Little Mountain Stream

The insects surged like a wave, and in an instant, all Song Weishi could see were cockroaches taking flight in dense swarms.

She wore glasses and had her whole head wrapped up, but the sensation of roaches crawling over her through the thin fabric of her clothes still made her feel like she was dying.

She could only pedal faster and faster, not caring whether the others could keep up. After cycling several kilometers, the cockroaches in the next area gradually thinned out.

They didn't stop at that service area—likely the food there had bred the roaches, causing the infestation. Absolutely terrifying.

The group stopped by the roadside, picking off the remaining cockroaches clinging to their bodies before moving on. Even though the roaches were gone, the disgust lingered. Song Weishi felt she reeked, utterly foul.

She yearned for a proper bath, but conditions didn't allow it. She could only hold her breath and keep pedaling toward the next destination.

Apart from some poorly maintained township roads, the national highway here was in decent shape.

Cycling wasn't too difficult. After all the bumpy travel, they agreed on the next rest stop.

It was a small scenic area, just off the highway and about two kilometers further. Little Mountain Stream had good tree cover, which should be a bit cooler than the roadside.

Likely no one would venture to such a remote, foodless spot on the outskirts—it seemed like a good place for a mid-journey break.

Xie Huiying had been here before, and she said it was less of a scenic area and more of a small park. Tourists came with high expectations, only to find the reality didn't match the photos.

There was only one genuinely pretty spot, hyped endlessly by bloggers; it wasn't worth comparing to a theme park in the city center.

Travelers lured by the beautiful pictures were equally disappointed, posting the true size of the place online, which drew widespread warnings and a storm of criticism.

So the spot cooled down as quickly as it had heated up. The facilities the government had hastily built barely operated for a few days before being completely abandoned.

By the time they parked their bikes under the wooden bridge, the sky was faintly brightening. The dense canopy blocked the sunlight entirely, yet didn't hinder the view at all—it was bright and beautiful.

The sprawling shade rolled like waves of green, making the corridor brim with life. Standing there, it felt as if one were a tree growing freely, surrounded by rippling verdure, clear skies, and drifting clouds—naturally soothing.

The corridor stretched dozens of meters. Even without careful maintenance, the surrounding trees thrived, forming a sea of green where tender leaves glistened with spring vitality in the sunlight.

Many bloggers had set up their cameras to film in this rest area. It was indeed the only beautiful spot here—the hype wasn't entirely unfounded.

Song Weishi stood for a while and felt her mood lift. It would be quite nice to stay here, but the place couldn't accommodate many people. This one spot was only worth a short visit; everywhere else felt dull and repetitive. After spending so much time and effort to get here, the disappointment was understandable—no wonder people complained so bitterly.

The aunties came up, carrying little luggage. There weren't even any cars here, let alone people, so leaving their belongings below was no concern.

They sat down on the wooden platform. Given the recent cockroach attack, they didn't want to dirty their blankets needlessly, so they lay directly on the ground.

Song Weishi wandered around and spotted a drink vending machine and a public restroom.

The drinks in the machine had long since spoiled due to improper storage in the heat. The restroom smelled a bit rank from lack of cleaning.

Still, the smell was tolerable. With so few people around, the air was fresh, and Song Weishi felt herself relax completely.

She and Sister Chen did a sweep of the Little Mountain Stream scenic area. The small waterfall by the platform had long dried up; the rocks above were whitened and cracked, indicating the water had been cut off for quite some time.

The place was named Little Mountain Stream because it had once had abundant water, mostly from mountain springs. She hoped to find a water source to wash up.

Even if she couldn't, she'd find somewhere to use water from her space for a rinse. It was just too disgusting; she wouldn't be able to rest tonight without washing.

Xie Huiying clearly had the same idea. She and Sister Chen split up to search for water.

Song Weishi observed the surrounding trees, trying to determine where water might be.

While she was looking, she heard Sister Chen call out in delight, "Everyone, come quick! I found water!"

The others, who had been sprawled on the floor, scrambled to their feet and headed toward Sister Chen.

She was deeper in the corridor's foliage. Pushing aside the lush leaves, Song Weishi saw a stone trough.

The water flow was steady, spilling over a half-finished channel and seeping straight into the soil.

The trough was level with the ground, with an opening only the size of a mineral water bottle, where spring water bubbled up continuously.

At first, everyone was thrilled, but their joy quickly faded. The flow was so small that they could only scoop up a bit by hand or lie down to drink directly. Without tools, they couldn't collect any meaningful amount.

Regular water bottles wouldn't fit in the opening. They tried squeezing them flat and inserting them, but each time they only managed a tiny amount—hardly worth the effort.

The other option was stuffing clothes in to soak and wringing them out, but no one's clothes were clean, and the idea of putting them in there was off-putting. So they could only slowly collect a little water to drink.

The trough was large and embedded in the ground; digging around it would take too much effort, so they abandoned that idea.

It was maddening to sit by such a clear spring and not be able to use it.

Song Weishi thought about checking the restroom for a rubber hose—maybe she could use the water flow to siphon some out.

There was a rubber hose, but it had cracked and was beyond use.

Song Weishi sighed, pondering what to do.

Her gaze fell on the drink vending machine. The water bottles inside were still intact—the slender Wansui Mountain spring water bottles suddenly seemed like saviors, gleaming in the machine.

She quickly retrieved them. The bottles were warm to the touch. When she unscrewed the cap, the water had no smell, but Song Weishi was cautious and didn't dare drink it. To be safe, she poured it all out.

But she didn't dump it there. Bottles in hand, Song Weishi went back to inform the others.

"I found a way to get water. Does anyone have a bigger container?"

A short-haired auntie immediately raised her hand: "Me, me, me! I have one, Xiao Song. It's in my luggage. Do you need it? I'll go get it now."

Song Weishi nodded. "Yes, bring something big. We can all take a bath."

Guo Li's big container was the plastic bin she used for her luggage—a square box nearly a meter tall.

She usually strapped it to the back of her cart. It was more spacious and practical than a suitcase, and lighter too.

Once the container arrived, Song Weishi quickly set to work making a tool.

She poured the water from the bottle into the bin, then took out a knife and poked a hole in the bottle's bottom. From her space, she retrieved a carpenter's ink marker.

The ink marker consisted of a long string connected to a metal cone at the bottom. She threaded the string through the bottle, and the cone below fit snugly in the bottle's mouth.

When the bottle was lowered in, the cone's weight would sink it to the water's bottom, and the bottle would quickly fill up. Pulling it back up, the cone blocked the mouth, and a full bottle was retrieved in no time.

The entire process of filling and retrieving took about ten seconds, and there was no need to bend over—it was practically a water-fetching marvel. Everyone cheered with excitement. Since the site had been under construction, all materials were readily available, and no one questioned where her ink marker had come from.

Song Weishi bathed first. The spring water carried a slight chill, pleasant against her skin as it flowed over her, making every part of her body feel relaxed and stretched out.

After fetching water, everyone showered and washed their hair—this was definitely one of the most comfortable days they'd had in days.

Song Weishi also washed her clothes. In this heat, they didn't need to wait long; they dried almost immediately.

The aunties kept busy too, washing away days' worth of dirty laundry. This was a once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity; they might not encounter this much water again anytime soon.

After all, they were still far from the sea.

Once everything was stored away, they pulled out blankets and made their beds on the rest area floor nearby. The weather remained scorching, the sun blazing, yet never had they slept so peacefully.