那一年，我决定不跟时代赛跑，改为和时代并排散步。这决定一半出于懒惰，一半出于一种难以名状的哲学思考。总之，我辞掉了在公关公司熬夜P图的工作，搬到了城郊一间据说闹鬼的老房子里。房租便宜得令人发指，以至于我怀疑房东才是真正的鬼。

我的新生活很简单：白天睡觉，晚上看新闻，偶尔写点没人看的东西。这天晚上，新闻比往常热闹。先是郭晓婷女士买的贴身衣物上发现了霉斑，这让我想起了我那几条搁置已久、恐怕也已“绿意盎然”的内裤。紧接着，是“胖猫事件”的真相还原，90多吨食物被浪费，这让我想起了我冰箱里那颗孤独的、已经开始怀疑猫生的白菜。

In this day and age, you can even buy underwear with mold spots. What's wrong with this world?

Mr. K received a letter. The envelope was stamped with an unfamiliar seal, the specific department unclear, only a vague impression of the word "Declaration" showing through. The content of the letter was simple: it requested that he fill out a declaration form and submit it within seven days.

Mr. K was puzzled. He couldn't remember needing to declare anything. But he followed the instructions anyway, and took the form from the envelope. The form was long, densely packed with various items, each item subdivided into countless smaller sub-items, and the sub-items further branching out, like an inverted tree with endlessly extending branches.

I heard this story in a jazz bar.

That night, Tokyo was experiencing a dense rain, like some invisible, viscous substance threatening to devour the entire city. I sat alone in a corner of the bar, nursing an excessively expensive whiskey. The ice cubes swirled slowly in the amber liquid, like time itself, melting away silently.

老王每天的工作就是看着那些巨大的集装箱，像积木一样被吊起，放下，运走，再运来。他是港口的一个小职员，负责记录集装箱的编号和进出时间。这份工作枯燥乏味，但老王从没想过要离开。他觉得，这些集装箱里装着全世界，而他，是这个世界运转的一颗小小螺丝钉。

At the end of the old street, there is a stone bridge. At the head of the bridge, there is a pastry shop that sells Qiaotou Gao, a cake famous far and wide.

When I was a child, my biggest craving was for this Qiaotou Gao. White glutinous rice flour, kneaded with lard and brown sugar, sprinkled with osmanthus flowers, and then steamed. It came out hot and fragrant. One bite, and the soft, glutinous, sweet taste would reach deep into your heart.

阿珍遇到阿强的那年，上海的栀子花开得格外喧嚣。

那是在外滩的一家小咖啡馆，阿珍是刚毕业的大学生，怀揣着一腔热血，想在十里洋场闯出一番天地。阿强则是咖啡馆的常客，一个落魄的画家，靠着给路人画肖像勉强维持生计。

我走进那家金店的时候，并没有意识到自己踏入了一个无尽的循环。那一天，报纸的头条赫然写着“金店足金价格涨破900”，我记得我母亲曾说过，黄金是乱世的避风港，是永恒的财富。我只是想，或许，我应该为未来做点打算。

老李推着他的小车，穿梭在城市喧嚣的街道上。他的营生很简单——卖柠檬水。车上挂着一块手写的招牌：“新鲜柠檬，甜蜜生活”。不过，生活对老李来说，可远没有那么甜蜜。

Zhao Xunjin's name, now etched as a chilling obituary, is embedded in the precipitous cliffs of Mount Hua, like an eternal footnote. But during the days of his disappearance, his fate was like a mirror, reflecting countless possibilities, and in each reflection, pushing the truth into a deeper mist.