“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. ...

Tuesday is members’ day at the Total gas station. If you go on this day, you can save a few dimes per liter, and the station also gives you a few discount coupons to use for your next fill-up. Lin Song hadn’t driven all day, but to avoid missing today’s deal, he decided to make a trip to Total after the sun went down. After filling up his Peugeot 508 and parking it in the underground garage, Lin Song sat in the car and scrolled through his phone for a while. According to a Nikkei report, Japan’s imports of Chinese cosmetics had jumped to third place, behind only South Korea and France. Chinese brands were appearing in Japanese department stores and drugstores. Apparently, complaints about being “uneasy with Chinese cosmetics” had decreased. ...

Early on a weekend morning, Lin Song had to go to Gaoqiao Fifth Road to pick up some goods. He had received the call from the freight yard on Thursday notifying him the shipment had arrived. He had delayed for a day; thankfully, there weren’t many heavy trucks on the Third Ring Road on a Saturday. On the Gusao Shu interchange viaduct, on the ramp turning from the Airport Expressway toward Gutian Second Road, a black Volkswagen tailgated Lin Song’s Peugeot 508. He could clearly see the numbers on the license plate in his rearview mirror—obviously an unsafe following distance. Lin Song hugged the inside line of the lane, gently pressed the accelerator, and swiftly rounded the circular ramp. By the time he straightened out, the black Volkswagen was no longer in sight. The feeling of being pressured finally eased. ...

He hadn’t checked the mailbox in his building’s entryway for a long time. Remembering that an important piece of mail was supposed to arrive recently, Lin Song rummaged through a miscellaneous box in his bookcase and was relieved to find the mailbox key still there. Three days ago, Lin Song had peered through the mail slot, scouting it out. There appeared to be an EMS envelope inside. But he had long since lost the habit of carrying keys, so he didn’t know for sure what was in there. ...

Everyone has their own “soul breakfast.” For Lin Song, it’s pan-fried buns, which must be paired with two fried eggs. If a breakfast shop only serves braised eggs, Lin Song considers them insincere. Sharing a table with Lin Song were a young daughter and her earnestly instructing mother. The daughter had wanted pan-fried buns; the mother had ordered steamed dumplings. When the girl saw the pan-fried buns in Lin Song’s bowl, a look of disappointment crossed her face, as she had none. “You just eat your food properly. Finish these hot dry noodles, then have two steamed dumplings.” “A fly, a fly! Shoo it away, shoo it away!” “I’ll go see if the steamed dumplings are ready yet.” “I want to eat from the big bowl. And I want diced pickled radish.” A waitress, clearing tables, repeatedly shouted into her headset microphone: “Special deal today! Shumai are buy one, get one free!” ...