Chapter Two: Eternal Spring

Chen Tianyu’s idea was to travel the world on a shoestring, without bothering friends along the way.

Thus, when the two of them landed in Kunming, their first stop, there was no one waiting to greet them, which actually made things more relaxed. Laughing and chatting, they didn’t carry much luggage and hadn’t checked anything in. Upon leaving Changshui Airport, they went straight to the hotel they had booked in advance, dropped off their two suitcases and one backpack, and at last, the real journey began.

By now, it was already noon. Drawn by its reputation, the two of them made their way to a well-known restaurant on Dongsi Street called Jianxinyuan, famous online for its Yunnan rice noodles in chicken broth—"Crossing the Bridge Rice Noodles." These days, the old saying “good wine needs no bush” still holds, but with two new caveats: first, it must be findable online; second, there ought to be a queue at the door.

Times have changed, and so must our interpretations of old sayings.

Each of them ordered a bowl of chicken broth rice noodles. Chen Tianyu hadn’t expected much from such a humble dish, but when the waiter arrived with a large tray laden with bowls and plates, he was taken aback. Was “Crossing the Bridge Rice Noodles” really this elaborate?

Apart from a large bowl of chicken broth and a plate of thick rice noodles, the other seven or eight small dishes contained only raw ingredients. One plate was arranged with wafer-thin slices of chicken breast, pork tenderloin, and fish, all laid out in a hollow circle, with a tiny dish of raw quail egg set in the middle. Other small plates held wide strips of tofu skin, bean sprouts, pea shoots, chopped chives, and fish mint.

Chen Tianyu was astonished. “So this is ‘Crossing the Bridge Rice Noodles’?”

“Hillbilly, what did you expect?” Liu Zichen laughed.

Chen Tianyu asked curiously, “In my memory, the best part about Crossing the Bridge Rice Noodles was the pickled vegetables, sour bamboo shoots, and minced pork with fermented black beans… each bowl cost ten yuan. What would you call that—some kind of northeastern stew?”

“Stew, my foot! Been eating at too many street stalls, haven’t you? Now you’re at the birthplace of the real thing—how could it be the same?” While Liu Zichen spoke, she busied herself adding the toppings to the broth, and Chen Tianyu hurried to copy her.

Chen Tianyu grinned. “Just now I was complaining that thirty yuan for a bowl was too expensive, but now I see you get what you pay for.”

“Of course! You can’t compare these with those ten-yuan knockoffs. This is about savoring gourmet food—not just filling your belly.”

Chen Tianyu sighed, “I really should get out more. Otherwise, I’d stay so ignorant forever.”

“Now you realize how important I am, don’t you?” Liu Zichen said triumphantly.

“Absolutely! No question!” Chen Tianyu admitted, utterly convinced.

—

At Jianxinyuan, the two stumbled upon an unexpected piece of news: they had arrived just in time for the spectacular annual migration of seagulls, unseen for years. Millions of gulls crossed half of China to spend the winter in this city of eternal spring, transforming into one of the most remarkable local sights.

A chance encounter is better than a planned meeting; they immediately decided to head by taxi to Green Lake Park for some birdwatching.

When they arrived at this spot, which was hardly a tourist attraction, they realized they’d come to the right place. The lake was blanketed with flocks of white, lively sprites, and the vibrant scene swept away any hint of winter’s desolation, making their spirits soar.

On the shimmering water, groups of seagulls gathered—some perched, some gazing, some gliding. The rowboats moored along the shore were dotted with dense patches of white; a closer look revealed seagulls with snow-white feathers, black eyes, and red feet. They clustered in the trees, on the shore, by the pavilions—wherever the eye could see, there were birds. There must have been hundreds of thousands, if not more. The two were amazed!

From time to time, a dozen or so solitary gulls would fly overhead, but rarely did they see large flocks in flight unless startled. It seemed the birds had come here just to winter, not merely to forage. Clearly, the city’s mild climate was a powerful draw.

Even just the occasional group darting across the lake, or the playful, mischievous few, were a hit with tourists. The birds weren’t shy at all, often swooping low over people’s heads or even perching boldly on the railings, just a short distance away.

Curiosity piqued, visitors began to feed the birds—especially the children, who cheered with delight. At first, people rummaged through their bags for snacks or biscuits, but soon realized it wasn’t enough—the birds snatched up whole packs, leaving the children in tears.

Just as frustration was mounting, someone in the crowd began selling packages of bird food—small brown pellets cupped in paper packets. Strangely enough, the gulls flocked eagerly to him; some even perched on his shoulder, perfectly well-behaved.

Naturally, people flocked to inquire, and discovered these were for sale. Although it felt a bit like a setup, seeing the tearful children, most people bought a packet for fifteen yuan, which lasted a good while.

Where there are people, there is business—this saying never fails.

When one is willing to buy and the other willing to sell, it’s all fair game.

Liu Zichen was tempted to buy a packet, but as she hesitated, a stir arose in the crowd. A man was teasing the seagulls when, with a sudden swoop, one darted down for the food. But not only did it snatch the treat, it also, midair, lifted its tail and let fly a white streak—hitting the man squarely in the face.

At first, the man didn’t notice, only feeling a warm sensation. As he wiped his face, the crowd burst into laughter; then, realizing what had happened, he hastily tossed the bird food and searched for tissues, utterly flustered. The little mishap did nothing to dampen the crowd’s spirits—if anything, it added to the fun, and the bird food seller’s business boomed.

Liu Zichen shrank her neck, suddenly unwilling to try her luck.

Chen Tianyu teased, “What’s there to be afraid of, you coward? Didn’t you see the chance of getting hit is minuscule—one in a thousand, maybe one in ten thousand!”

Liu Zichen glared at him. “If you want to try, go ahead! Even one in a million, it’s still disgusting.”

Chen Tianyu laughed and tapped her nose. “Clean freak!”

Liu Zichen shot back with a laugh, “Maybe I should hang ten packets around your neck and see if your odds go up. You really do love a spectacle, don’t you?”

As she spoke, she turned her head—and jumped in fright. Right beside her was a monkey-faced character, making faces, with two long feathers stuck in his hair and a staff slung over his shoulder—a bizarre sight indeed.

She instinctively sidestepped. “Ah! What is that?”

Chen Tianyu burst out laughing, tears nearly coming to his eyes. “Hey, what are you afraid of? Sun Wukong wants to take a photo with you.” As he spoke, the monkey-faced performer eagerly nodded, scratched his head, and twirled his “golden staff” with great panache.

Once her nerves settled, Liu Zichen patted her chest. “I never imagined my idol, the Monkey King, would appear in real life and actually be so frightening!” She laughed, and upon closer inspection, the performer’s costume did resemble the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven. He was lean and agile, with bright eyes beneath golden foil, and a crimson cape fluttering in the wind.

To their surprise, the Great Sage spoke. “Miss, I haven’t had a single customer yet today—would you be so kind as to help me out?” The monkey gave Liu Zichen a mischievous wink, full of playful charm.

“Well, all right!” Delighted, Liu Zichen’s inner child emerged. “It’s not every day I get to take a picture with my idol. Tianyu, come on!”

Chen Tianyu was both amused and exasperated. “I give up. You really are something else—how old are you again?” Still, seeing Liu Zichen’s enthusiasm, he joined her, handed the camera to a passerby, and they took several photos together. Then, he snapped a few more of Liu Zichen and the Great Sage until she was fully satisfied.

She checked the photos carefully and was quite pleased. Paying sixty yuan, she received a final goofy pose from the Monkey King, who then went off in search of his next customer.

As the performer walked away, Chen Tianyu couldn’t help but say, “Don’t you think that was a bit expensive for a few photos?”

“It’s fine.” Liu Zichen ignored him, still happily scrolling through her phone. “Look at you—why so stiff in the pictures? You look terrible!”

As they were chatting, a large group approached. Chen Tianyu glanced up and was amazed to see all manner of deities joining the fun—Tang Sanzang, Pigsy, Sandy, Immortal He, Iron Crutch Li, Lu Dongbin, and even, to his amusement, the God of Wealth, swaying at the back.

He nudged Liu Zichen, who was absorbed in her phone. “Hey, looks like all of Monkey’s brothers and distant relatives have come for you. Want to keep going, rich lady?”

Liu Zichen spared a glance and was startled by the scene. Sticking out her tongue, she quickly replied, “Better not—the budget doesn’t stretch that far.”

Chen Tianyu hurriedly waved the costumed performers away, but they were not so easily dismissed. They began to cajole them, explaining that photos with them were only thirty yuan, and that the Monkey King had overcharged them. Take a few more and they’d even knock ten yuan off.

Liu Zichen’s face turned green with embarrassment. She shot Chen Tianyu an awkward glance, and with the “deities” persisting, the pair had no choice but to beat a hasty retreat.