“Look at me, look at me!”

She pointed at her own round face. “Do you think I look like it? Besides, who would put core technology online? You’re so unreliable!”

“I’m just a loyal heart devoted to the motherland, but you’re a real treasure over here!”

The salted fish William Clark with a strong country dream sighed deeply.

“Gugu... gugu!”

As they spoke, a strange sound was suddenly heard. His gaze shifted and landed on her stomach.

“Gugu... gu!”

Right after, his own stomach started to rumble too. He remembered the sweet potatoes he’d left aside and hurried to bring them over. The tomato dish was still there, plus a bottle of red wine.

“You should contribute something too, this isn’t enough to eat.”

Evelyn pursed her lips, went to get two steamed buns, some porridge and pickles, and a big enamel mug filled with something that looked like milk powder.

“What’s this?”

“Nutrient supplement.”

“Is there a food shortage here?”

“Production was already reduced before the war, and now...”

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘the war’?”

“Just all kinds of crises—energy, ecology, and so on. Countries fighting in all sorts of messy ways, it lasted five or six years. It’s much better now. My country has been restoring the environment, cultivating high-yield crops, and developing nutrient supplements.

This supplement is mixed with water, and there are also pill-shaped ones. The community distributes them to us every month. They even used to give out food coupons.”

“What?”

“Food coupons!”

Evelyn, afraid he wouldn’t understand, explained, “A kind of purchase voucher. Each person could only buy a set amount of food per month, but they were abolished many years ago.”

Impressive!

William Clark suddenly felt a sense of humanity’s cycles.

...

Dinner wasn’t anything special, just plain food.

But Evelyn ate with satisfaction, her eyes squinting happily. She even wanted to have a drink, but when she learned it was (red) wine, she cautiously declined.

The nutrient supplement tasted like very diluted milk, dry and slightly sweet.

After the meal, she generously poured hot water for them, each with a small stool, and they continued chatting.

William Clark was interested in that enamel mug and asked, “You have these here too?”

“My grandfather’s.”

“How long has he been gone?”

“Not long ago, just in his sixties.”

In his sixties?

William Clark did the math—oh, born in the 1980s.

“I’ll briefly tell you about my side. My world is mostly peaceful, but the international situation is complicated, and the pandemic is still ongoing. My country is very strong, but people are caught in endless competition, housing prices are terrifying, hair loss is incurable, young people don’t want to get married, and most people live pretty tough lives.”

“Then how come you’re so idle?”

“You can tell?”

“It’s obvious.”

“I’m just lucky. My parents built up a family business, so I don’t have to work so hard. I do nothing all day, just mess around everywhere. Oh, right!”

William Clark remembered the cassette player he’d also left aside. The tape was still inside. He said, “I bought this today, haven’t listened to it yet.”

“A song?”

“Yeah.”

He pressed the switch.

“Shasha... shasha...”

The tape spun, bringing its unique background noise, a bit like wind, like flowing water, like when you fell asleep watching TV as a kid and the screen turned to static.

The prelude began, and a gentle voice sang:

“The southern breeze brings coolness, the nightingale sings, the flowers under the moon all fall into dreams, only the night-blooming jasmine...”

Oh, it’s this song.

He was born in 1995, but he loved old songs and old movies.

At first, it was his parents’ influence. Later, as his own taste developed, he sought them out himself. Especially because of his job—having to hype up all sorts of junk—he developed a kind of rebelliousness and liked them even more.

The man who sold him the tape once said, tapes are analog sound, while CDs and MP3s are digital. Analog sound may not have the best quality, but the tone is softer and warmer. Digital sound is hard and tiring to listen to for long.

He found it mysterious—tone can be warm or hard?

But listening now, whether it was the equipment, the singer’s style, or this magical night, there really was an invisible softness caressing his eardrums, slowly flowing in the night.

“I love this vast night, I love the nightingale’s song, and I love the flower-like dreams, embracing the night-blooming jasmine...”

Evelyn looked surprised, as if she rarely heard this style of music, but was quickly drawn in, resting her chin in her hands, swaying gently.

The bedroom light was warm, and the rain was still falling.

Chapter 5: Kept Man

When the song ended, she clapped. “That was beautiful! Who’s the singer?”

“Teresa Teng.”

“A singer from your side?”

“She passed away over twenty years ago, but classics are eternal. Hey, do you have any celebrities over there?”

“Our entertainment industry is super developed—almost all virtual celebrities.”

“Huh?”

“Virtual celebrities! It’s been popular for twenty years. Real actors and singers can only perform in plays, operas, or on gala stages. Everyone suspects the government is behind this.”

“Why?”

“Real celebrities don’t produce anything, lack education, waste resources, yet earn so much. They’re natural public figures, easily collude with capital, influence the masses, a bunch of rotten apples, and bring all sorts of bad trends.”