Chen Ying slept comfortably and quietly went out the next morning. The snow melted a little, and the footprints near the train station were mottled like Van Gogh's paintings, and she was sipping on hot coffee and holding her cup in her hands to keep warm. The conductor hadn't come to work yet, and the office door was locked. She stood outside the station and waited, and saw the drooling young man near the residence. He beckoned to her, and as soon as he turned around, the red beanie hat disappeared into the crowd. He never asked her if she had ever eaten dog meat, and every time we met, he just smiled and gave her a seat. She didn't know where he got on the train or where he was going. She was queuing at the window, anxious to go to a strange city.

Oslo is the oldest of the five Nordic capitals, and its name means "Valley of God" in Old Norse, or "Foothill Plains". It's as medieval as Prague, and the surrounding mountains make the harbour city even more powerful. It's the birthplace of pirate legends and is full of Viking souvenirs that locals are proud of. Qin Hong once advised her not to go, it was too cold. She laughed, thinking that if she didn't go at this time, she wouldn't have a chance to see the polar night. She didn't contact Wang Yi or open his emails, and when she returned to Denmark, she permanently deleted them along with other spam ads. In the end, he simply asked her in the subject line of the email when she was going to Norway.

"Can't tell you." She looked at the headline and muttered to herself, deleting his email again.

She looked at her hand, the part of her ring finger that connected to her palm grinded into an oval-shaped callus. She couldn't remember why she had left the hard souvenir on her hand. After getting in the car, she found a window seat and opened the English version of "A Doll's House". She felt like she had run away like Nala, and she had to run far away. Underneath the script is her "The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism". After a previous trip, the book now became a comfort to her, and it didn't matter what it was about. It was enough for her to have it by her side.

Once again, the Danish landscape is rapidly disappearing, and in a moment the eyes are full of endless snowy fields. It's not like Germany, there are not even the occasional little houses, but there are a lot of books, gray-black, growing in clusters and clusters, like guards standing like tombstones in the white world. The cold air outside the window came down the glass, and she hurriedly put on her woolen gloves. Next to him was a middle-aged man wearing a suit-like jacket and tie. He opened the free newspaper provided on the train since he sat down, and he didn't turn a page after several stops in a row. The Scottish Shepherd who had been in the car with him sat in the middle of them. It looked at Chen Ying curiously, stretching its neck to sniff the buttons on her down jacket. She looked at it, occasionally patting it on the head.

The train first arrives in Gothenburg and then goes to Oslo. Chen Ying thinks that this is also a trip to Sweden. She struggled to look out the window, and the camera clicked non-stop. The shepherd dog was probably tired and lay on the ground with his head resting between his front paws. After a short stop, the train started again. The conductor began to distribute food, which was a special intermission for the Nordics.

"I think it might be hungry." Chen Ying looked at the dog and said. It now sat up straight, its tongue sticking out and staring at its master.

"You'll never be able to feed a dog." The gentleman next to him broke off half of the bread and stuffed it into the dog's mouth.

She smiled, remembering how Qin Hong used to feed Xiaobai. The cat stood upright on his lap and leaned to bite the flesh he clutched in his hand. It grabbed his hand with its front paws, nearly snapping his fingers. She hadn't seen the cat for more than three months, and her impression of its owner was a little blurry now.

On the way to Norway, they continued to chat. The man was Norwegian, home to visit relatives, and unlike other Nordics, he always wanted to know what the Chinese thought about whale hunting. He explained to her in detail the nutritional value of blubber and how to cook it to taste better. Before parting, he recommended several restaurants, and he was afraid that she would not remember them, so he deliberately wrote them down in Norwegian, and drew the nearest road crookedly next to the visit.

"Gotta try it." Before getting out of the car, he reminded her again, as if it was the number one priority in life.

She got out of the train station and walked to the beach. The sun rose in the sky, and the sparkling sea shook her eyes. She checked into the hotel near the port and went into the room to drop her backpack. She sat on her bed and watched the sea, and the ships in the harbor were busy getting in and out, and all sorts of sails were unloaded and raised. The dock workers were busy, shouting to move things to the shore.

Chen Ying hadn't seen such a busy scene for a long time. She stood in an unobtrusive corner and watched as the fishermen carried fresh fish out of the barn and stacked them on the shore in baskets. Many people gathered around the baskets, including tourists, children, and women who looked like housewives. She walked to the end of the shore. The water here is completely clear, and you can see the seaweed and shell fragments at the bottom at a glance. She took off her shoes and socks and put them in her hands and stood in the water.