C1 (1/2)

”Today, the 100th day has passed since the disappearance of the airline MH370. There is still no news of this unfortunate flight, and its...”

I brushed my teeth in front of the mirror and listened to the news on TV in the living room.

”Isn't there any good news in this world?” A girl was in the living room, cleaning up the wreckage of last night's party while complaining loudly.

I tried my best to recall her name, but I couldn't remember what it was. I only knew that she was brought here by San Mao, that ever since my parents passed away, my days had been extremely chaotic. I often brought a variety of different girls home, so much so that I often confused their names.

Shaking my head to stop thinking about her, I brushed my teeth and shaved myself, slapped some refreshing water on my face, splashed some cologne on my armpits, raised my hand to my nose and sniffed. I looked at myself in the mirror and suddenly felt a little sad, after today I would be thirty-two years old, my youth like the ginseng fruit in the mouth of a pig, about to disappear before I had the chance to taste it.

”Biting a dog isn't news. Biting a dog is.” I went into the living room and rummaged on the sofa for the T-shirt I was going to wear today. ”The good news is that everything is normal. No news.”

”Happy Birthday!” The girl put her arms around my neck and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. There was a taste of alcohol in her mouth.

”You haven't brushed your teeth yet?” I pushed her away.

I dressed and went out of the room just in time to see the neighbors on the other side push open the door. I nodded back at him and he hurried down the stairs in front of me, as if to avoid the embarrassment of greeting me. We were separated by a twenty-centimeter wall, but for five years I didn't know his name. Everyone in this day and age had a great deal on his mind, and no one was particularly concerned about the appearance or disappearance of another person who had nothing to do with him, just as a gnu who lived in the grass of the African prairie turned a blind eye to his companions who had been killed, left behind, or hunted on the way of the new disciples.

I set the car on fire and waited for the girl in the car. After a few minutes, the girl rushed out of the corridor and I started the car before she could sit still. ”Why is it so slow?” I said snappily.

The railings of the underground parking garage opened soundlessly. Our car slipped out like a fish and entered the same fish like silent and listless traffic flow. It was just like before, a day in this city.

But maybe it's not the same today

”A big discovery! A big discovery!” The Taoist rushed into my office waving a knife of paper.

I was browsing the news on my computer, bored. As the compensation manager of this small insurance company, I didn't have any urgent, necessary work to do, all I had to do was make plans and goals for my people to carry out, and pretend to be busy all day in front of them.

”What is it?” Without batting an eyelid, I continued to watch the results of yesterday's game on the screen.

The Taoist is not a Taoist. Like me, he is also the manager of the compensation department. His real name was Li Quandao, and he was an extremely talkative person who liked to study so-called mysterious areas. For example, before 2012, he had obtained the conclusion that December 21, 2012, was the date of the invasion of Earth by aliens based on certain so-called clues that seemed to have no connection to each other. According to him, work was his life away from work, and the study of the culture of mystery was his main occupation. Compared to Newton, he said that Newton's main profession was alchemy and magic, and that physics was only a by-product of those studies.

”Look …” The Taoist slapped the paper on my desk, sending a cloud of dust flying in the air.

Glancing sideways, I saw that the one on top was a printed page with a large, eye-catching, red caption — ”A Family Destroyer in Beijing. A family of six was murdered. The killer was the male owner!”

I look away, back to the screen. On my thirty-second birthday, I was not in a good mood, nor did I have the interest to offer any polite perfunctory response to the Taoist.