In a Small Space, I Can See a Glimmer of Light In the Sea of People.

Writing is never about you. It is about whether you can use words to change the world—even if it’s just a small corner of the minds of a few key people. This may sound cold, but it is the most authentic rule of academic writing. Your teachers are not your real readers; they read your work out of obligation. The real-world reader owes you nothing. Similarly, the clichéd goal of “filling a knowledge gap” pales in comparison to the reality of infinite knowledge expansion. What truly matters is solving the “expensive” problems that readers actually care about. This is precisely why interdisciplinary writing is so fraught: if you cannot define “who the reader is,” writing becomes like shooting blindly in the dark. ...

There was dew under the eaves in the early morning. Disturbed by the waving hand of the breakfast stall owner, a fly fell into a freshly filled bowl of doufunao (tofu pudding). The owner’s hands were quick. The spoon, which had just been used for white sugar, deftly scooped the fly out and flicked it onto the sidewalk. She then smoothly pushed the bowl toward an old man who had just paid. The old man, usually quiet, was not the least bit muddled. “Why are you giving me the one with the fly?” “This one isn’t for you. Take the one next to it.” The owner moved the “cleaned” bowl of tofu pudding to the side of the bucket, leaving it for the next customer who paid. ...

The morning glow emerged. Standing at the intersection, he saw the rooftops of distant high-rises, bathed in golden sunlight. Up early, Lin Song pulled a thick fleece vest over his shirt and went out to wander the streets. In the vegetable market, people were hurriedly buying groceries. Some rode electric bikes to take their children to school, others queued in cars for the commute to work or delivered goods to businesses. Breakfast stalls were firing up their stoves. Lin Song strolled along with his hands in his pockets, appearing out of place. The laptop’s power light was stuck on. Lin Song forced a shutdown, and then it broke. It would no longer boot up. This machine had rehearsed its end countless times: a new battery, a new hard drive, a new keyboard, and, in the last two months, a new power cord. Years ago, Lin Song had started backing up the laptop’s data intermittently, but it had never suffered a significant failure, running stably day after day. Eventually, he forgot to back up the data again. This time, the destruction came like a landslide. Lin Song booked an appointment with a computer repair shop on Taobao and went there, carrying his laptop. He still felt it was just a minor circuit issue, that a simple reconnection would bring his laptop back to life. Two customers were at the counter, picking up their computers and checking if the repaired machines could withstand the test of continued work. Three technicians were busy at their respective workstations, heads down. The technician nearest the counter took Lin Song’s laptop, asked briefly about the symptoms, and began to disassemble it. “Just so you know, the repair fee will be around 200 yuan.” After finishing the diagnostic, he reassembled the dismantled machine and returned it to Lin Song, saying: “It can’t be fixed. The CPU is dead. It’s not worth repairing.” It was a troublesome situation, but Lin Song accepted this reality calmly. He looked at the mountain of computer components piled up in the shop and asked the lady boss, though he already knew the answer: “Do you sell second-hand computers here?” “Yes. What kind are you looking for?” “Something on the same level as my current machine. Do you have anything?” “Yours is a classic model. This black one is similar, from ‘21.” “How much?” “1800. If you use your original hard drive, 1650.” “Can my old hard drive still be used?” “We can take it out. Just put it in an external enclosure and you can use it.” “What operating system is on it?” “Windows 10.” “Okay, I’ll take this one.” “Scan the QR code on the counter.” Lin Song left the machine that had been with him for nearly ten years. The lady boss reluctantly valued it at 100 yuan for recycling. Lin Song headed home with his new laptop. Even as the stock market soars, all everyone talks about after dinner is the economic downturn. What’s the logic in that? In the first half of 2025, Alphabet’s revenue increased by 13% year-over-year, and its earnings per share grew by 35.5%. Nestlé announced it would cut 16,000 jobs over the next two years; its 2025 first-half report showed a 1.8% year-over-year decline in global sales and a 10.3% plunge in net profit. The general meaning is that social wealth is already overflowing. The main owners of this wealth control the most competitive industries. To protect the competitive strength of their industries, the powers that control wealth will not give more opportunities to the weak, bottom-level economic participants. Thus, capital, through its powerful ability to regulate the allocation of market resources, restricts the paths for small and medium-sized industries to gain greater competitiveness. And so, one can see a booming stock market advancing side-by-side with a withered individual economy. If you’re a small business, you might as well be content with your lot. As long as you can open your shop every day, you can earn some surplus, however small. It’s the same principle as stock trading: trading time for space. The size of your operation dictates the language you speak. The real economy and the financial market speak different economic languages. Zoran Mamdani—the son of a film director and a Columbia University professor—achieved an upset victory on Tuesday, being elected the 111th Mayor of New York. In the world’s most important financial city, over a million people chose to support him, something unseen in half a century. His rival suffered two disastrous defeats in just five months; all previous hopes now feel like a distant dream. Many expressed they were tired of the stalemate maintained by traditional powers for decades. The young people say, “Illusion is now a thing of the past.” The monk Tang Sanzang endured countless hardships to retrieve the scriptures, envying the Western Paradise. But one day, upon ascending the high platform where demons danced wildly, he realized it was merely a clumsy imitation of the original. He finished his last delivery. At the T-junction of Dingzi Bridge, he waited for the last traffic light. Once he got onto the South Second Ring Road, he could go straight home. He had been out since early morning. It was another exhausting day. By the time he got home, it was already past time to make dinner. Lin Song decided to just take a nap on the sofa. He slept past eight o’clock. Lin Song took a yellow windbreaker from the coat rack and put it on. This jacket, bought on Taobao, had a huge kangaroo silhouette printed on the back. With this logo, he could go to the “Mr. Rice” downstairs and eat his fill for just ten yuan. ...

After a decade of fluctuations, the Shanghai Composite Index has once again touched the 4,000-point mark. The Dow Jones Index has hit a historic high. The UK’s FTSE Index has hit a historic high. Japan’s Nikkei Index has hit a 34-year high. Global stock market indices saw an overall increase of 9.1% in the first half of the year, setting a new record. A soybean is a legume, about one centimeter in size. It can be eaten in its pod as edamame, or processed into tofu, soy milk, and other products. But that’s not why it has become one of the most profitable commodities in the world. Soybeans are rich in fat and protein, making them the primary feed for most of the world’s livestock. ...

“Fasting.” “Level 1 Care.” These were rather stimulating terms. On the first day of the “Golden September, Silver October” peak season, Lin Song checked himself into a hospital bed on the fourteenth floor of the Houhu campus. The lights in the ward were turned off just after 8 PM, but it was impossible to sleep. He closed his eyes, pulled the covers up to his shoulders, and forced himself to try. But it was contrary to his wishes. A kaleidoscope of colors spun endlessly in his mind, like a carousel. He could only watch and wait. ...

Lin Song felt as if his sky had caved in. Ordinarily, almost no one worries that the sky might one day collapse. Everyone understands that in this world, there are always people taller than themselves who will be the first to prop up that falling sky. On a leisurely holiday, lying on the park grass and gazing up at the sky, the wind is gentle, the sun is beautiful, and the sky has not caved in. All fantasies are of a boundlessly wonderful future: a job with more income, a bigger house, a more comfortable vacation. ...

The gods always protect those who peacefully endure hardship. As for those who unfortunately suffer calamity, it can only be said that their own fate is to blame, not that the gods failed to protect them. The above sentiment was a conclusion reached by Su Dongpo and his family as they journeyed down the river through the Three Gorges. He believed that if a man cannot control his body and mind, he cannot control his soul. Lin Song, however, believed that even if a man controls his body and mind, he may not be able to control his soul. ...

The sun provides the Earth with energy, but it is the monsoon that determines our environment. Whether it brings scorching drought or favorable rains, the monsoon arrives as promised, cycling tirelessly, year after year. If capital is the sun of the market, then consensus is its monsoon. Capital is the fundamental force that drives the market, but only when its participants reach some form of consensus can a real trend take shape. ...

It was another heart-pounding Monday morning. At 11:11 AM, the ChiNext board touched 2782 points, a new high for the past three years. Nearly a full year had passed since the last wave of public euphoria, and this time, the revelry had already lasted for two months. For the past three weeks, it had been a topic of hopeful conversation for everyone, regardless of whether they followed the market. Some sat in the shade of a tree, dreaming of the next new high; others, in their air-conditioned rooms, quietly reduced their positions. Some were rushing into the market, not caring whether they understood how it worked—a rising price is something everyone can comprehend. ...

Even as Wuhan’s weather entered the Chushu (End of Heat) solar term, the sweltering heat remained unbearable. The cicadas in the trees, having chirped through the entire summer, now sounded faint and weary. The scorching sun, high in the sky, was obscured by a thick blanket of mackerel-scale clouds, and the world instantly dimmed. Lin Song quickened his pace, planning to take advantage of the shade to slip under the overpass. But man proposes, God disposes. Just as he reached the middle of the road, the clouds were blown away, and the violent sun reappeared, its fiery rays beating down on the asphalt, making him feel dizzy. ...