'SEE YOU MORNING' 077 The Reappearance of an Old Friend

The next morning, HR Wu Yaying found Lin Yuhui and first processed his onboarding procedures in the lobby of the office building.
The first floor consisted of a full-length hall running the length of the building, with only a few meeting rooms.
One side displayed company product models, while the other featured an open discussion area.
Lin Yuhui’s design department was on the third floor; the second floor seemed to be meeting rooms.
All the design department staff worked in one room—not small, but crowded with many people, so one could imagine the situation during seasonal weather changes.
And so his work began.
It was an incinerator company specializing in organic waste gas treatment.
After selling equipment to clients, they needed layout construction and corresponding piping, requiring relevant design drawings.
This was familiar territory for Lin Yuhui, and soon Friday had passed.
Over the weekend, following his habit, Lin Yuhui went out to familiarize himself with the surroundings and take a walk.
This area was all industrial zone, with major divisions separated by roads.
Walking north along the block roads to their end, Lin Yuhui discovered a small riverside village.
This wasn’t strange—Shanghai’s structure is defined by its water network—but what was novel were the several pleasure boats moored in the river.
They were colorful fiberglass rowboats, red, green, blue, abandoned for years with faded hulls.
Lin Yuhui found it interesting, evoking a nostalgic charm, and walked further along the cement-covered path by the river.
There was also a stone bridge spanning both banks.
On the opposite side, one house stood out: a courtyard wall faced with white tiles, a rounded archway gate, potted flowers at the entrance, and a large, lush tree inside, seemingly witnessing the passage of time in this courtyard.
The notice board at the bridgehead was covered with anti-COVID-19 propaganda.
The village had few houses, and even fewer permanent residents—just a scattering of elderly people.
At that moment, a black dog trotted over from the path ahead.
Lin Yuhui watched its movements closely, unsure of its intentions or if it might be aggressive.
When it stopped before him, appearing calm, it lifted its head and sniffed in Lin Yuhui’s direction—a typical canine identification method.
Lin Yuhui chuckled inwardly, thinking, "I haven't showered in a week; I must reek, and you still come to sniff me."
The dog remained peaceful, neither barking nor approaching too closely.
After sniffing, it turned its head toward the small stone bridge, presenting its rear to him.
This reminded Lin Yuhui of twenty years ago, also a black female dog, kept at the private house rented by the workers' canteen of a project department.
The first time he ate there, that dog had also uniquely presented its rear to him upon his arrival.
Lin Yuhui couldn't help but wonder if, in the cycle of life, he had perhaps been a dog in a past life, which was why female dogs favored him.
Even funnier, they were all local black dogs—no other kind did this.
Lin Yuhui walked around it and continued forward; the good dog didn’t block his way.
Further ahead, the road narrowed, and the houses grew more dilapidated.
Some no longer seemed residential; there appeared to be processing machinery inside, perhaps agricultural equipment used by the village.
Besides the dog, there were cats, and large roosters strolling leisurely.
The path ended in a fence and a locked gate—it looked like a private orchard.
Lin Yuhui peered inside briefly, then turned back toward the main road.
Walking back past the distinctive white-arched courtyard, Lin Yuhui admired it from across the river, regretting not having brought his camera.
Such scenery, with its local character and history, was worth documenting.
But the spirited young man who once carried a 135 film SLR to capture beauty was gone, weathered by too many years of setbacks.
When Lin Yuhui turned back onto the main road, he realized the black dog had somehow run up behind him again.
Looking back at it, Lin Yuhui felt a pang of emotion: Dog, oh dog, this is our last meeting in this lifetime.
As if understanding his thoughts, the dog lowered its head, took small quick steps, and trotted over with a patter, then overtook Lin Yuhui, as if leading the way for his departure.
It was orange season, and there were many orchards nearby with fresh, cheap fruit.
Lin Yuhui bought dinner and fruit, returned to his dorm, ate, then mooched off the Wi-Fi from the office building opposite while eating oranges and watching the Formula 1 Turkish Grand Prix, commentated by Shanghai’s Five Star Sports channel.
It was a thrilling wet start—the rain was light, but the newly laid asphalt made the track extremely slippery.
Ferrari’s car was truly underwhelming, yet Vettel, starting eleventh, gained eight positions within a few corners.
Lin Yuhui respected this driver’s wet-weather skill; when he first entered F1, driving for Toro Rosso, he had delivered several stunning wet-weather performances.
Mercedes had a huge advantage this year, but they seemed uncomfortable this race.
Max Verstappen of Red Bull was glued to Vettel’s tail but couldn’t pass; the track was too slippery.
His wet-weather prowess had already been proven at the 2016 Brazilian Grand Prix.
Lin Yuhui believed he had reached the same level as Senna and Schumacher.
Meanwhile, the Racing Point cars, copying Mercedes’ 2019 design, ran at the front—they seemed perfectly suited to the wet conditions.
The oranges were sweet and tart, refreshing to eat, though one shouldn’t have too many, lest one’s teeth go soft.
After a dozen laps, a racing line emerged, but unlike most tracks, the surface here seemed coated not just with water, but with an oily film beneath it.
Even with full wets displacing the water, there was less grip than expected on the asphalt.
Verstappen followed Vettel, constantly probing wider lines through the corners, much like Schumacher in the nineties, but the track was too slick; the outside offered no extra grip.
As the race progressed, the track gradually dried, yet slicks were still unsuitable—the track’s nature remained treacherously slippery.
However, the changing conditions allowed Mercedes’ performance to shine through, and Hamilton gradually took the lead.
Lin Yuhui acknowledged he was an excellent driver but didn’t like him personally because of his involvement with BLM; Lin Yuhui strongly opposed that "woke" Western leftist ideology.
Still, he recognized that Hamilton held great respect for Schumacher.
Leclerc was a fast driver, but his speed came from excessive risk-taking.
Although faster than his teammate, Lin Yuhui doubted he could maintain that speed and stability under Ferrari’s pressure.
Sure enough, near the end, Leclerc made a mistake—too greedy or aggressive—and his teammate Vettel inherited third place.
After the exciting race, Lin Yuhui followed his routine: washed his face, feet, and socks, then went to sleep.