24 posts tagged with "Human Nature"

The weather in Sang Town, lately, always seemed covered in a layer of unwashable gray. Not that there wasn't sun; the sun was there, hanging brightly in the sky, yet it couldn't penetrate that invisible haze. When it fell on people's bodies and faces, it was merely tepid, unable to stir the slightest vitality. The townspeople, too, were much like the weather; their eyeballs were alive, able to move, to see, but looking around, there was nothing novel to behold, so they retreated back inwards, hidden beneath half-closed eyelids, as if this could conserve some energy.

Old Wang stood at the entrance of the "Good Neighbor" supermarket, staring at the huge red characters "Clearance Sale" pasted on the glass door. He felt like a sodden wad of old cotton stuffed in his chest, heavy and suffocating. This supermarket, which he had run for fifteen years, ultimately couldn't withstand the impact of the flashy, 24-hour new-style chain convenience store across the street. Like a leaking old boat, it was gurgling its way to the bottom.

Six seventeen in the morning. The alarm hadn't gone off yet, but I was awake. Outside the window, the sky was a thin, washed-out blue-gray, like something laundered too many times, carrying a hint of hungover fatigue. This city is always like that, waking up reluctantly. It seemed my body housed its own alarm clock, more precise and more stubborn than the mechanical thing on the bedside table.

In the Beijing summer, under the vicious sun, the asphalt roads softened, making you worry about peeling off a layer of tar with your soles. Even on a day like this, in a nook near Xizhimen, a small lunchbox stall always stood its ground, unwavering.

The first time Li An met Lin Jing was amid the surging crowd of the People's Square subway station. Like two identical water droplets colliding unexpectedly in a rushing river. They were both wearing khaki trench coats, both wearing the same style of beret in different colors – Li An's was off-white, Lin Jing's light gray. They even nearly bumped into the same pillar while looking down at their phones. The moment they looked up, their eyes met, and the air seemed to freeze for a second.

The sky was gloomy, like someone's grandmother had died, holding back a torrent of tears. But the "Juxian Teahouse" at the entrance of the old Beijing hutong was as lively as a boiling pot.

Captain Li is dead. His body was not found, only the endless, rolling, gray sea remains.

This is the 173rd day of the ocean-going fishing vessel "Asmodeus" at sea. According to the original route, in another half month, they should have returned, back to the solid labyrinth built of reinforced concrete and neon lights. But now, everything is unknown. Or rather, everything points to another, deeper, colder, labyrinth with no exit.

These days, even eating a meal can lead to philosophical reflection.

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.

These days, it's really crazy! Gold is going insane, with a different price every day. I mean, can you eat gold? Can you wear it? But this thing has driven people completely nuts.