Homo Sapiens

After reading the introduction on Qingye Medical’s official website, Lai Xiaoni checked out the message board, which had a fair number of comments.

These included comments from patients who had undergone the surgical treatment, as well as some left by foreign tourists.

[Thank you, Qingye Hospital, for giving me back my sight.] —Yangon Angler

[(´｡✪ω✪｡｀) So this is what a vibrant, colorful world looks like.] —Gray Avatar

[When is Siam going to get this?] —Fairy Tail

[@Fairy Tail, just go to Dongzhi or Yangon for treatment yourself! It’ll definitely take years to import, and the price will only be higher.] —Lemon Tree

[This place is nothing but witchcraft! A bunch of scammers!] —Donnie the Chip Designer

[@Donnie the Chip Designer, I hear Silicon Valley is practically being taken over by Chinese and people from Tianzhu. You didn’t lose your job, did you?] —Mumbai Masala

[They’re definitely scammers here. I suggest you don’t use things like Lanf Anning; that company’s drug is completely ineffective.] —Strategic Misinformation Temp

Reading this, Lai Xiaoni couldn’t help but chuckle.

After all, since its price was reduced and its side effects significantly lessened, Lanf Anning II had become a hot-ticket drug that residents everywhere were scrambling to buy.

Many Westerners claimed they would rather die than use Lanf Anning, but in reality, they were secretly buying it up like crazy.

Many of her white classmates in Kangaroo Country had stockpiled quite a bit of Lanf Anning themselves.

Judging from Qingye Medical’s reputation, Lai Xiaoni didn’t believe they would resort to fraud; at worst, there might just be some side effects.

But compared to regaining sight and seeing colors properly, a few side effects were a price many people were willing to pay.

Of course, the fact that the Artificial Cornea only lasted five years was certainly a problem. After all, needing a replacement every five years at a cost of 10,000 Jin for both eyes was by no means cheap.

Lai Xiaoni didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she took a screenshot of the information, attached the website link, and sent it in an email to her color-blind classmate from Kangaroo Country.

She continued chatting with Fang Xinxin and her husband for over an hour.

After they had lunch, Lai Xiaoni caught an afternoon train to Red Rock Farm.

The train wasn’t particularly fast, traveling at about 90 kilometers per hour.

Outside the window, the scenery was a lush panorama of towering mountains. Occasionally, she could spot large, perfectly squared-off plateau farms and the River Valley Plain.

Red Rock Farm was about 83 kilometers from the Dongzhi City District, and the train arrived at its station in less than an hour.

She got off the train and walked out of the spacious station.

The sight that greeted her was a prosperous little city.

Rural areas had basically ceased to exist in Hongsawaddy. Through a large-scale consolidation of villages and towns, a series of small cities had been formed.

The Red Rock Farm before her was, in effect, a small town.

It was built in a mountainous area at an altitude of about seven hundred meters and had reached its current size through multiple phases of structural redevelopment.

Not far from the city was a small hydroelectric power station and a newly completed pumped-storage reservoir.

She glanced at a notice board on the side of the station, which displayed a map of Red Rock Farm.

In addition to the hydroelectric station and storage reservoir, the map showed a thermal power plant and a methane fermentation plant, the latter being built next to a pig farm.

It was hard to imagine that this small city, with a population of only 150,000, was raising 2.73 million pigs. The entire city’s development was centered around the pork industry.

The pig farm at Red Rock Farm was situated on the other side of a mountain, about 1.5 kilometers from the residential area, so Lai Xiaoni couldn’t see it.

Outside the train station, there were numerous shareable electric scooters.

She unlocked an electric scooter.

The city streets were lined with mango and osmanthus trees. The fragrance of the osmanthus blossoms was intense; luckily, she didn’t have pollen allergies.

As she passed a food street, the aroma of all kinds of pork dishes was almost too much for her to resist.

But dinner was still three or four hours away, so she popped into a specialty shop and spent 10 Jin on half a kilogram of pork jerky.

Sitting on a bench outside the specialty shop, Lai Xiaoni munched on the honey-glazed pork jerky and sipped a bottle of iced plum juice. It was pure bliss.

There were quite a few tourists buying things in the specialty shop.

Red Rock Farm’s specialty shops were filled with pork products, including pork jerky, low-salt ham, high-salt ham, lard candies, ham-filled mooncakes, bacon, pork sausage, canned pork, solidified lard, pig-bristle toothbrushes, pork bone concentrate, aspic, and frozen pork.

Lai Xiaoni noticed that the Hongsawaddy locals had a great deal of trust in these specialty shops. They were genuine local businesses, not tourist traps pulling a bait-and-switch.

The quality of the products, the prices, and the service were all excellent.

At least, that was her impression—it all felt authentic and comfortable. They introduced the local specialties without any aggressive, hard-sell tactics.

In reality, many tourists weren’t drawn by the low prices, but by the atmosphere and the novelty of the experience.

After all, while the products in these shops were a bit cheaper than in a supermarket—practically factory prices—the difference wasn’t astronomical.

For example, 500 grams of pork jerky cost 10 Jin at the local specialty shop, whereas it cost 12 Jin at an outside supermarket.

A tourist’s transport fare to get here would easily be tens of Jin. They weren’t coming all this way to buy local goods just to save one or two Jin; most people were simply enjoying the experience.

Although the three major conglomerates could be unscrupulous in their pursuit of profit, that didn’t mean they didn’t value their customers.

After all, good service was what brought repeat customers.

If they left tourists feeling exhausted and stressed, it would just be a one-time deal. People came here on vacation to relax, not to be aggravated and scammed.

In this regard, the three major conglomerates did an excellent job, making all visitors feel right at home.

Lai Xiaoni had traveled through more than a dozen cities on her trip and hadn’t encountered a single problem.

No wonder so many tourists who visited Hongsawaddy found the place so unforgettable.

As she took a bite of another large piece of pork jerky, the pleasant melody of a violin reached her ears. She turned to look toward a small park not far away.

A young man in a gray jacket was playing an unfamiliar tune on his violin next to one of the park’s barbecue pits.

A few other young men and women sat on wooden benches near him, enjoying the evening on the high plateau.

The setting sun filtered through the gaps in the trees. The combination of the high altitude and the mountain breeze made the evening air pleasantly cool.

Lai Xiaoni found herself captivated by the sight and the people before her. She was lost in the moment until the last wisp of the melody was carried away by the mountain breeze, and she awoke as if from a dream.

The sun sank lower, painting the layered mountain forests with sparse strokes of gold.

On the river, several transport ships moved back and forth. Some entered the canal lock, while others were moored at the docks. The sharp, piercing sound of their horns echoed through the valley.

The neon signs and streetlights began to flicker on.

Charcoal was already glowing in the small park’s public barbecue pits. The smell of the Maillard reaction wafted through the air as fat sizzled over the hot coals.

The young man who had been playing the violin turned on a small speaker. As he grilled some meat, he began to sing in a husky, deep baritone:

”The summer evening breeze carries the mountain cool…”

”The rushing river mixes with the fresh scent of grass…”

”A letter from afar, filled with a mother’s longing…”

”Oh, life! It’s like the ever-flowing Salween River, always full of twists and turns…”

The style, a mix of Hokkien folk and East Japanese enka, made Lai Xiaoni feel like she was a child again, listening to the old vinyl records her father collected.

In her idle moments over the past few days of travel, she had listened to some of Hongsawaddy’s local music and had even downloaded a number of local TV shows and movies.

Overall, her first impression of Hongsawaddy’s culture and entertainment scene was quite positive.