The 888th Trip: The Kingdom of Misfortune (1)

A Father, Two Children, and a High-Speed Rail Fantasy Journey That Lasts Only Twelve Minutes Chapter 1: Hide the Tickets Well, Dad Said Taipei Main Station's B1 always carries a scent mixed with coffee and disinfectant. The fluorescent lights overhead are as white as a dentist's office, the arrows on the signs are dense, and the crowd slides down like red beans poured into a funnel, quiet yet hurried. Chen Jiande stood before the ticket gate, fanning out the three tickets like a poker hand, then stacking them back and tucking them into the innermost pocket of his jacket, a pocket even his wife didn't know about. "Dad, your expression looks like you're smuggling drugs," said Chen Xiaokui. She was eleven years and eleven months old, 152 centimeters tall, carrying a backpack heavier than she was, filled with three fantasy novels and a ballpoint pen that had run out of ink. "This is called precise calculation," Chen Jiande said, lowering his voice. "Child tickets are half price, the standard is under 150 centimeters. You—" "I'm 152." "You're wearing flats today." He straightened his younger son's backpack. "Doudou, what are you responsible for?" "Eating." Chen Doudou, eight years old, had six packs of instant noodles, two bottles of Yakult, and a crumpled point-collection card in his backpack. He thought for a moment, then added, "And watching my sister get scolded." "Excellent, clear division of labor in the team." Chen Jiande clapped his hands. "Let's go." On the platform, a line of people stood behind the yellow line. The text on the electronic signboard scrolled, then suddenly stopped: The 888th Trip To Zuoying 09:21 This train is the most honest train of the day (To be continued)