Chapter 54
Chapter 54
Jiang Li stepped into the silver-white subway car and reached up to grip a hanging strap.
It was the weekday morning rush, so finding a seat was nearly impossible. Luckily, the carriage wasn't packed tight; there was still a comfortable distance between strangers.
A short hiss of compressed air, and the left-side doors slid shut.
The train lurched into motion, jolting the entire car. Jiang Li caught the startled yelp of someone caught off balance—then felt movement on his arm.
He turned. A pair of pale, small hands had looped around his upper arm, and their owner swayed like a reed about to snap.
Kakayan's sense of balance had never been great. When she'd tried learning to ride a bicycle, she'd been the slowest learner he knew.
Thanks to her, Jiang Li had to clutch the strap even tighter to keep them both upright.
"There're straps above you," he said once the car steadied, tipping his chin toward the overhead rings.
It was tiring, after all, to balance for two.
"Mm, why bother..." Kakayan huffed, voice barely audible. "Holding you is easier."
Was it really?
Jiang Li offered a helpless smile and said nothing more.
Wind whipped through the carriage. Kakayan pressed her lips together, expression thoughtful. If she hadn't descended the long staircase just now, she would never have believed humans had dug tunnels this far underground.
Standing inside the belly of this iron serpent—this "subway"—she looked left and right without seeing an end. How many people did this thing carry every day? And the speed at which the serpent moved...
Kakayan swallowed. Only the ancient, continent-spanning teleportation arrays could rival this efficiency.
A few more stops passed.
The train reached the bustling heart of the city. More passengers boarded than disembarked, and soon the car grew crowded.
Kakayan tried her best not to lean into Jiang Li, but bodies pressed in from every side. When the train started again, inertia tossed her about like a drifting duckweed.
Before she knew it, she was pressed flush against Jiang Li, separated by mere breaths.
The rumble of the iron serpent, the howl of wind, the scattered murmurs of passengers—amid all that noise, every jolt brought her closer, until she could feel his breathing on her cheek.
She caught a faint scent in his exhale: sweet soy milk from breakfast laced with the savory aroma of meat buns.
Stealing a glance sideways, Kakayan found his profile sharp, handsome, and almost unbearably close. She could see the fine down on his skin.
Her hands still circled his arm; through the thin fabric of his sleeve she felt the warmth of his body.
Couldn't be helped. The train was packed, the swaying wild.
Yes, yes—no choice at all.
"There... there are so many people," Kakayan murmured, eyes darting away as if studying the crowd.
"Rush hour," Jiang Li said.
He remembered his own first months after graduation—modest salary, no money for taxis, shared-bikes too far. Every dawn he'd squeeze into the subway, standing all the way home after a long day.
Like a beast of burden, he thought.
"Jiangcheng Road. Please exit on the left. Passengers transferring to—"
The announcement yanked him back. This stop emptied in droves—probably all office workers nearby.
Jiang Li scanned the carriage and spotted two men in suits vacating seats not far away. He looked down, about to call Kakayan over, only to meet her furtive, meerkat-like gaze.
"A-hem."
Their eyes met. Kakayan's shoulders twitched; she snatched her hands back and coughed lightly into them.
"Seats free over there."
Jiang Li didn't mind. Empty seats disappeared fast. He pulled Kakayan along.
"When do we get off?" Kakayan asked once they were seated.
"Nine more stops." Jiang Li glanced up at the route map above the doors.
"I see..."
"So how's your subway experience?"
"Nothing special." She turned away to watch the GG-brand ads streak past the window.
Silence settled. Jiang Li idly studied the interior.
Two stops later, a woman in loose maternity clothes stepped aboard. Judging by her slight bump, she was only a few months along. Her side ponytail told Jiang Li she was definitely an expectant mother.
She looked troubled—no seats left. Every seated passenger stared at their phone, oblivious.
Jiang Li glanced at Kakayan. He'd been meaning to teach her proper modern values. Time to set an example.
Without hesitation, he locked eyes with the woman, stood, and gestured to his seat. She smiled gratefully, nodded, and sat.
Kakayan watched the whole exchange. She blinked up at Jiang Li, her violet eyes asking: Should I stand too?
He shook his head and motioned toward the woman's stomach. What had been invisible while standing became obvious once seated.
Kakayan formed a silent "oh" and nodded. Jiang Li could only hope the lesson stuck.
Seven stops left. With his stamina, standing all the way was fine; seats during rush hour were rarer than phoenix feathers.
The train lurched again. Caught daydreaming, Jiang Li nearly stumbled but caught the strap in time.
Movement on his arm—again.
He frowned. Those same pale hands were back.
"Why aren't you sitting?" he asked, wide-eyed.
"Following your lead," Kakayan replied, stifling a mischievous laugh as she let her weight rest on his arm.
Great. A long ride standing had just become a longer ride leaning.
Jiang Li rubbed his temples, exasperated.
"Looks like you didn't learn a thing."