One afternoon, while people were out picking watermelons, Guoqing put down his rice bowl and ran off again. Grandma felt something wasn’t right, so she quietly followed him.
At the Yang River railway bridge, a cloud of white smoke rose as a train roared past with a loud whistle. Just then, a man came hurrying by, with a long whip in his hand. Grandma went up to him and asked: “Comrade, what happened?” The man said: “I was driving a cart to the county seat to pick up fertilizer. I had a young mule with me, but when it saw the train, it got spooked and took off running. It vanished in the blink of an eye!”
