The family quickly returned home overcome by fatigue, forgetting everything they'd experienced during their walk. "Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy!" Jiang Youwei felt Huang Xiaohong's words didn't quite apply to their family. She was incredibly energetic, unable to sleep the entire night. Every time she seemed about to drift off, her consciousness would automatically shift into that mystical state. Thus, she spent the entire night gazing at the creatures within a two-kilometer radius.
There really wasn't much more to gain that night; it was always quiet. "Like the silence before the storm."
The next morning, the community sent someone to notify us. There were two people in each building. The leader was a middle-aged woman with a healthy complexion. The other was a younger man. He held a roster in one hand and their work IDs in the other. He was writing and drawing with an unknown brand of ballpoint pen.
"There's an epidemic going on lately, so don't go out unless necessary," the old lady said with full energy. They simply went door to door to register the number of people living in each household, with no intention of entering to check or chatting.
It's simple, fast, and "very efficient," Jiang Youwei commented. It's a shame he hasn't seen a more efficient approach, or perhaps things haven't reached that point yet. There are so many idle people in this world, and even just this little bit of running around is already a scramble for people. "Volunteering earns points, and hiring workers earns wages," said a knowledgeable neighbor. Perhaps it improves one's social status and lives.
This has nothing to do with Jiang Youwei. She just feels a lot of pressure when communicating with others. Asking her to do such a "standing out" thing is more painful than killing her.
"There's been no reaction online. Isn't this normal?" Jiang Youwei thought darkly, reflecting on conspiracy theories. In the early days, conspiracy theories were so widespread that even the most naive online nerds were inevitably influenced. "Isn't life in peace and prosperity wonderful?" Back then, this guy felt like nothing had to do with him. Well, a typical nihilistic fate.
Huang Xiaohong had to be the one to stock up. She'd spent a good while getting dressed up for this day—a mysterious 17-year-old girl. If only "I" could learn how to dress up, Jiang Youwei felt like this was the crux of his problem in finding a girlfriend: "No, why am I even thinking about this?"
Let’s not talk about this family or even this community.
Our perspective expands, expands, and expands again. This country, this planet.
White clouds drape over the azure planet like a wisp of silk, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and the silver moon, four hundred million miles away, dances gracefully around the blue gem. This scene has lasted for approximately three billion human years.
But this is not the case for the dinosaurs in the Jurassic period. Humans have always believed that it was a meteorite that destroyed the dinosaurs. But in fact, this is not the case - it was not the meteorite that destroyed the dinosaurs, but some kind of force that caused the meteorite to destroy the dinosaurs.
Destruction means rebirth.
Only after the dinosaurs died out could mammals rise.
In other words, some force allowed mammals to rise.
Now another force has arrived.
"Mr. President, are we really going to do this?"
"Yes, if we don't do that, we won't be able to continue in the next term."
“But those people will storm the Capitol!”
"Hey, Jimmy! Think about your family, think about your son. If Mr. Plant doesn't get re-elected, neither you nor I will be reappointed."
"Okay, okay. We can intercept all the messages, release some of the worthless ones, and then send a bunch of contradictory messages, so that they will fight among themselves."
"What if this doesn't work?"
"That depends on Mr. President. We must not be the first!"
"Wait, Lin, this sounds like the same thing as before?"
"Yes, just like before."
“But it really works!”
Jiang Youwei, waiting for dinner in her room, stamped her foot on the floor in disgust. The stench of feces and urine mixed with the smell of blood lingered in the wind for days, lingering. "Damn, it's all marinated!" She punched a blood-stained pillow, piercing it through—such was the state of her body. The cotton fluff inside the pillow fluttered in the air, then was carried out the window by the wind. "It doesn't seem to have snowed yet this year. It looks like I'll be fed mosquitoes again this summer. I wonder if my skin can handle it." She hated mosquitoes. Just now, while helping to chop vegetables, she accidentally broke the cutting board with her knife, the ceramic knife blade shattering against the marble slab beneath. Only when she was cleaning up the mess did she realize a fragment of the broken blade was embedded in her dress. "It seems there's no bleeding. That's great." She couldn't tell if the skin hadn't been cut, or if it had healed.
Huang Xiaohong watched her "daughter" deteriorate into a state of depravity at the dinner table, and finally decided to find a way to "correct" her behavior. "Starting tomorrow, I'll teach you how to knit a sweater, okay?" Jiang Youwei's tone wasn't a question, but rather a resolute one.
Considering that there are not many people who know this kind of craft in this era, Jiang Youwei plans to pass on this intangible cultural heritage. After all, he has nothing to do anyway, so it is always good to have more skills.
Seeing his wife's plot succeed, Jiang Wenwu quickly asked, "What about cooking? Do you want to learn?" Her voice was pleasant, but her ulterior motives were evident. She felt that if her "son" learned to cook, she would have much less chores to do around the house.
Eyes full of expectation.
Jiang Youwei waved his hand: "Let's talk about it later!"
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