comes from excessive risk-taking. While he's slightly quicker than his teammate, Lin Yuhui doubts he could maintain that pace and consistency under the pressure of a Ferrari. Sure enough, Leclerc made a mistake late in the race—perhaps too greedy or aggressive—and his third-place finish was snatched away by teammate Vettel.
After watching the thrilling race, Lin Yuhui followed his routine: washing his face, feet, and socks before heading to bed.
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and then Add to home screen.