The Price of In and Out

Old Li has been having the same dream lately. In his dream, he stands in front of a massive iron gate, with countless drug names engraved on it, arranged like tombstones. In his hand, he holds a prescription for an imported drug that his son, who has a rare disease, urgently needs. The iron gate slowly opens, revealing a row of empty shelves with only a few white labels that read "Domestic Substitute." Old Li wants to rush in, but he's held back by an invisible force.

He wakes up, drenched in cold sweat, as if he's been pulled out of the water.

His son, Xiao Ming, has been relying on this imported drug ever since he was diagnosed with a rare disease. But recently, the hospital posted a notice stating that due to "policy adjustments," the drug would no longer be covered by medical insurance, and public hospitals would no longer provide it. The notice also stated in small print: "Patients are advised to consult other channels or choose domestic substitute drugs."

Old Li ran to all the pharmacies he could, only to find that the drug had vanished, either priced exorbitantly or simply unavailable. He sat on the hospital bench in despair, watching the patients passing by. Their faces all bore different expressions, yet they all shared a similar numbness.

He pulled out his phone and opened a short video app. The algorithm pushed him news about "the increasing novelty of China's foreign trade." In the video, a well-dressed expert spoke confidently into the camera, his tone full of pride. He saw the comments section, where everyone was cheering for the country's strength. Old Li swiped past the video, and saw another one: an internet celebrity was live-streaming, recommending various "affordable and good products." Behind her were rows of dazzling goods, but none of the medicine he needed.

Old Li bought lunch for his son, and Xiao Ming devoured it. He looked at his son's pale face, feeling a heavy stone pressing down on his heart. He wondered, if Xiao Ming was the "new" mentioned in the news, then what would he be? Was he the old that was being replaced, or the dust that was forgotten?

To buy medicine for his son, Old Li began to try various ways of earning money that he once despised. At night, he set up a street stall, selling trinkets; during the day, he delivered food, braving the wind and rain. He even participated in some strange "check-in challenges," mechanically completing tasks on various apps for a few dollars in rewards.

Days passed, and Old Li felt like a screw trapped in a giant gear, operating in vain. He became taciturn, and even his dreams decreased. The iron gate in his dreams still existed, but it no longer seemed to be an obstacle, but an unreachable illusion.

One day, while delivering food, Old Li accidentally bumped into someone. The man was well-dressed, looking like a boss. He yelled at Old Li for a few sentences. Just as Old Li was about to apologize, the man suddenly froze, staring at Old Li's food delivery box with an unbelievable expression.

"You...where did you get this delivery box?" the man's voice trembled slightly.

Old Li was taken aback. He had picked up this delivery box from a second-hand market; there was nothing special about it. He pointed to a worn label on the box and said, "I...I just bought it randomly."

The man snatched the delivery box and examined it carefully, becoming more and more excited. He took out a magnifying glass from his pocket and mumbled to himself while looking at the blurred words on the label: "That's right...that's it, it's an old model! It's definitely an old model!"

Old Li was confused. Was this man crazy?

"Do you know?" the man grabbed Old Li's arm, speaking rapidly. "This is our company's old delivery box from over ten years ago. We made a batch of these, with a special code printed on them, and later stopped production due to material issues. I didn't expect that someone would still be using them!"

"Is...is there anything special about it?" Old Li asked, puzzled.

"Of course, it's special! Back then, the cost of each of these boxes was over ten thousand! We thought they had all been destroyed. I didn't expect there were survivors! This is practically a relic! An antique!" The man shook Old Li's hand excitedly. "I'll buy your box for a high price!"

Old Li was stunned. He looked at the well-dressed man, who was going crazy over a broken box, and suddenly felt as if he were in an absurd theater. He waved his hand: "This box is so old, it's not worth much. I still need to deliver food."

The man hurriedly said: "No! I'll give you ten thousand! No, twenty thousand! No, fifty thousand! I want them all!"

Old Li looked at the man who was going crazy for a broken box, and a feeling of indescribable sadness welled up inside him. He smiled bitterly and refused the man's offer. He thought of his son lying in bed, needing medicine, not these absurd "antiques."

He turned around and continued his food delivery journey. The lunch in the box had gone cold. But Old Li knew that he had to keep going, because it was the only effort he could make for his son. The sun was setting, and his figure was stretched long, like a frozen black-and-white photograph, filled with powerlessness and helplessness, yet also flashing a faint glimmer of light. This glimmer, perhaps, was hope. In the midst of endless absurdity, he still believed that tomorrow, the sun would rise again.