The afternoon sun was hot and intense, and the streets of the town seemed to be twisted by the heat wave. Mr. Wang pedaled his old tricycle slowly on his way home.

Uncle Wang’s tricycle is the kind commonly seen in small towns. The paint on the car body has long been mottled and peeled off, revealing the rusted metal inside. The rubber sleeve on the car handle is also severely worn, revealing the steel wire inside. The car compartment was filled with the waste he collected from the market today, including several flattened cans, several worn-out cardboard boxes, and some scattered plastic bottles. These waste products make a “clattering” sound from time to time as the tricycle bounces.

Beside the handlebars, there is a small fan tied up. The casing of the fan is light blue, covered in dust and stains, and the blades are also slightly deformed. When it rotates, it makes a “creaking” sound, like an old man struggling to breathe. This fan was picked up by Mr. Wang from a pile of scrap, repaired, and barely able to turn. Although it is old and worn, it can bring him a little comfort in this hot and humid weather.

Mr. Wang is a lonely old man who makes a living by collecting waste. He goes out early every day, shuttling through various corners of the town, searching for the abandoned ‘treasures’. His life is simple and difficult, living in a small and dim hut and eating simple meals. But he never complains, always with a simple and honest smile on his face.The tricycle continued to move forward, and the small fan also kept rotating. Sweat beads kept rolling off Uncle Wang’s forehead and dripping onto the handlebars. He would occasionally wipe a sweat off the towel around his neck and then continue pedaling. The wind blew over his wrinkled face, dried the sweat from his face, but couldn’t blow away the fatigue in his eyes.

When passing by a small shop on the street, Mr. Wang stopped. He took out a few crumpled coins from his pocket and bought the cheapest bottle of mineral water. He unscrewed the bottle cap, looked up, took a few sips, and then poured the remaining water onto a towel, wiping his face and neck. The cool feeling made him breathe a sigh of relief.

After resting for a while, Mr. Wang started pedaling his tricycle again. The small fan still faithfully rotates beside him, accompanying him. At this moment, the sun began to tilt westward, and a brilliant sunset glow appeared on the horizon. Mr. Wang’s figure was stretched out in the sunset glow.

His tricycle and small fan have also become a unique and warm scenery in the small town.In this ordinary town, Uncle Wang’s tricycle and small fan carry his life and hope, slowly moving forward on the road of time.