Popping open the trunk, Wang Jue pulled out a folding bicycle and dragged it to the roadside, unfolding it completely. He then fished a wad of cash from his jacket pocket and pressed it into my hands.

I was slightly bewildered, unsure what he meant. He, however, remained unhurried, taking out a notebook to scribble down plans while instructing me, “The highway is jammed; we can’t drive back as originally planned. We’re quite close to Wangcheng Airport from here. Follow the route on the map, cycle to the airport. The next flight to Xiangcheng departs in an hour. You use thirty minutes to cycle there, and another half hour for tickets and security. The flight to Xiangcheng is only forty-five minutes. Once you land, grab a cab straight to the hospital; you’ll make it.”

Hearing this, my eyes lit up! Wang Jue was indeed formidable; whenever such crises arose, it was his calm and measured thinking that provided the solution.

“There might be one small issue. The ** is in that small bottle. Keep the bottle in your upper pocket and walk through the security gate. If they don’t check, great. If they do, just say it’s medicine you carry with you, and take a sip for the security personnel to see.” With that, Wang Jue tore out the map page he had drawn on, folded it neatly, and slipped it into my jacket pocket. He then pointed toward the road signs, explaining the general direction and distance.

I committed every word Wang Jue spoke to memory. After thanking him and confirming that the money, ID, small bottle, and map were all on me, I mounted the tiny bicycle and pedaled furiously toward the airport.

Cycling a miniature bike over a long distance is an arduous task. I usually ride bikes with big 26 or 28-inch wheels; Wang Jue’s pocket-sized contraption had wheels no larger than 18 inches and no gears! Heaven knows where he sourced this treasure; most guys wouldn’t be caught dead on such a thing.

Normally, one full rotation of the pedals would propel the bike four or five meters forward; this baby only managed one or two. Compounded by days of exhaustion and lack of sleep, my legs felt completely useless—the degree of suffering is unimaginable. My legs felt heavier with every push, slowing down until they felt weighted with lead.

Gritting my teeth against the sun, I pedaled desperately forward. I only managed to cover half the distance before I was gasping for breath and my legs ached too much to lift. I desperately wanted to abandon the bicycle and walk the rest of the way, but checking the time—the plane was leaving in forty-something minutes—forced me to grit my teeth harder and keep pedaling furiously.

Once past the area congested by the traffic jam, the road conditions leading to the airport were excellent. Cars whizzed past me one after another; many were taxis. A sudden idea struck me. I hopped off the bicycle, stood by the roadside, and made the universal gesture for a taxi.

In less than two minutes, a cab pulled over. Although it had a passenger, the driver was willing to take me since I was also heading to the airport, and the current passenger didn’t object. I folded the bicycle, jammed it into the trunk, and settled into the taxi racing toward the airport.

The ride was infinitely easier. With the cool breeze from the window and music playing softly on the radio, we reached the airport in just seven or eight minutes. The next flight was still undergoing security checks. I bought my ticket, passed through the security gate exactly as Wang Jue had arranged, the medicine tucked safely away, and boarded the plane. Suddenly, a saying surfaced in my mind: When mountains end and rivers run dry, one suspects there is no path ahead, yet a village emerges in the willows and flowers. I didn’t know how my older sister was faring, but I knew we would both weather this calamity! I had faith in her and in myself.