The Mystery of Seat E

Old Wang, carrying a bulging snakeskin bag, stood at the entrance of the high-speed train car, looking like a porter who had wandered into a high-end banquet. He checked his ticket, carriage 7, seat 10F, correct. But when he reached seat 10, he found 10A, 10B, 10C, 10D, and then it skipped directly to 10F. He rubbed his eyes, looked again carefully, and there was still no E.

"Where did E go?" he muttered to himself, his voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz.

A man in a suit next to him lowered his tablet, glanced at Old Wang, and curled his lip in a smirk, as if mocking his ignorance. "Where is there an E seat on a high-speed train? You're so out of touch." After saying that, he buried his head back into his financial news.

Old Wang scratched his head. He had worked away from home for years and taken the train more times than he’d had meals, but he really hadn't taken the high-speed train very often. Could it be that he remembered it wrong? But his ticket clearly said 10F.

He tentatively asked a young mother holding a child next to him, "Hey there, sister, why isn't there an E seat on the high-speed train?"

The young mother frowned first, sized Old Wang up and down, then gave him a "are you crazy?" look and said impatiently, "If there isn't one, there isn't one, why so much nonsense?" After saying that, she went back to soothing her crying child.

Old Wang became doubtful. Did everyone think it was just natural? He took a few steps forward and saw a seating chart for the high-speed train at the carriage connection. It clearly marked: A, B, C, D, and F. There was indeed no E!

He felt like he had wandered into a parallel universe, where everyone was operating under rules he couldn't understand.

He found a uniformed attendant and was about to speak when the attendant skillfully pointed to the bulletin board at the carriage connection: "If you have any questions, please refer to the announcements."

Old Wang walked to the bulletin board with a blank expression. The dense text made him dizzy. With much difficulty, he finally found a barely noticeable announcement:

"Notice Regarding Adjustments to High-Speed Rail Seat Numbering: In order to improve passenger travel efficiency, the relevant authorities have decided to cancel the E seat on high-speed trains starting today. Passengers originally assigned to seat E will be uniformly adjusted to seat F. Thank you for your understanding and cooperation."

The notice was dated one month ago.

Old Wang frowned. He couldn't understand how cancelling one seat could improve efficiency. He looked around. Everyone was acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary, as if it wasn't worth mentioning at all.

He dragged his snakeskin bag and sat down in his assigned seat 10F. The scenery outside the window flashed by, but his heart felt heavy.

"What's wrong with this world?" He mumbled, leaning his head against the seat back, trying to get some sleep.

After a long time, he was awakened by a faint sobbing. He opened his eyes and saw that the sound was coming from the seat next to him. A stylish young girl was crying, tears streaming down her face while she held her phone.

Old Wang hesitated for a moment, then handed her a tissue. The girl took the tissue and choked out, "Thank you. I… I couldn't get an E seat, and I missed today's audition…"

Old Wang was stunned. He looked at the girl’s phone screen. It showed a chat group called "E Seat Cheer Squad." The people in the group were discussing the audition performances of the “E Seat Girls” today.

In an instant, Old Wang understood. The E seat hadn’t disappeared, but had transformed into something else. Those who were shifted to the F seat were like forgotten footnotes of this era, while the E seat had been imbued with some special significance and become an exclusive pathway for a select few, perhaps a step toward success.

He looked around. Among the passengers, who was a real "F seat" and who was a hidden "E seat"? He looked at the ticket in his hand, marked "10F," and a sense of inexplicable absurdity surged in his heart.

He would never understand this world, just as he would never understand why anyone would cry so hard over a fictional seat.

The train arrival announcement sounded, and Old Wang dragged his snakeskin bag, blending into the crowd disembarking. He didn't look back, nor did he think further. However, he had a vague feeling that he had missed something more important.