"The textile mill is here, the textile mill is here, get off quick!" The ticket seller roared at the top of his lungs from inside the train carriage.,At this time, the capital city in Du Ruo's eyes bore obvious traces of the times. Most pedestrians wore clothes in black, gray, and blue. The buildings were low and short, with walls that were mottled and dilapidated. Occasionally, a small car could be seen driving down the street, but the ringing of bicycle bells was constant, light and pleasant to the ear.,"Okay," Du Ruo picked up her bag and walked gracefully into the door, "Thank you, Grandpa! But..."。