Lixiang, much like the nearly withered jasmine on her windowsill, was an inconspicuous speck of green in this concrete jungle. She worked as a clerk in a medium-sized trading company, her days filled with typing, photocopying, and making tea that was never quite hot enough for the boss. Life felt like a rusty conveyor belt, carrying her from sunrise to sunset. Her only hope, her only thing to look forward to, was Liang Yu.
My name is Wang Er, but I don't acknowledge that I am Wang Er, even though my household registration booklet, ID card, graduation certificate, and various documents issued by my workplace all clearly state these two characters. I believe I'm someone, someone with wisdom, with thoughts, someone waiting to be swept up by the torrent of history to the pinnacle of life. Of course, this peak is not Mount Everest, but something more metaphysical, such as the peak of wisdom.
Li Ming discovered the hidden folder while organizing his old hard drive. The folder was named "Backup," and it contained only three files, with timestamps indicating they were created on their wedding anniversary. Puzzled, he opened the first file. It was filled with dense data, resembling some sort of arcane code. The second file was a facial scan of his wife, and the third file was an unnamed audio file.
He clicked on the audio file.
Six o'clock sharp. The sky outside the window was like a piece of repeatedly washed, faded blue cloth. I woke up on time, without an alarm. Some gear inside me always meshed precisely at this hour. First, the cat. He's called Mustard, a calico whose fur looks like it's been stained by smoke. He was Zhe's. He jumped onto the bed, nuzzled my cheek with his nose, his throat rumbling like a tractor engine starting up. He never rushes me, just silently reminds me that the new day has begun unloading, whether I'm ready to sign for it or not.
I went to the kitchen to brew coffee. The beans were bought just yesterday, Ethiopian Yirgacheffe, with notes of citrus and flowers, like some distant, vague promise. Zhe liked Blue Mountain; he said its flavor had a sense of order. I don't get it. For me, coffee is just a weapon against the thick drowsiness of morning.