117, Anchor Point

May 25, 6:20 AM, Tuesday, clear.

In New York's Orlando Area, the sun had already risen, and the warm sunshine carried the freshness of the post-rain air, making it extremely refreshing.

A delivery truck slowly pulled into a parking spot.

Du Wei took out the taxi fare from his wallet and handed it to the driver, saying, "Thank you for bringing me back to New York."

The driver was a stout, middle-aged white man. He hesitated for a moment, only took one bill and said, "You gave too much, sir. I was supposed to take you to the North Brook District. I can't take so much money from you."

Du Wei did not insist, "Since it is so, then I wish you a happy life."

The driver smiled and said, "I wish you a happy life too."

...

Stepping on the solid road, Du Wei looked up at the sky.

It was a cloudless sky, and the sun shone brightly.