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Summer in Beiping is humid and hot. Crowd gathered on the street fanned themselves with whatever object they could get a hold on while others squinted their eyebrows accusively at the blazing sun and muttered under their breath before returning their attention back the real purpose of them visiting the day market.
Pushing past the hored of humans hounding the market place and apologising profoundly to the defensive " "heys" a young man finally find his way to the exit of day market. His whole frame is covered with dirty sweat. The pale ghostly complexion in face might gave someone the idea of that this youngman is lack of nutritious food but the prominent dark circles on under his hooded eyes have another tale to tell. The black over jacket clinging into his body look old and musty, back loose pants that he rucked up earlier is now pooled below his feet, hindering the steady flow of his steps.
The tram was already over packed as he rushed inside. Voices grunted in disapproval and hands pushed his frame when he tried to make a space for him. All through the suffocating journey Wang yibo hold into the perfect line of wooden box that covered in soft clothes. When the tram slowly halt he rushed outside and almost ran into the cargo cart pulled by two ruggedy middle aged men. They spit onto the ground and give an earful for yibo. After another round of bowing and apologising they men finally let him go.
This constant apologizing almost become a second nature to him. If he still wanted to held onto the raggy bed on the corner of the kitchen and the scare amount of food provided him by the house of "moon tower " he must feel apologetic for everything, even to his entire existence.
" Moon Tower" is the name the entire city celebrates wholeheartedly. A group of talented native Peking opera artists who glorified their city name widely across the country. Men with power and position from faraway land will willingly travel miles to witness the renowned glory of their act. Each day crowd will pile on the entrance like a clump of ants just to get their hands on one ticket. There is even a story floating around of one man who starved through weeks so they can afford the expensive ticket and ended up fall death on the middle of play. Although the story sounds a bit fabricated yibo never really felt searching for the truthfulness behind it.
Even today both men and women in dignified outfits and locals is seen queued outside the ticket box. The show is scheduled to start in exact fifteen minutes from now. Yibo could read the anxiousness lined upon the patrons that standing in the end of the line and the sheer excitement of the ones that earned the first few spots.
Yibo!!
Just as he about to take the back entrance a voice called him from across the street. Uncle shin waving his hand that holding a spatula. Yibo waved back almost hurriedly. His eyes darted towards the busy noodles shop. The customers look displeased who is mostly construction workers and cart pullers, probably beacuse of the delay in their order. He looked down on the perfect wrap of clothes in his hand and looked back at a troubled looking uncle shin and signalled that he will come back quickly.
