Green Hotel

Pudong Airport, it was past twelve o'clock in the middle of the night. Voice announcements in the plane call out the names of every passenger in an orderly manner. Everyone listened carefully to see who was lucky enough to get off first. After getting down from the boarding stairs, our left and right sides are our sanitized luggage, which are well organized. They naturally form a path to the transit bus.

The purpose of the bus is not to go to the terminal building, but to leave the airport directly. In my memory, enjoying this kind of treatment of getting off the plane and having a car waiting to go, is a spy in a spy drama, a political figure visiting another country, or a star who was finally signed by the team. Since my life doesn't seem to involve any of the above three scenarios anytime soon, I really didn't think it would be my turn. While crossing the empty Pudong Elevated Highway, I temporarily forgot about the next seven days of quarantine and allowed myself some excitement.

I sat in the front row by the window on the right, looking at the city scene in front of me, as if accumulating more real images in my mind to offset the monotony of hotel life in the next week. I took my phone and opened the AutoNavi map to compare our actual location and feel the thrill of the flow. On the bus, opposite me was a billboard advertising a mobile phone card that is convenient for those who have just entered the country and provides fast processing.

As I pulled over, I sensed the presence of other people. There was a police car ahead and we had been standing still on the side of the road for half an hour. Someone became impatient, stood up and walked to the driver's seat and asked him for an explanation. The driver didn't know what to say. It was two o'clock in the morning, everyone was exhausted, ignorant of all arrangements, and fidgeting in the car.

Through the car window, we saw a row of teams preparing to do nucleic acid. After stabbing them, it's us. Finally someone called us out of the car. The little boy sitting next to me fell asleep. His mother sat in the middle row of the bus. She has already got off the bus, and she can't go back if she wants to. Please wake up her son who hasn't gotten off the bus yet. Due to being close to him, I was assigned the task of waking him up.

I tried to pat the little boy a few times, but no response. "We're here," I whispered to him, slapping him twice. "Going to get off." The next sentence in my mind was "Going to get off to do nucleic acid", but I stopped my tongue in time. I really don't want to be the one who tells me to do nucleic acid.

A boy stood in the aisle of the bus, watching my failure to wake the little boy up close. "I'll do it," he said confidently, and took a step toward us.

"Hey, kid!" he said to the little boy in a slightly louder voice than me. "kid!". The children are still immersed in their dreams. The boy was puzzled and helpless.

From the back row, an uncle stood up and leaned forward, shouting: "Okay, get off! Get off! Go!"

Now, the little boy really woke up. The mother under the car looked up, waiting for the result. I nodded to her, indicating that the child was awake.

If you want to go to the nucleic acid sampling platform, you have to go up three steps first, as if you are mentally preparing for a sacred ceremony. My nose and throat were stabbed twice by the elder sister of the sampling station, and I then scolded God. The soul has been purified, and I am eligible to enter the door for check-in. On the transparent glass door, the white font of "GreenTree Inn GreenTree Inn" is engraved. I thought for a moment, did someone really dare to play homonyms and deliberately set the "Green Hotel" as a quarantine hotel? Is this considered high consciousness or shameless blasphemy?

"Sit down," the staff member in protective clothing told me, pointing to the chair opposite him. The scene was lively, and many people at a table were busy filling out forms and asking for room cards, and hurriedly took their luggage to take the elevator.

"Do you live alone?" The staff asked me at once, which made me feel a little lonely for some reason.

"Hmm," I told him. "one person."

I took the key card of room 818 to take the elevator and officially started my life at the Green Hotel.