It was a truly peaceful day. It was already noon when Jiang Youwei slowly woke up in bed. Oh, you asked him why he didn't go to work? What a joke! Shouldn't a man over 30 have a successful career, a happy family, and plenty of money to spend watching his wife and children? Of course, this was just Jiang Youwei's daydream. In reality, he was just an old, fat otaku, living a life of luxury.
Jiang Youwei lived up to his reputation. "If I'm not going to starve, why bother working so hard?" he often mused. A New World Youth, a proud worker, and a qualified laborer, he, despite dropping out of college, landed a job at a construction company close to home, becoming a front-line bricklayer working from 6 a.m. to 5 p.m., year-round. Continuing with his school-age conviction that he'd never want to study again after graduation, Jiang Youwei naturally lost interest in opening a textbook after starting work. He spent his days in a daze, clocking in and out, returning home to watch silly videos and erotic shows online, often staying up late to reward himself. After a few years of work, his salary remained steady, a slicked-down top of his head began to appear, his figure began to grow sideways, his eyes became unfocused, and his concentration became strained.
"...So what are you going to do next? Huh? Did you hear that?!" Jiang's mother, utterly enraged by her son's idiotic demeanor, brought up the same old gossip at the table. With the intoxicating murmur of their chatter, the atmosphere of this brunch naturally took on an eerie quality. The dining table was the familiar rectangular wooden table, covered with a khaki tablecloth embroidered with patterns and a sheet of tempered glass the same size as the table itself. As the head of the household, Jiang's mother naturally sat at the head of the table, facing east and west. With the rising sun in the east, she exuded a commanding presence. Across from Jiang Youwei sat Jiang's father, who was earnestly savoring fish belly with a wine jug in hand, looking as if it were none of his business. Occasionally, he nodded in agreement, mumbling a "hmm," though it was unclear whether he meant it was good or good.
Jiang Youwei was accustomed to this kind of daily routine. His mother had been giving him these kind of "earnest instructions" ever since he started middle school, and every time she came home from playing cards, she'd give him a "serious lecture." After so many years of stress-resistance training, wouldn't it be fair for Jiang Youwei to call himself "mentally strong"? He simply treated the frequent online news stories of elementary school students committing suicide by jumping from buildings after being punished by standing still as a joke: "That's hilarious! I'm already numb, how could I jump like that?"—he certainly wouldn't remind anyone of the fact that he was a coward.
"As expected of a teacher who's been around for over thirty years, I really can't learn that kind of eloquence," Jiang Youwei knew clearly. To understand his mother's strength and stubbornness, he had to start with his father. Jiang's father's life story was truly remarkable compared to most. Jiang Youwei had learned countless stories from his grandfather, but the most memorable ones were: As a child, Jiang's father fell into a pit toilet while playing in the village and had to climb out on his own, earning him the name "Wenwu" (literary and martial arts) from his teacher. After receiving these names, Jiang's father truly began to study diligently and later became the first person in the village to be admitted to university. However, during a village cleanup, his grandfather found a collection of comic books under the bed. He was puzzled and only found a few shamans to appease him. Jiang's father and mother's romance was something that even television dramas couldn't capture these days; their seemingly blissful happiness would only seem fake. Today, Jiang's father is just that: a bald, homely old man with a story to tell.
Jiang's father's timidity probably began when he started his own business. When reminiscing about the past, his grandfather would sometimes lament, "Our Jiang family really doesn't know how to run a business!" Jiang Youwei only heard that the losses were severe, but fortunately the family had some savings, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to afford the house they live in now. "Let's make some money now, and the whole family can live under a bridge in the future," Jiang Youwei thought to himself, at the same time justifying his own incompetence.
With Jiang Ma's disdainful and contemptuous rants, "Men should earn money, earn a lot of money!", the brunch naturally ended on an unhappy note. At the last moment, seeing the situation getting worse, Jiang Dad pushed aside the plates laden with scraps and said, "Who's going to wash the dishes?" He then fled the table. Jiang Ma's face flushed with anger at being interrupted, but then her expression changed. She glared at Jiang Dad with feigned resentment, then, with a serious expression and a direct gaze towards Jiang Youwei, snorted, "Who's going to wash the dishes?"
Jiang Youwei showed a gesture of surrender.
While Jiang Youwei was cleaning up the mess, his piglet seemed to wake up. Completely ignoring the tense atmosphere of the family, it circled around their calves, meowing in an attempt to be fed. "Tsk, none of them are easy to deal with!" Jiang Youwei's face suddenly changed, and she called out to the cat, "Sanmao~" The tabby cat, named "Sanmao," immediately jumped into her arms. Jiang Youwei turned his head to watch the familiar scene, suddenly remembering a strange piece of knowledge he had read before: "Maybe humans tamed cats, or maybe cats tamed humans. This at least proves that humans can be tamed." "Have I been tamed?" Jiang Youwei was so shocked at this thought that he almost dropped the pot he had just washed.
"Some people say that after working hard, people always start to think about the meaning of life."
"My future?" Jiang Youwei began to ponder this as he lay in a sunbed. "Where will the construction industry go from here? How will I repay the debt owed to a mineral water company? When will my layoff end? What kind of person will I become? What will I do?" The more Jiang Youwei pondered, the more confused he became. "Fuck it, cold salad. Eat when it's time to eat, sleep when it's time to sleep." He chose to cover his card; it wasn't his turn.
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