論壇

瑞克拖着那只磨损得露出内衬的旧旅行箱，靴子踩在伦纳德中央车站那被无数脚步磨得光滑可鉴的石质地板上，发出空洞的回响，空气中弥漫着煤灰、机油和人群拥挤在一起特有的温热汗味，巨大的拱形玻璃穹顶将冬日里本就吝啬的阳光滤成了惨淡的灰白色，投射在高耸的铸铁柱梁和那些行色匆匆、如同工蚁般穿梭的人影上；他穿过喧闹得如同集市般的人群，那些高声叫嚷着目的地的搬运夫、依依惜别抹着眼泪的情侣、以及一脸倦容夹着公文包的职员们，构成了这座钢铁巨兽腹内永不停歇的背景噪音，他循着悬挂在粗大铁链上的指示牌——「北向：史密斯行省专列」——找到了属于他的站台，那列被称为「北境寒风号」的钢铁长龙正静静卧在轨道上，庞大的蒸汽机车头如同沉默的巨兽，粗大的烟囱里偶尔逸散出几缕试探性的白烟，深绿色的车厢在站台昏黄的煤气灯光下显得庄重而冰冷，车厢连接处包裹着厚厚的防寒帆布，上面凝结着一层薄薄的冰霜；二等舱的入口处排着不算长的队伍，穿着藏青色制服、帽檐压得一丝不苟的列车员正一丝不苟地检查着车票，他那张被寒风吹得发红的脸庞上没有任何多余的表情，仿佛只是这庞大运输机器上一个精准运行的齿轮；轮到瑞克时，他递上那张用几枚宝贵的银币换来的硬质车票，上面清晰地印着「伦纳德至史密斯行省首府斯诺登，二等座」，列车员用戴着白手套的手指捏着票，目光在票面和瑞克脸上快速扫视了一下，伴随着一声短促而清脆的金属打孔声，车票被还了回来，留下一个规整的小圆孔，「祝您旅途顺利，先生，您的车厢在七号，请往前走。」 列车员的声音平板无波，瑞克点了点头，低声回了句「谢谢」，便拎起箱子，踏上了那冰冷的、带着防滑纹路的金属踏板，走进了二等车厢略显狭窄的过道，一股混合着皮革、陈旧布料和消毒水味道的温暖气息扑面而来，暂时驱散了站台上的寒意。

Rick, dragging the worn-out old suitcase with its inner lining exposed, stepped on the stone floor of Leonard Central Station, which had been worn smooth by countless footsteps, making a hollow echo. The air was filled with coal ash, engine oil and the unique warm sweat smell of the crowded people. The huge arched glass dome filtered the already stingy winter sunlight into a pale grayish white. It is projected onto the towering cast-iron columns and beams and the hurried figures that shuttle like worker ants. He made his way through the bustling crowd that was as noisy as a market. The porters Shouting their destinations loudly, the couples saying goodbye with tears in their eyes, and the staff with tired looks carrying briefcases made up the never-ending background noise inside this steel giant. He followed the sign hanging on the thick iron chain - "Northbound: The "Smith Provincial Special Train" - found its own platform. The steel dragon, known as the "Northern Cold Wind", was lying quietly on the tracks. The huge steam locomotive was like a silent beast, and the thick chimney, a few wisps of probing white smoke would occasionally escape. The dark green carriages looked solemn and cold under the dim gas light of the platform. The connection points of the carriages are wrapped with thick cold-proof canvas, on which a thin layer of frost has condensed. At the entrance of the second-class cabin, there was a not-so-long queue. The train attendant, dressed in a navy blue uniform and with his hat brimming down meticulously, was carefully checking the tickets. There was no extra expression on his face, which was red the cold wind, as if he were just a precisely running gear on this huge transportation machine. When it was Rick's turn, he handed over the hard ticket he had exchanged for a few precious silver coins. It was clearly printed "Leonard to Snowden, the capital of Smith Province, Second Class seat". The train attendant held the ticket with his fingers wearing white gloves and quickly scanned the ticket surface and Rick's face. With a short and crisp sound of metal being drilled, the ticket was returned. Leave a neat small round hole. "Wish you a smooth journey, Sir. Your carriage is No. 7. Please move forward." The train attendant's voice was flat and silent. Rick nodded and replied in a low voice, "Thank you." Then he picked up his suitcase, stepped onto the cold metal steps with anti-slip patterns, and entered the slightly narrow aisle of the second-class carriage. A warm smell mixed with leather, old fabric and disinfectant wafted towards him, temporarily dispelling the chill on the platform.