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Chapter 1766 Extra Chapter: Su Ming'an Found a Red Fortune Stick (Part 1)

Chapter 1766 Extra Chapter: "Su Ming'an Found a Red Fortune Stick Box" (Part 2)

[Ming'an's Diary, March 28th, Cloudy.]

People always say that youth means endless possibilities, but no one told me that these "possibilities" already have a price tag. I watched helplessly as my future narrowed into a one-way street, with scenery flashing by on both sides that I dared not linger to admire.

I always feel like I haven't grown up yet, but I already see the future clearly... Study a stable major, find a stable job, and then honestly live out my life working 8 to 5.

My dream is no longer a mountain; it has become a well on my back. The harder I try to climb upwards, the more the cold reality pulls me down.

Sometimes I feel like a player who's prematurely dealt a hand in life. The game demands my passion and complete commitment, but I dare not take the risk, because I know that once I've lost everything, there will be no second chance. Those inspiring stories are merely for those who still have the luxury of dreaming.

I gradually learned to meticulously self-mutilate, transforming myself into someone adept at calculation, focused solely on food and vegetables. This process was far from pleasant; it felt more like a slow, agonizing torture. With each castration, I felt the flame in my heart diminish.

I've even started to fear mirrors. The person in the mirror now only exudes a cautious prudence and weariness. I betrayed him, exchanging what he cherished most for what others considered insignificant "stability." I've become a traitor to my own life, yet I must constantly defend myself, telling myself it's the only "right" path.

【……But.】

But I'm afraid Uncle Zhao will fall ill. I'm afraid I won't even be able to raise the money to save him. I'm afraid of another economic downturn. I'm afraid of a sudden epidemic. If I stake everything on my future... what will happen to him when he falls?

[It turns out the world doesn't need me to save it; what's more dangerous than the world are loans and medicine.]

I can't be a savior, but I want to save my uncle.

……

During his first year of high school, when the school organized an overseas summer camp, his good friend Bolong insisted on giving Su Ming'an a recommendation spot, recommending Su Ming'an to go abroad for the experience free of charge.

“If you consider me a brother, then don’t say anything more! Go! You deserve it!” Bo Long patted his chest.

In the magnificent music academy abroad, the teacher suggested that they try playing the piano. When Su Ming'an's fingertips lightly touched the keys of the grand piano, the long-lost flow of music broke through the confinement, causing the teachers and students who were traveling with him to stop and marvel.

At that moment, he felt as if he had touched that radiant version of himself once again.

His eyes were slightly closed, his body rising and falling naturally with the emotions of the music. The wisps of hair on his forehead trembled slightly in the light and shadow, and the lines of his profile were focused and gentle. He was no longer the silent, ordinary high school student he usually was, but a true, radiant performer.

A low gasp of surprise rose from the crowd as people exchanged glances, their eyes filled with admiration.

The song ended.

The last note slowly dissipated into the air, leaving a lingering aftertaste.

Su Ming'an's fingertips gently left the piano keys, and he slowly opened his eyes, as if waking from a long dream.

A brief, profound silence.

immediately--

"Bravo!" (Great!)

The applause erupted like thunder, suddenly bursting forth.

He stood up and looked at his classmates, somewhat dazed. Standing in the center of the spotlight, listening to the thunderous applause, and feeling the unreserved attention, he seemed to touch once again the radiant version of himself, full of boundless hope for the future.

It was as if the whole world was smiling and walking toward him.

"I never expected Su Ming'an to play the zither so well!"

"That's amazing! You're a master of disguise!"

"Well done, Su Ming'an!"

However, the flight ended, and the plane landed. The luxurious concert hall, the gleaming piano keys, and the enthusiastic applause all seemed like a fleeting, beautiful dream.

He returned to the familiar old building, where the hallway was filled with the mixed smells of old furniture and food. He woke up.

That dream was too beautiful to be real; it was something that was never meant for him.

……

One cold winter day, he passed by a bridge underpass near his home and saw a group of homeless people huddled around an unfinished building, singing around a bonfire. They threw the leftover food they had picked up into the pot, along with the broth that the hot pot restaurant had thrown away, and held a "hot pot" feast.

Under the dazzling Christmas Eve of the metropolis, these people, draped in tattered blankets they had picked up, resembled a group of warriors abandoned by the times, surrounding their sacred fire.

Regardless of age or status, they enthusiastically pulled Su Ming'an along and served him soup. It turned out they were all marginalized people in this city; some had been owed wages by their foremen, and others had terminal illnesses they couldn't afford treatment for. They didn't care how many books they would study or how much money they would earn tomorrow; they were simply dancing happily here, talking at length about the future of the world.

The old man waved his hand, and the homeless man with missing arms and legs echoed him. They sang songs from the 1980s and 90s, held hands, and raised their legs high around the bonfire.

"My passion, hey! It's like a fire! Burning the entire desert!"

……

[Ming'an's Diary, December 24th, Christmas Eve, Light Snow]

I gradually discovered that Zhai Xing OL is a life simulation game.

Studying, taking exams, working, getting married, having children... This game feels utterly unoriginal. The main storyline is repetitive and formulaic, and while there are many side quests, most offer little reward. Most players only receive praise for following the main storyline.

There's no clear reward system, no compelling storyline, no progress bar for leveling up, and you're constantly getting injured by monsters, requiring exorbitant amounts of gold to recover. Furthermore, there's no resurrection mechanism or fountain. Once you're defeated by a monster called "Life," your account is deleted. The game is also incredibly boring, mostly repetitive and tedious, with the satisfying feeling of leveling up often occurring only once every few years, or even nonexistent, and you're frequently outbid by pay-to-win players.

……

"Even the sun will avoid me when it sees me! It will fear the fire of my love!"

……

However, if players delve into the side quests in detail, they will discover many interesting things.

[Under the bridge arch, a mysterious realm reveals a group of players singing and dancing; jumping into the river to save someone will trigger a serendipitous encounter, perhaps even leading to romance; diligently leveling up and achieving an SSS rating in the "College Entrance Examination" dungeon will lead to a completely different main storyline and the acquisition of stronger equipment; choosing not to follow the main storyline might invite ridicule from players of the same level, but it could also allow you to abandon the conventional paths and discover new ways to play.]

It turns out that you don't have to be exceptionally talented, you don't have to strive to be the best in every aspect, and you don't have to be a great savior.

[Late bloomers, the tragic story of Zhong Yong, the self-inflicted wound... In this simulated game of life, I may have taken the wrong path, or hesitated to move forward. I saw cold, numb faces in hospitals, angry expressions of unpaid wages on construction sites, and someone driving a large truck recklessly, crushing through school campuses.]

But I also saw it all. I saw Uncle Zhao's hardworking and simple face; I saw people in firefighter uniforms silently rushing into the fire; I saw ambulances driving day and night to the disaster area; I saw my father spreading his arms to block the truck.

I triggered many bad encounters, and also many good ones.

This is... a terrible, boring, and pay-to-win game, but one that I can't give up and even still love... a truly awful game.

This is my life's game, Su Ming'an's game.

……

"With me by your side, the desert will never be lonely; it will be filled with the flowers of youth!"

"I sing loudly, you harmonize softly, intoxicated by the little love river in the desert..."

……

Everyone says that children raised in extremely impoverished environments will turn bad once they gain power.

Everyone says that a child raised by a crazy mother will never have any kindness or expectations for the world.

But one day, the homeless people under the bridge received old clothes and tattered quilts from a high school student. He thanked him and said he really liked the singing that night.

People say that one should live indifferently in this world, not presuming to save or change anything; a sophisticated egoist is the current top-tier way to play. But Su Ming'an disagrees; he insists on using the sewer method, he insists on going against the tide.

If we don't have the financial means now, we'll wait until later.

Once he finishes university and gets a stable job, he can cure Uncle Zhao's illness, learn to play the piano, read detective novels, play murder mystery games, and become a game streamer. One day, whether he's a late bloomer or not, he will step onto the glittering stage and become the person he wants to be.

In truth, he had never changed. Perhaps it was the deep influence of his father from childhood, or perhaps it was his fondness for watching cartoons and reading novels—whether it was childish angst or mere fantasy—he simply couldn't tolerate injustice happening before his eyes. However, he was too weak; he couldn't even protect himself. So whenever he heard those infuriating news stories, all he could do was feel angry, grit his teeth, and remain silent.

How he longed to possess power, to wave his hand and create countless mansions, sheltering all the poor and needy with joy. He also fantasized about becoming a wealthy man, so that every homeless person shivering under a bridge would no longer be destitute. Lacking power, he carried his meager "fire," helping a disabled aunt carry her belongings, helping a blind girl cross the street… He never encountered any major acts of heroism, never jumped into a river to save someone, apprehended a criminal, confronted a murderer, or stood in front of a truck like his father…

But he felt warmth in his heart.

"cluster"!

Something suddenly burst into flames. In his palm, it seemed as if he were truly holding a rough, simple, yet gleaming golden cudgel.

In his second year of high school, He Zhizhen, a classmate with depression whom he had been taking care of, jumped off a building. When the person sitting behind him heard this, their first reaction wasn't regret, but rather patting him on the shoulder with a smile on their face.

"Hey, someone jumped off a building! Guess how many days off we'll get? Hehe."

He silently clenched his fists.

Because he was the last person to come into contact with He Zhizhen, some people suspected that he had provoked her. He Zhizhen's mother lost control of her emotions and even pointed at him in the street, cursing him as a jinx who had no one around her doing well. He remained silent until the truth came out—He Zhizhen had simply jumped due to excessive pressure, but he didn't receive an apology.

He didn't care and continued on his path to ignition.

He did experience moments of heartbreak. However, he experienced warmth far more often than not. The warmth of the uncle who helped him move things, the warmth of the aunt who sewed clothes with him, the warmth of Uncle Zhao taking him for a drive along the river, the warmth of people offering him their seats on the bus... Warmth gradually gathered, flowing through his veins, into his heart, making the flame burn even brighter.

"Take care of yourself! Luckily, the injury isn't serious, otherwise I'd have to sell my savings for your funeral to get you treated!" That day, he was injured again, and Uncle Zhao scolded him while applying medicine to his wound.

"They bullied Yueyue, so I fought back with her." The little boy looked indignant.

“Those thugs have knives! What if you get stabbed? What will your dad… what will your uncle do?” The man awkwardly changed his address, originally wanting to call himself “Dad,” but then changed it back.

Su Ming'an suddenly remembered that his father used to do the same thing, rushing into danger regardless of his family's worries—was he following the same old path? What would happen to Uncle Zhao if he died?

"I'll be more careful next time." His voice trailed off.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to help, you did a good job, you did nothing wrong, that’s exactly what you should do! Those bastards who bully female classmates deserve to have their faces bruised and battered! But be careful, be smart, don’t trade blows.” The man waved his fist in the air. “When your uncle was young, he wanted to be a policeman and beat those bad guys to a pulp! Unfortunately, his uncle didn’t have the necessary qualifications… So, you see, qualifications are the most important thing…”

The man kept rambling on, eventually returning to the topics of diplomas, jobs, and the future.

But Su Ming'an was no longer worried; he smiled.

"What are you laughing at?" the man asked, looking at him.

"Uncle would be perfect to be a policeman."

"Hey kid! You're finally trying to put on a good show for your uncle."

"It's true, Uncle is fearless, he charges forward like an ox, and he's very clever, he's amazing."

"Hmph, don't be fooled, there are many 'Officer Su's' and many 'Uncle Zhao's' in this world. Who knows, there might actually be an 'Uncle Zhao' who isn't a cheapskate who does odd jobs, but an upright and brave officer who adopted a child like you."

"That would be good."

"What?"

“If a child like me could be adopted by such a kind ‘Uncle Zhao’, he would be very happy.”

"That's really touching, it gave me goosebumps... You've always had a silver tongue."

"uncle."

"Ok?"

The blood-red sunset shone through the curtains and fell on the two of them, with two suns swirling in the boy's bright eyes.

"Uncle, I will definitely make you happy."

The man was stunned.

Suddenly, it was as if two hearts, unrelated by blood, were connected by a crackling thread under the barren shack, burning with life.

Hey, hey, hey.

Like a lost soul finding its nest, Su Ming'an smiled.

He felt that he had suffered enough in the past ten years or so, and that he was bound to have a better life and eventually find happiness. He had endured enough hardship, and like a sapling, he was growing taller and taller, and sooner or later he would bring happiness to both his uncle and himself.

His majors are still limited to finance, teacher training, and accounting... But if his financial situation improves after he gets to university, he can join a detective club, experience all kinds of games, and become a shining person.

My uncle didn't have the good times, didn't finish his studies, and suffered most of his life. Now that I've grown up, it's my uncle's turn to enjoy life.

A wave of sour heat rushed to his nostrils, and Zhao Zhuozhong hurriedly turned his face away, trying to cover it up with a gruff voice: "You brat, you're good at saying nice things. As long as you don't act so recklessly in the future, and you give me less to worry about, that will be the best of days!"

Even so, he tentatively reached out and placed his hand on Su Ming'an's head, ruffling his slightly messy soft hair.

Su Ming'an didn't flinch, his eyes clear and bright in the sunset: "These aren't just sweet words, they're a vow. We will be happy forever."

"Forever and ever..." Zhao Zhuozhong murmured, repeating the four words. He sniffed sharply, turned around, wiped his face hard, and when he turned back, his eyes were red, but he grinned with a big, even a little silly, smile. "Okay! Forever and ever! Whoever goes back on their word is a little dog!"

He extended his little finger, as if making a solemn vow. Su Ming'an smiled and extended his own little finger, hooking it tightly with his.

"Pinky promise, hang yourself, for a hundred years, no take-backs!"

Uncle Zhao specially opened a jar of pomegranate wine to celebrate the oath. Su Ming'an wanted to drink, but Uncle Zhao used the excuse that he was underage to send him inside.

The pomegranate wine was taught to Uncle Zhao by Su Ming'an. Su Ming'an had wanted to try it before, but he didn't know where Uncle Zhao had buried it. Helpless, Su Ming'an could only pray that in another year, and another year... when he grew up, he could taste it with Uncle Zhao.

……

However, they did not live to see that day.

……

Perhaps heaven favors those who suffer hardship. In his senior year of high school, Su Ming'an returned home alone, staring blankly at the remnants of life still lingering in his house… The steamed buns on the table were unfinished from yesterday. The straw-woven piano on the balcony was one they had made together. Photos hung on the wall, showing them walking along the river. Rows of paper-folded golden cudgels were neatly stored away in the cupboard by the man.

He slowly opened the black leather notebook and saw the ugly handwriting:

……

[I adopted a little boy named "Ming'an," such a nice name—meaning bright and peaceful. His parents must have had incredibly high hopes for him! Don't worry, leave him to me, I'll make sure you grow into a truly amazing adult!]

……

[The company is in dire straits lately; is it really going to go bankrupt?]

……

I tried doing some odd jobs, it was really tiring, but seeing Xiaoming's smiling face made it all worthwhile.

……

That old Li is such a shrew! He's so old, yet he's so cunning, he's ruthless in withholding wages! He's despicable! If I weren't broke, I'd sue him to death!

……

Sometimes I really want to punch those bastards. If I were younger, back in my criminal days, I actually would have done it. Too bad I can't now. What would happen to Ming'an if I committed a crime and ended up in jail?

……

Why is it that I never have enough money?

……

Sometimes I really envy those with diplomas, sitting in comfortable offices with air conditioning, and enjoying high pensions. Sigh, I've already missed that chance. I must urge Ming'an to study hard; he can't end up like me, old Zhao, a pathetic loser.

……

Are these city management officers just bored? They confiscated my straw toys... Oh well! Everyone's just trying to make a living, it's not easy for anyone. Let's make more tonight!

……

I just hope my son studies hard, lives a good life, and becomes a successful person who can sit in an air-conditioned office.

……

If he gets married in the future, I'll have to work even harder. Sometimes I wonder why I supported him in the first place, but when I see his smiling face, I have no more questions.

……

Let's work hard and make the most of today!

……

Keep it up, Old Zhao! Happiness is earned through hard work!

……

[Good job, son! You did great on your high school entrance exam! Let's splurge tonight and go out to eat!]

……

My son is always insecure. Did his parents treat him badly before? When I ask him, he won't say. But I truly think my son is amazing. He can play the piano and perform at summer camps abroad—something I've never even left my province in my life. He's already seen things I'll never see. Isn't that remarkable?

……

My son is never ordinary; he is the best.

……

My son has a light; he shines in the crowd, and I can see him at a glance.

……

My uncle is uneducated; he's over fifty and only just realized he likes philosophy. Alas, he's too late to study it.

……

My health has been poor for years, I've had many ailments... The doctor said if I continue pushing myself, things will get worse, but I can tell my son really wants a piano. He's very understanding; he doesn't say anything, but I can't pretend I don't know. We must work hard to buy him a piano.

……

The day has finally come.

……

[Damn you, Lao Zhao! Why are you so useless? Why are you so weak? Now look what's happened! How are you going to pay for his college education?]

……

Subsidies, pensions, personal accident insurance... Oh right! I can look into that...

……

[That's right, that's right... That way, even if I die, he can still finish four years of university, and he might even be able to buy a piano.]

……

[…I want to live! I want to live! Damn it!]

……

Why do eagles specifically target their most vulnerable spots—the eyes? Good heavens! You're not human!

……

It hurts so much, but I have to go to work tomorrow. If I don't work, I won't get paid, and if I don't get paid, what will I eat?

……

It hurts, it really hurts. It's not the physical ailment, it's the pain in my heart. It's like a hand is gripping it, repeatedly reminding me: Old Zhao, your time has come, it's time to go.

But I can't bear to, I really can't bear to. I haven't even seen my son get into university yet, haven't sat in the audience applauding him, haven't waited for him to come of age, haven't drunk pomegranate wine with him...

I understand everything the doctor said. He said it's treatable, and I can live for another year or two. But how much money will that cost? Those banknotes are flowing out like water; it's terrifying to watch. The guy in the next bed sold his house and car, but he still died, leaving behind a widow and orphans burdened with debt. Uncle can't do that.

This money must be left to Ming'an. It's for his future tuition, his piano lessons, and his journey to a higher level to see the world. It's far more useful than keeping my frail body hanging on in the hospital day after day.

Don't blame me for being ruthless. My greatest skill in life is figuring out how to live a better life with the least amount of money. This time, I've done my calculations too. Trading it for my son's future is worth it! Absolutely worth it!

Thinking it over, my life seems rather meaningless. Years ago, I met a girl named Cuihua, but she ran away because she thought I was too rough around the edges. Hey, I refused to believe it! I was determined to make a name for myself even without a degree. But then, that promising future... I just missed it. I guess I wasn't destined for it, and I'm not exactly smart either. Meanwhile, that slick-haired, country-educated young man next door, so mean-spirited, is now a CEO of a listed company. Why is fate so unfair?

That's all.

[Continuing to endure this will only add to the suffering, but thankfully my son received a sum of money, enough for him to grow up.]

[In my next life, I'll definitely study hard and get a diploma! I'll sit comfortably in an air-conditioned office for the rest of my life, hehe.]

……

Even as the coffin lid slowly closed, Su Ming'an still felt it was unreal.

How could that man, as vast as the sky and as fiery as fire, have become so light, so light that he could hold him in his trembling hands?

"Where are you taking him?" Someone came to take the box, but he held on tightly and refused to let go.

"Please accept our condolences." The adults shook their heads and sighed, looking at him with pity.

"He's not dead, he's still alive." Surrounded by white flowers, the boy held his father tightly in his arms, his voice trembling with sobs, "He hasn't even drunk pomegranate wine with me yet, he hasn't even seen me go to university—he's not dead, he's still alive! Don't take him away! He can still live!"

However, he waited for a long time, but Uncle Zhao still did not wake up.

My uncle seemed to have truly become a small box, unable to move or laugh anymore.

The moment the wooden box was stolen, he knelt on the ground searching, his hands digging through the soil, his fingers covered in blood. He was searching for the jar of pomegranate wine. Perhaps if he found the wine, he could fulfill the unfinished promise, and his uncle would wake up smiling and scold him, "Silly boy."

He felt as if he had returned to that New Year's Eve when he was ten years old, alone with his golden cudgel, chanting about magic that didn't even exist. He was no different from his younger self, futilely fighting against an irretrievable loss.

The relatives were laughing. Why could they laugh? Why could they chat so casually, talking about which family's son was getting married, which aunt had died this year, and which family had built a new house? The atmosphere became lively, melon seeds fell all over the ground, and their yellow faces were all smiling. Their joys and sorrows were not shared. They were just attending a "banquet," a social obligation. Only he himself was sad.

He remembered the person who had been calculating college expenses with him under the lamp yesterday, talking about buying him a computer, now turned into a small wooden box. He thought in vain that he should have bought his uncle some new clothes a few days ago; it had been so many years since he had a new outfit. He also thought about seafood; his uncle had never had any good seafood before.

Why does Uncle have to end his life before he's even had a single good day?

Why did Uncle have to leave so hastily without ever having a single good day?

"Don't leave me alone..." Su Ming'an murmured, "I don't want the computer anymore, and I don't want the game console anymore..."

"You're all I have left... You're really all I have left..."

That night, he kept vigil and sat in the courtyard all night.

There's a tree in my yard that has never blossomed; it's like a dead tree.

After Uncle Zhao died, the flowers fell on Su Ming'an's shoulder.

……

[April 5th, Cloudy]

The flowers my father planted have fallen.

……

What is the way to die, the body is the same as the mountain.

This is the first time the boy has called him "Dad" in his writing.

……

"Tick, tick..."

Su Ming'an woke up with a start, gasping for breath, his heart clenching as if it were being squeezed tightly, his body covered in a dense layer of cold sweat.

What dream did he have? Why did he feel so suffocated and in so much pain?

Suddenly, he seemed to see a person standing in front of the bed. The man was still wearing his blood-stained police uniform and was quietly looking at Su Ming'an.

He opened his eyes wide in disbelief, wondering if he was seeing things or if he was still asleep.

“Ming’an, you’ve grown up,” the person said.

Su Ming'an shook his head, covered his head, realizing he was dreaming and hadn't woken up yet...

"I hate you. Why did you come back? Why did you come back into my dream?" Su Ming'an clenched his fists.

He spoke very softly, with the sound of his roommates snoring still ringing in his ears. He felt like he was dreaming, yet he also hoped it was reality. Or perhaps he was just too tired and had a lucid dream.

“I’m so happy that a fire has been ignited in your heart,” the man said.

"Why did you leave me..." Su Ming'an murmured.

“I’m a qualified police officer… but I’ve never been a qualified father or husband.” The man lowered his head. “I’m sorry.”

In a daze, Su Ming'an saw her father from that day. He was riding his motorcycle home, carrying flowers and strawberries. These were her mother's favorite flowers and Su Ming'an's favorite fruit. Her father was almost home.

But the moment the truck came, the father seemed to be set on fire. He rushed over, picked up the little girl on the road, and threw her out forcefully.

Strawberries were crushed, flowers were ruined by the rain; he once had a burning passion to cleanse the world, but the world cleansed him instead.

Amidst the pool of blood, only the sighs of bystanders and the helpless reflection of the child could be heard.

The illusory figure of the man by the bed was at a loss, wanting to hug Su Ming'an, but not knowing whether he should reach out. He had no right to reach out; he was a bad father.

—A bad father and a bad mother got married and had a good son, Ming'an.

"Ming'an, if it were you in that situation, would you have rushed out?" Dad asked.

“I don’t…” Su Ming’an shook his head, “I don’t… know.”

His chest was burning; he was on fire.

He didn't know what decision he would make in that situation, because he would never encounter such a situation. He was too ordinary and common; the most he ever encountered was helping an old lady cross the street.

"If—and I mean if"—his father looked at him, "if one day, Ming'an, he really encountered a situation where he had to sacrifice himself to save others, Ming'an, would he do it?"

Su Ming'an sat on the bed, head down.

After a moment, he looked up and said:

"I want to see if this world is worth it. I want to see how many people my sacrifice can save."

"Alone?" Dad asked.

"It depends on what kind of person he is."

"Ten people."

"Maybe I'll do it."

"Tens of thousands of people."

"I will go."

"...And the whole world?"

When asked about this, Su Ming'an's chest was already burning hot.

He recalled that after Uncle Zhao died, he was walking aimlessly on the street when an old lady called out to him, asking him to take a picture for her.

The grandmother, dressed in a pristine white wedding gown, smiled like a young girl. She held tightly to the arm of the grandfather, who was wearing a suit, and the two nestled together like newlyweds. It turned out that today was their golden wedding anniversary. The grandmother, who was twenty years old, had married into the family wearing a red cotton-padded jacket and carrying a sewing machine. Now, at seventy, she wanted to experience a real wedding.

That wrinkled face held up the happiness of an entire world.

"Click—" The photo was taken. The elderly couple, whose eyesight was almost completely gone, wore incredibly gentle smiles.

Su Ming'an put down his camera and asked them, "Why are you so happy?"

They said that even if they could no longer see, walk, or breathe, there were still many things in this world that could bring happiness. For example, each other, the future they would walk hand in hand towards, even the grave could be a source of happiness.

The morning light shone brightly in his eyes. On his bed in the dormitory, Su Ming'an suddenly covered his face. He rubbed his eyes hard, wiped away the sweat on his face, and saw that there was no one in front of his bed.

There was never anyone there.

He faced the empty direction, yet continued to murmur his reply:

"I can."

...Dad, I will.

Do you know what, Dad? Life has gotten better for those homeless people. The government has funded jobs and housing for them, and they finally have a new life. And every weekend, they still get together for a lively "hot pot" party, singing "My passion is like a fire."

Did you know? By chance, I met a new "Uncle Zhao." He's a police officer, also surnamed Zhao, and he once adopted a child whose situation was similar to mine. Yes, there's never just one "Uncle Zhao," and there's never just one "Uncle Zhao" dedicated to saving people. I hope that "Uncle Zhao" can live on, live on for a very long time.

Do you know, Dad? Since I was little, I've always dreamed of being a hero. I long to wield the Golden Cudgel and beat all the demons and monsters to a pulp. I yearn to be Rainbow Cat, facing the evil that threatens to overthrow the world, defying the odds, and bringing peace and order back! But I'm too weak; I can't even save Uncle Zhao. I can only silently endure the bad guys. If I truly possessed that power to save the world single-handedly… I would definitely do it.

This is my dream, my ideal, and who I am.

—It is "Su Ming'an".

My father has passed away, but his spirit burns in my heart.

Uncle Zhao has passed away, but he has become a part of me and will stay with me forever.

As long as I am still Su Ming'an, I will have no regrets.

……

"Ring ring—ring ring—"

The alarm rang; it was 7:30 in the morning, and I had an early class today.

Su Ming'an woke up with a start, drenched in sweat, realizing he had just had a long dream. He sat on the bed, catching his breath for a while, patted his head, and wiped away the tears from the corners of his eyes.

My whole body felt like it had been pulled out of the water; I don't know how long I cried in my dream.

He slowly climbed out of bed and took out a crystal piano ornament from the cabinet.

—This was a gift that Uncle Zhao had stored at the post office before he passed away. On the day Su Ming'an turned 18, this ornament was mailed to him.

A tiny figure plays passionately before the crystal piano, its spring gently spinning, and the music that plays is Debussy's "Clair de Lune." Debussy never depicted the moon itself; he depicted the ever-changing emotions on the water's surface as moonlight falls; the delicate tremor in the heart as the moonlight fades. He stripped the piano of its clanging, leaving only a hazy, tender affection.

—It is different from the crystal piano ornament that Su Ming'an's mother bought for him when he was a child, but it shines brightly.

Along with it came a note, indicating that Uncle Zhao's condition had entered its final stage.

……

Ming'an, I'm not sure if I can make it to your eighteenth birthday.

Fortunately, I prepared a gift for you in advance. It's a pity that when you wanted it most, it was during our most difficult time; I could only make you a straw piano before, and couldn't find such a beautiful crystal one.

Thankfully, perhaps my regretful passing will bring you a new life filled with the sounds of the piano.

If I make it to your eighteenth birthday, I will go to the post office to retrieve this ornament and give it to you personally. But if you receive this ornament, please don't be sad for me.

Smile, this is your favorite gift. See, you received it.

When you were little, you were very obedient, unlike other children your age who were mischievous. You always stayed quietly by my side. I remember once, you stared at a crystal piano ornament in a shop window, your eyes shining, for a long time. In the end, you didn't say anything, but just took my hand and said, "Uncle, let's go home." From that day on, I thought that one day I would definitely buy it and put it on your piano.

But time waits for no one. My body is like the plaster on the walls of this old house, peeling away little by little. No matter how much I try to repair it, it can't withstand the wind and rain. I was afraid I wouldn't live to see that day, so I secretly ordered it anyway. I had saved up the money for a long time, little by little, hiding it at the bottom of the tin box. Every time I put a little in, I thought, I'm one step closer to my son's dream.

Ming'an, being your uncle in this life is the greatest blessing for me, Zhao Zhuozhong. I'm not your father, but in my heart, I've always considered you my own son. I'm not very capable, I haven't been able to give you a comfortable life, and you've suffered so much because of me... I'm so sorry.

[From now on, remember to wear more clothes when it gets cold. If you have a sensitive stomach, don't eat cold food all the time, and make sure to heat up the dumplings in the fridge thoroughly before eating them. If you encounter difficulties, don't try to tough it out; go to Grandma Zhang or Aunt Chen in the community. I've already asked them for help.]

[Let this ornament accompany you in my place. Look how sparkly it is, just like your future. Your uncle isn't very educated and can't offer any grand pronouncements, but I just hope your path ahead will be bright and peaceful. Whether you play the piano or not doesn't matter, whether you become a great person or not isn't important, as long as you're happy, your uncle in heaven will be smiling.]

Stop being so frugal; spend money where necessary. And stop dwelling on the past and on me. Look forward, study hard, live well, and be an upright person in this world.

If... if you really miss me, play a tune. Wherever you play it, Uncle will hear it.

Okay, that's all for now. Happy birthday, my Ming'an. Uncle will always love you. Wishing you a bright future and peace every year.

……

“Um… Su Ming’an, right? My name is Zhao Zhuozhong. You can call me Lao Zhao or Uncle Zhao.”

"Uncle Zhao."

"Hey! Um, did they...did they tell you? It's just that...it's just that in the future, maybe...um...Ming'an, would you be willing to let your uncle be your dad?"

"Would you be willing to adopt me?"

"Uncle isn't very educated and his circumstances aren't great, but he'll definitely be happier than in the orphanage. Want to come with me? I promise you, as long as I have food to eat, you'll never go hungry."

"it is good."

……

"Phew, the fever's finally gone! You scared me to death. Are you still feeling unwell?"

"I don't feel bad anymore. Uncle, you didn't sleep at all last night."

“Hey, what’s the big deal? A few years ago, you were in poor health and got sick all the time. Once, you were delirious with fever and kept calling out, ‘Dad, don’t go!’... Hey, ever since then, I’ve felt like I’m going to never get rid of this kid.”

"Uncle..."

"Ok?"

"We will definitely be happy in the future, and I will make sure you have a good life."

……

"Ming'an."

"What's wrong, Uncle? Do you want some water?"

"It's nothing, I just wanted to call you. Seeing you there makes me feel at ease."

"what?"

"I was just thinking... what will you do all by yourself after I leave? You have to learn to take care of yourself. Eat on time, wear warm clothes when it's cold, don't always bury yourself in your studies, go out and run around, make friends..."

“You won’t leave. You said you’d see me go to college.”

"Silly boy, nothing in this world really lasts forever. As long as you live a peaceful and happy life, that's enough for me."

……

"Uncle, I made your favorite pumpkin porridge today. It's very sweet. Please try some."

"Mmm, it tastes good. Ming'an, come here... Do you remember something you said before?"

"what?"

You said, 'We will be happy forever.'

"I remember."

"Silly child...you've already given your uncle a good life. From the first time you called me 'uncle,' from every time you came home from school and ran towards me with a smile...you've given me the best life of my life."

"So... don't be sad. My life has been worthwhile. Absolutely worthwhile."

"It's just that I'll be a little reluctant to part with you..."

……

"Uncle, I will definitely make you happy."

"You brat, you're always saying nice things to flatter me. As long as you don't act so recklessly in the future and give me less to worry about, that will be the best of days!"

"These aren't just sweet words, they're a vow. We will be happy forever."

"Forever and ever..."

"Okay! Forever and ever! Anyone who goes back on their word is a little dog!"

"Pinky promise, hang yourself, for a hundred years, no take-backs!"

……

Su Ming'an raised his hand and made a slight hook with the illusory hand gesture on the wall.

The reflection of the clothes rack on the wall seemed to show someone gently hooking their finger with him.

He gazed at the reflection and suddenly understood.

"What?"

"So the pomegranate wine that Uncle Zhao had been hiding for so many years was right here with me."

He no longer needs to look for that jar of pomegranate wine.

Uncle Zhao is a dog who doesn't keep his promises; the dog hid the pomegranate wine in his heart. With each passing moment, as fire ignites in his heart, the wine warms, melts, and is absorbed.

……

If he was a full moon born incomplete, it was their teachings, the small acts of kindness around him, and this long yet short life that made him complete.

He was transformed into 19-year-old Su Ming'an.

Regardless of which path one chooses, whether glorious, ordinary, or arduous, its significance may lie in whether one remembers their destination along the way.

Sparse morning light streamed in through the window. He climbed into bed, took down the container of divination sticks he had found, and discovered that all the sticks had disappeared.

In a daze, he saw the correct divination stick lying quietly in the divination tube. There was only one, and the vermilion-red characters were clear, hot, and dazzling.

……

—No need to draw lots, live your own life.

……

"Don't go any further!" he heard a hallucination. "Do you know what's ahead?"

Outside the window stood a figure with flowing long hair, wearing a crown, and covered in snow-white tentacles, holding a sword in one hand and a knife in the other. He resembled a god, yet also himself.

The sunlight was unpredictable, hitting his pupils precisely where it would. Su Ming'an instinctively raised his hand to shield his eyes, glimpsing the light through his fingers—it looked just like a "flame."

"Who are you? What will my future be like?" he asked loudly.

An 18-year-old boy stands at the edge of the sunlight and asks a 19-year-old youth, "What will life be like later on?"

He received no answer; only the falling leaves of the sycamore trees lay beyond the sunlight.

……

"Ring ring—" Suddenly, the morning bell rang again.

……

"Quick! Ming'an! Wake up! This morning is Professor Zhu's calculus class, and being late will cost you points! Why are you still standing there staring out the window? There's nothing there!" His roommate waved his hand vigorously in front of him and ran outside. "Why are you holding that broken fortune-telling container? There's not a single fortune stick in it!"

Su Ming'an looked down and realized that what he was holding was just an ordinary fortune-telling container, without any fortune sticks or rabbit patterns inside.

Yes, he knew perfectly well that it was just an empty divination box from the beginning.

He always knew that.

He looked out the window, where there was only an ordinary sycamore tree, and no godlike figure.

Last night's dream gradually faded from his mind as he woke up, leaving only blurry images. He looked out the window, and as he gradually became more awake, he could no longer remember what kind of young man he had just hallucinated.

"I'm here! Wait for me, I've brought breakfast!" He put down the worn-out skewer container, picked up his backpack and rice balls, and hurriedly pushed open the door, stepping out into the bright sunlight.

This is truly a strange dream.

The sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly.

The young children chatted and laughed, their eyes shining, heading towards the future.

He remembered that he was going to a coffee shop today to meet a Bilibili employee. Then, he had to deliver clothes to another group of homeless people, visit a welfare home where the children were short of snacks, and later still, he had to stay up all night editing a game video, as many fans were waiting for him.

Tomorrow, she's going to a murder mystery game event organized by the Mystery Club, as well as a philosophy seminar. In the evening, she's also going to play games with Yueyue... Hmm, she's been looking forward to it for a long time.

Time is long.

Let's go.

The 18-year-old looked up.

My Zhai Xing OL.

—My unique life game.

……

Behind him, a divination tube silently appeared, along with non-existent vermilion characters.

Pianist Su Ming'an, scientist Su Ming'an, police officer Su Ming'an, doctor Su Ming'an, game up-loader Su Ming'an... countless "him"—some in their prime, some in their middle age, some with white hair and old age—smiled and sighed, transforming into vermilion birds that scattered and disappeared.

They transformed into a single, undeniable written language:

……

"He transformed into a vermilion-colored bird, flying towards a blue sky of no return, a sky called 'Salvation and Redemption.'"

"—That was Su Ming'an's true ending, a life lived in vibrant colors, decisive moments, and without regrets."

……

"The hero may slay the dragon, but he need not return with the princess, nor receive the king's reward, nor hear the cheers of his subjects, nor be promoted or enjoy fame and fortune."

"Because I know—a happy ending is the end of a story, but a story never has to end."

"If life is truly a game that can't be rewound..."

"Please forgive me, I cannot define it as 'perfect' in the conventional sense."

"As the most loyal player, I will still step into this grand life. Ahead may lie countless bad endings, traps of fate, and irreversible decisions. But the 'flame' has become my health bar, and the 'ideal' has become my mana bar—I firmly believe that I will ultimately become the 'strongest player' in this life."

"I am about to head towards my own azure sea."

"I don't need to draw lots, I don't need fate to decide for me, I don't need to wait for the dice to fall; I can walk out on my own."

"—Please wait for me next spring."

"When that time comes, I will return and tell you all the details—"

"The sea of ​​my ideal hometown, that vast expanse of blue where there is no longer poverty or wealth, no sorrow or pain, no hatred or strife..."

"What exactly does it look like?"

"There is neither poverty nor wealth, neither sorrow nor pain, neither hatred nor resentment."[2]

"That will be one,"

"Something worth dedicating your entire life to practicing—"

"A good game."

……

See you again.

"—Goodbye, Su Ming'an, the innocent young man who has never experienced the world."

See you again.

"Hello, the number one player who carries billions of worlds on his shoulders."

……

The wind swept through the new leaves of the sycamore trees, the rustling sound like countless whispers and farewells.

He strode forward without hesitation.

His silhouette blends into the bustling crowd, yet stands alone like a lighthouse in the vast sea of ​​people.

He is not afraid of water or fire.

—He smiled, and he leaped into the world.

……

……

【"Who drives me forward like fate?"】

【"The Myself striding on my back."】

Who, like fate, is pushing me forward?

"That's myself, striding forward behind me."

—Rabindranath Tagore, Stray Birds

……

-

[1] Herbert Spencer, Nine Sonnets of Love

[2] Yu Hua, The Seventh Day