2052, Thirty Years Of Sleep

"We're here, Laizhou City is ahead."

Chang Ping's voice was like a fairy sound, awakening the vitality of everyone in the car.

It is no exaggeration to say that, half of the 6-hour drive was bumpy. I would feel dizzy when I was awake looking at my phone or playing games, and I would be unable to fall asleep even if I wanted to sleep for a while. The whole trip was a torture.

Fortunately among the misfortunes, we didn't encounter any other accidents like car breakdowns or alien attacks on the road, and we arrived at our destination on time.

The sky was already dusk, and the dark steel jungle in the distance was lit up with little lights, like an isolated island in an orange-red ocean.

Well, maybe it's not appropriate to call it a "steel jungle". The perspective of this city actually looks more similar to the era before Yan Muyun's coma... similar to the urban-rural fringe.

Calling it a city is a bit flattering, calling it a town is a bit insulting. It's probably somewhere in the middle.

As soon as the car entered the city, Yan Muyun and others immediately felt that something was wrong.

Looking around, 60% to 70% of the shops on the street have signboards in both Chinese and South Vietnamese, and some even have only Chinese signboards. Pedestrians chatting on the street, and young people talking and laughing loudly can often hear Chinese without accent.

Yan Muyun had the illusion that he was not in South Vietnam at this time, but in a small county in China.

At this time, Changan, who was resting in the co-pilot, seemed to see the doubts in his heart, and said with a smile: "There is nothing surprising. Since our country and South Vietnam launched comprehensive cooperation more than ten years ago, South Vietnam has positioned Chinese as a It has become the official language alongside South Vietnamese. More and more Chinese businessmen are coming to invest here. Now people here have a consensus that if you want to have a decent future, you should learn Chinese well and look for opportunities to join Huaxia Company. Work."

Chang Ping, who was driving, also smiled and added: "It is conservatively estimated that 89% of the young generation in South Vietnam can speak Chinese. There is no need to worry about language barriers when living there. Even uncles and aunts in their forties and fifties may not know Chinese characters. But I can still speak a few words of Chinese.”

Yan Muyun was once again deeply aware of China's influence on neighboring small countries, and felt a little emotional for a moment: "It's true or not, back then we had English as a compulsory subject, and we didn't see many students learning English well."

"The investment is different, and the environment is also different." Changan explained with a smile: "Nowadays, schools are half forcing and half encouraging students to communicate in Chinese, and almost all teaching materials use Chinese characters. Nowadays, students probably only communicate with their elders at home. Only then did I speak South Vietnamese.”

"Oh." Yan Muyun nodded thoughtfully.

Indeed, learning the language environment is very important.

If you only count on the 40 minutes of large class classes every day in school to master a foreign language, it is basically a fool's errand. The hard work after class is the most important.

Unconsciously, the van gradually drove to a more prosperous neighborhood.

Colorful neon signs flashed around, and men and women wearing heavy makeup and revealing clothes stood in front of several stores.

"Here, gambling and other things are legal. Of course, we are absolutely not allowed to do these, otherwise we will be directly recorded for disciplinary violations and sent back to the country." The co-pilot, Changan, turned around with a mean look on his face. Smiling, he raised his eyebrows at the three junior students behind him: "But... you are not from the bureau, so no one here can control you."

"Chang'an." Chang Ping grabbed his younger brother by the back of his neck, pulled him back, and scolded: "Don't teach the younger generation badly."

Chang'an chuckled: "Just kidding, the three of them seem quite honest, and they probably don't have the guts."

After saying that, he turned around and narrowed his eyes into thin slits: "Am I right?"

If you are an ordinary young and energetic young man, you will be a little unconvinced by such a provocation.

However, Yan Muyun and Wei Min just nodded in agreement with honest and honest expressions. Yan Long, who had not spoken a word along the way, looked out the window and ignored each other.

Chang'an felt bored, so he sat back in his seat and stopped making trouble.

"Almost there."

Passing through the colorful city center, the van turned left and right and arrived at a place with a richer atmosphere of life. People walking on the street are middle-aged and elderly people as well as young people wearing casual clothes.

Driving a little further, we reached a relatively wide area, and the surrounding buildings began to become a little sparse. Only in the middle stood a building that looked like a Chinese government family compound from the 1980s and 1990s. There are high cement walls all around to isolate the outside world. There are three buildings in the courtyard, the middle one faces south, and the other two shorter buildings stand on the left and right side.

The van stopped in front of the gate. Chang An stuck his head out and greeted the guard: "We have received the people. Uncle Zhang, please take them in. My brother and I will return the van."

"Okay." The doorman is a gray-haired uncle who looks to be in his fifties. He has a Chinese character face and a bit of a beer belly. He looks honest and honest.

Yan Muyun and the other four got off the car one after another, and Lao Zhang ran out of the pavilion at the door and enthusiastically offered to help carry the luggage.

Wei Min smiled and declined: "No, no, there's not much, thank you."

Yan Muyun looked at the van going away and felt a little strange: "Isn't it enough to return the van alone? Why do the two brothers go together?"

Lao Zhang, who was leading the way, turned around after hearing this, with a strange smile on his face, but said nothing.

Wei Min noticed something strange about him and asked, "Excuse me, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Lao Zhang just laughed and shook his head, and then began to introduce the layout of the compound:

"The building on the left is the dormitory. The first, second and third floors are for support staff and civilians. The fourth, fifth and sixth floors are the dormitories for the official commissioners of the bureau. There is everything inside. If you want to do some activities, there are games on the first and second floors. room and fitness area. The building on the right cannot be entered casually. It contains materials and equipment, as well as some other important things... The largest building in the middle is our foreign mission. It’s the office of the bureau. We have about twenty official commissioners in total, but usually half of them are outside, so it always feels a little deserted..."

The group of people walked forward for some distance, and Lao Zhang suddenly stopped and waved his hand towards somewhere: "Hey, Captain Xing."

Yan Muyun looked up and saw a figure appearing on the second floor at some point. He was leaning on the railing, holding a cigarette in his mouth, looking down at his group of people.

The man looked to be in his thirties or forties, with an unkempt beard and droopy eyelids. On this dreary Southeast Asian summer night, he was wearing a brown jacket, which was a little worn and looked like it had not been washed for a long time.

But even Yan Muyun, who considered himself a straight man, had to admit that this man had a unique charm. If this decadent and melancholic uncle appeared in a nightclub or bar, there would probably be many young girls willing to listen to him telling stories about his past in bed.

It seems that Chang Ping's previous statement that many local girls with good family conditions, and even the daughters of several big business owners in Hanoi, are attracted to Captain Xing is not an exaggeration.

"Hey, Lao Zhang." The man raised his hand casually and said hello, his voice low and magnetic: "You are students from China, right?"

"Uh...yes." Wei Min nodded hesitantly.

"Stay in the bureau these days and don't run around. I will inform you when there is news." The man held the cigarette between his fingers and dusted it. Dots of fiery red stars floated down, but they were immediately extinguished in the hot night air.

"Xing Xiuxian, we all call him Team Xing, he is the oldest front-line specialist here." Lao Zhang introduced with a wry smile: "That's just his temper. He can ignore people he doesn't know and ignore them. It's not against you." ."

"I heard that he has worked here for more than ten years?" Wei Min asked curiously.

"Yes, after more than ten years, I am still willing to stay here, and I am not in a hurry to start a family..." Lao Zhang turned around with his hands behind his back and looked up at the place where the man had just left on the second floor: "Me neither Know what he thinks... No, no one knows what he thinks."