A few people approached from not far away, each holding a leaf taller than a person, like a giant banana fan. Those were leaves from ancient ginkgo trees, now astonishingly large.

There was also a young man carrying a fruit as big as a washbasin. He was struggling; it was a ginkgo nut, pale yellow all over.

“Did you pick those?” someone asked in surprise.

“How could we? We picked them up over there.”

They pointed into the distance.

The ginkgo trees were enormous, with some branches stretching out overhead, already reaching this side. There were fallen leaves and fruits on the ground.

“Many locals are preparing to leave. They’re uneasy and anxious,” someone said, having learned about the situation.

“The train has been stopped for so long and still isn’t moving. I want to know what’s happened up ahead. This isn’t the first time, either.”

Some people couldn’t wait any longer, growing very agitated.

Up to now, the attendants still hadn’t explained what was going on.

Henry Clark nudged William Carter's arm and whispered, “Brother, I feel like something’s wrong. All these years, nothing’s ever happened on this railway. Today is just too strange.”

“Let’s hope we can leave soon,” William Carter nodded.

More than an hour passed. Many people were restless and could wait no longer before the train finally started up again, at last leaving this place.

“Thank heavens, we’re finally leaving,” an old man let out a long sigh of relief. In fact, many people felt as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

In the distance, dark clouds rolled in. With a crack, a bolt of lightning struck down. The weather was changing far too quickly.

In the blink of an eye, a torrential rain was about to fall.

Suddenly, the whole area darkened.

Fortunately, they were all on the train.

“Oh my god, why is it glowing over there?” someone cried out in shock. Through the glass window, they could see a faint green light enveloping the giant tree in the distance—hazy and terrifying.

The tree was swaying, looking somewhat eerie amid the thunder and lightning.

Was it being illuminated by the lightning, or was it glowing on its own?

Such a towering tree would most likely be struck down!

“Boom!”

Suddenly, people heard a loud bang. The giant tree was glowing, many branches snapped, and huge leaves fell.

Dark clouds covered the sky, making everything pitch black except for that one bright spot, so it was visible.

One ginkgo fruit after another split open, and then a bizarre scene unfolded: they floated through the air like dandelion seeds.

The falling fruits emitted a hazy light, with silvery-white fluff, drifting away like tiny umbrellas.

“Is that a ginkgo tree or a dandelion?!” Fat Henry gulped hard, his throat dry, because the scene was so extraordinary.

Inside the carriage, people were dumbfounded. The sight was so mystical, it made their hearts race—utterly unbelievable!

After the seeds had scattered everywhere, the ancient tree fell silent amid the thunder and lightning. Its branches steadied, no longer breaking, the whole tree standing tall.

Until the torrential rain poured down, drumming against the windows, blurring everything from view, people were still in a daze.

The train moved on, and nothing could be seen anymore.

“Brother, is it the world that’s gone mad, or is it us? What did I just see? How does it contradict everything I thought I knew?” Henry Clark said to William Carter.

He wasn’t the only one shaken; everyone on the train fell silent, unable to recover for a long time.

They had already left that place far behind, not knowing what might happen there, but feeling as if the world itself was restless, that everything had changed.

Many people lowered their heads, checking their communicators for news, hoping to find some clues.

But there was no news about the ancient ginkgo tree.

However, there were plenty of reports about other anomalies: in some places, rare animals thought extinct for a thousand years had been spotted; in others, ancient wells dry for centuries had begun to gush with sweet spring water.

All these omens were unusual, as if they were trying to reveal something.

“Purple clouds are flowing over Mount Wangwu—is that real or fake?” someone asked in astonishment.

The report was shocking, but judging by the comments from all over on the communicator, most people didn’t believe it.

After experiencing such strange events, many on the train were half-convinced, half-doubtful.

Soon after, another report said that the surface of Dongting Lake was shining brilliantly, with mist and white fog curling up, like a fairyland.

This sparked speculation and discussion among the people.

As time passed, the train had already left the storm zone and entered another region. The daylight was bright, a stark contrast to the darkness before.

An hour later, there was new information about the floating trees in space—clear satellite photos, reported both domestically and abroad.

Those trees were growing at an incredible rate, and botanists had confirmed that they were all species found on Earth, the same kinds that could be found on the ground.

How could they be growing, floating high in the sky? No one had offered any explanation so far.

There was no doubt that this train journey was extremely troubled, and by evening, it stopped again.

Moreover, there were no villages or shops nearby; it had stopped in the wild, not at a regular station.

People were dissatisfied, demanding the train attendants explain what was going on.