Chapter 88: Youth

Today was the boy’s eighth birthday.

There was another boy who shared the same birthday, who had just been crowned with a small paper crown by his parents at the school gate.

The crown was made of paper, but it looked beautiful, making him seem like a little prince, with stars and the sun orbiting around him.

This filled the boy with anticipation for going home.

Moreover…

The boy carefully held the test paper in his hands.

In big red characters, it read 100.

“Dad, Mom, I’m home.”

The tender voice echoed through the living room.

But there was no response.

The man and woman sat facing each other.

“Today I scored…”

“I told you not to touch the stock market! I said don’t touch the stock market, yet you went behind my back and put all the money in. Are you crazy?!”

The sharp voice was as piercing as scraping glass; the woman had long lost any trace of grace.

That penetrating voice reverberated throughout the entire neighborhood; it could be heard clearly across several streets.

The boy felt like his eardrums were about to burst.

“Do you understand what a Black Swan Event is? Who could predict a sudden war? The entire A-Share Market crashed over a thousand points! I’m not the only one losing! How can you blame me?”

“Today it’s a Black Swan, tomorrow another Black Swan. I’m asking you, how much of those two hundred thousand yuan is left?”

“That’s not my problem. I’m telling you, I’ll make that money back! How can you not know how to manage finances in the 21st Century?”

“How much is left?!”

“Two thousand five hundred.”

“You…” The woman trembled with anger. “You’re a good-for-nothing!”

“This time it’s just my bad luck. Imagine you’re walking down the street fine, then suddenly get hit by a car—who do you complain to? The guy who bought crude oil even owes the bank hundreds of thousands. Compared to that, I’m doing fine.” The man was indifferent. “Keep your voice down, stop yelling at me.”

“Divorce!”

The woman’s shout made the entire world fall silent for a full minute.

The man’s face darkened: “Don’t be shameless. You’re not done yet, are you? What about Little Jie if we get divorced?”

“You still have the nerve to mention Little Jie? That’s money for his schooling!”

“I know! I know! Hey, stop with the nonsense, you…”

And then another round of bitter verbal sparring.

The boy was no stranger to this suffocating pressure, as if the sky were falling, pressing him down until he could only crawl on the floor, unable to move in that cramped space.

“Dad, Mom…”

He called out twice, but his voice was completely drowned out.

……

The test paper slipped to the floor.

The boy retreated to his room and hid under the covers.

Maybe if he just hid away, like before…

But he didn’t expect that this war would last for over a decade.

……

The boy never understood why those two people wouldn’t separate.

They argued every day.

Arguing over buying the wrong vegetables, arguing over too little salt—anything slightly out of place would prompt them to unleash volume levels worthy of a community broadcast.

“Back?”

The boy had just pushed open the door when a strong scent of alcohol hit him.

From that day on, the man and woman began drinking heavily.

There were always a few bottles of cheap, high-proof white liquor in the house.

Long cylindrical bottles, like several grenades, packed in a square ammunition box.

The man would take them out to replenish supplies for the next battle. The woman would, too.

“My Head Teacher said he wants to help me catch up on my studies and prepare for the college entrance exam, so I’m going to stay at his place for a few days.”

“Hmm…” The man hummed indifferently.

Even if the boy stayed out all night, he wouldn’t ask a single question.

The woman came out of the bedroom, heavily made-up, brushing past the boy.

She had plans to go out with friends at night and didn’t have time for him.

“Going to hang out with your bunch of bad friends again?”

“None of your business.”

“You’re my woman!”

“Idiot.”

Another short burst of conflict followed.

……

“Hey!”

Someone called out to the boy, jolting him awake.

He was very sensitive to sounds.

If someone spoke harshly or loudly to him, he’d feel restless and anxious, his hands and feet turning cold.

This hypersensitivity to emotions often made him doubt himself, thinking maybe he was too delicate.

“Old Zhang is calling you. He said to come home early tonight; he has a meeting.”

“Oh, okay.”

The boy nodded and looked at the test paper in his hands.

118.

Seeing that one wrong question, his heart trembled with unease again, his palm slightly shaking.

How could he have made a mistake…

How could he possibly get a question wrong?

If they found out, they’d say again—wasn’t it a perfect score? Huh.

It had been over ten years since he’d heard a word of praise.

He remembered once when the homework required parents to say something good about their child.

They hesitated and evaded the question so awkwardly, it stuck in the boy’s mind like a wound.

Since that day, he forbade himself from making any mistakes.

But unfortunately, the harder he tried, the more he realized his limitations.

No matter how hard he focused,

He could never be perfect.

His memory was worse than others’, his thinking slower, his perspective narrower, and his efficiency lower.

The harder he tried, the more his hands trembled.

Out of control.

But besides trying, the boy didn’t know what else could fill his life.

……

[News: Middle school teacher accused of sexual assault, drowned himself to prove his innocence.]

……

The boy moved back home.

The man and woman were still there; the boy understood why they wouldn’t divorce.

But he no longer thought about it.

He got admitted to Normal University, but not because he wanted to inherit anyone’s legacy.

He just felt…

That the profession of a teacher, in the eyes of students, was like that of a deity.

They revolved around you, worshiped you, adored you.

What happiness that must be!

He could be like those popular teachers online, mingling with the kids, enjoying the overwhelming satisfaction of vanity.

That was what he wanted.

To be admired, to be the center of attention, to be someone… who was liked!

To do great things! To earn respect, flowers, and praise!

To have more.

More, more, and even more—

Praise me! Praise me quickly!

Adore me!

Praise me!

……

That day, the sun was shining brightly.

Kang Jie held his Teacher’s Certificate with a smile.

He had finally waited for this day.

The school he would join had already contacted him.

Today was his first class.

To leave a perfect first impression on the students, he tried his best to look neat and handsome.

Then, he specifically called a ride-share car to avoid wrinkling his white shirt on the crowded subway.

Sitting in the backseat, Kang Jie looked out the window.

The sky appeared to have…

Two suns?

On the car radio, a woman’s standard Mandarin voice came through.

[It is now exactly 7 p.m. Beijing Time.]

[This is FM106.4, Voice of Asia. I am broadcaster Huang Xiao. It has been an honor to come to this world to deliver the last broadcast for everyone.]

[There are ten seconds left until the End of the World. Nine… Eight… Seven…]

……

[There are no idealists in this world.]

[There are only those who want to accomplish something great, who want to harvest praise from others to fill their endless greedy hearts, who want to find peace…]

[They are fools.]

[End of the World, Day 26, Kang Jie remains]