Fancy Bread Slice and Muddy Road
· 7 min read
In Beijing's spring, the wind is still the same old story – not too strong, not too weak, but it loves kicking up dust, getting in your eyes. Old Liu hunched his neck, pedaling his 'Flying Pigeon' bicycle – the kind where everything rattles except the bell – towards that newly opened 'He-something-Ma' supermarket. His wife had mentioned yesterday that their neighbor, Old Mrs. Zhang, had bought some kind of 'imported, especially soft' bread there. She told him to go check it out too, and while he was at it, grab a couple of slices to try something new.