The fluorescent lights of Heaven's Bargain Mart (天堂便宜市) flickered like dying stars—fitting, considering the tragic comedy that was his life. Yu Cheng, Master of Scanning Groceries, Champion of Price Checks, and future Conqueror of Absolutely Nothing, sighed as he glanced at his faded uniform. At least the badge was crooked—a small rebellion against the absurdity of it all. He plastered a smile on his face, a brittle mask barely concealing the exhaustion beneath, as he scanned groceries for a customer more absorbed in a shouting match on their phone than in acknowledging his existence.
Beep, Beep, Beep.
The scanner’s monotonous rhythm marked the seconds of his mundane existence, echoing in the sterile silence.
Customers surged and receded like a relentless tide, each interaction a fleeting ripple of annoyance in the stagnant pool of his shift.
A teenager, eyes like chips of glacial ice, approached the counter, her expression a blend of irritation and impatience. She tapped her foot, her gaze locked onto Yu Cheng with a judgmental stare. "Can you go any slower?" she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain.
Yu Cheng flashed her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 'Oh, I could try,' he replied, his tone pleasant enough to be mistaken for genuine. 'But I don’t want to ruin the magic of anticipation.'
The teenager rolled her eyes dramatically, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Yeah, whatever," she grumbled, snatching the bag from the counter once Yu Cheng finished. She spun on her heel, her dyed hair flipping as she walked away, muttering something about "useless workers." Yu Cheng watched her go, the bitter retort on his tongue swallowed down with practiced ease.
Next in line was an elderly man, his face creased with lines that spoke of years of hardship and discontent. He placed a cabbage on the counter, his brow furrowed as he pointed at the price displayed on the register. "Two yuan more than it said on the sign!" he barked, his voice gravelly and indignant.
Yu Cheng nodded, his expression one of practiced calm. "I apologize, sir. Let me check the price for you." He picked up the store intercom and called for a price check, his voice steady despite the man's glare. The elderly man crossed his arms, his foot tapping impatiently. "This place is always trying to cheat people," he muttered loudly, making sure everyone in earshot could hear. "Back in my day, shopkeepers had some integrity."
Yu Cheng offered a small nod, knowing better than to argue. "I'll make sure the correct price is applied, sir," he said once the price was confirmed, adjusting the total. The old man huffed, finally handing over the money with a begrudging scowl. "About time," he grumbled before shuffling away, still muttering about the injustices of the modern world.
Just as Yu Cheng allowed himself a moment to breathe, a group of boisterous youths barreled into the checkout area, their laughter echoing across the store. They jostled each other, one of them grabbing a pack of instant noodles from the nearby shelf and tossing it to his friend, who let it drop to the floor with a careless shrug. "Hey, watch this!" one of them shouted, nudging another towards a display stand. The boy stumbled theatrically, knocking over several stacks of goods, the packages scattering across the aisle.
Yu Cheng's jaw tightened as he watched the chaos unfold, the mess growing by the second. He stepped out from behind the counter, his voice raised but still restrained. "Excuse me, could you please be careful with the merchandise?" he called out, his tone carrying an edge of authority.
One of the youths, a lanky boy with a smirk plastered across his face, looked at Yu Cheng, clearly amused. "Chill out, man, it's just some noodles," he said, waving a dismissive hand. The others laughed, their mirth like nails scraping against Yu Cheng's nerves. He took a deep breath, stepping closer. "If you could kindly pick those up, it would be appreciated," he said, his eyes meeting the boy's in a silent challenge.
The boy hesitated, the smirk faltering for just a moment under Yu Cheng's steady gaze. Finally, he shrugged and bent down, picking up a few of the fallen packages. "Fine, fine," he muttered, tossing them haphazardly back onto the shelf. His friends, seeing the lack of enthusiasm, joined in, their laughter fading to grumbles as they helped clean up the mess.
"Thank you," Yu Cheng said, his voice even. The boys gave him a final glance, one of them muttering, "Buzzkill," before they wandered off, their energy subdued. Yu Cheng returned to his counter, the bitterness of the encounter lingering in his throat. This, he mused, is indeed training worthy of a Buddhist monk—the ceaseless practice of 忍 (rěn), endurance, in the face of idiocy. Experience, a harsh but effective teacher, had long instilled the wisdom of silence: speaking his mind only invited trouble, a luxury he couldn't afford.
As the hours bled into each other, the ache in his back deepened, a constant reminder of his physical servitude. His feet throbbed in silent protest, and the coffee in his styrofoam cup underwent a slow, agonizing transformation from lukewarm comfort to a rancid brew. Finally, a reprieve. He slipped into the breakroom, a cramped sanctuary filled with the stale aroma of disinfectant and overused microwaves. He collapsed onto a plastic chair, the flimsy material groaning under his weight.
His phone, a portal to a world beyond the confines of his reality, flickered to life, a kaleidoscope of fleeting images and empty promises. Social media posts showcased his old high school friends, bathed in the warm glow of laughter and camaraderie. Their smiles, vibrant and carefree, mocked his own weariness, their joy a painful reminder of everything he lacked.
A house party shot—warm lights, red cups, laughter frozen mid-action. He could almost feel the bass thumping, a sharp contrast to the silence that defined his own life. "Damn, how did I end up here?" he thought
Next, a bar photo. Friends posed in perfect outfits, the night’s caption capturing the glitz he’d never touched. They leaned close, secrets and laughter spilling over shared drinks, the kind of freedom he’d never tasted.
"Must be nice," he muttered, scrolling past a post of yet another engagement, the ring sparkling in a way that made him sick. What he wouldn’t give to trade this uniform for a silk robe, a beachside villa, and a world without consequences. Parties, women, travel—now that was living.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Then, a beach scene. Sun-kissed smiles, cocktail glasses held high. Among them, a couple leaned together, her ring catching the sunlight. An ache settled in his chest, a reminder of every missed chance, every road not taken.
Another image, a wedding. Friends wrapped around each other, the bride and groom beaming at the center, elegant and complete. They looked so happy, their lives so full—while he stood alone, an outsider to the moments he’d never have.
Parties, drinks, travel, marriage, large groups of friends—the very essence of pleasure seemed to exist solely within the confines of that tiny, illuminated screen. “One doesn't know the blessings they have (Shēn zài fú zhōng bù zhī fú; 身在福中不知福),” he muttered, tossing the phone onto the table with a sigh, the ancient proverb a bitter irony in his current predicament. They were living, savoring their youth and freedom. He was merely existing, trapped in the amber of his routine.
He hadn't partied, hadn't experienced the intoxicating blush of romance, hadn't even forged a close friendship since being cast out of his family home at eighteen. His life, a cycle of work, instant ramen, and the constant struggle for survival, felt like an unending winter, devoid of the warmth of human connection.
The minutes stretched into hours as Yu Cheng reluctantly left the break room, forcing himself back into the rhythm of his shift. The beeps of the scanner, the endless procession of indifferent faces, and the persistent ache in his body all blurred together. He moved mechanically, scanning items, responding to complaints, and smiling on cue, each action draining more of his already depleted energy.
As the evening wore on, the crowds thinned, and the store began to empty. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered, casting uneven shadows on the dull linoleum floor. Eventually, the final customers trickled out, and Yu Cheng completed his closing tasks—organizing the shelves, sweeping the aisles, and shutting down his register. With everything in its place, he finally approached the time clock, punching out with a weary sigh, the small act feeling like the end of a battle.
Stepping out of Heaven’s Bargain Mart, the cool night air, a stark contrast to the stale, artificial atmosphere within, filled his lungs, a fleeting reminder of the world beyond fluorescent lights and demanding customers. He shuffled towards the small park near his apartment, his feet heavy with the weight of his burdens, his thoughts like fallen leaves swirling in the eddies of a sluggish stream. The city, draped in the murky haze of light pollution, the star scape obscured by human folly, seemed indifferent to his existence, a vast, uncaring entity oblivious to the struggles of a single, insignificant soul.
The park was a small oasis of stillness in the urban jungle. He sank onto a worn wooden bench, his gaze lost in the dimness above, searching for a glimpse of something beyond his reach.
For a moment, he allowed himself to dream, to imagine a life free from the shackles of his current reality. A dream of freedom, a life unbound by the relentless grind of survival, a life where pleasure wasn't a stolen moment but a constant companion. He yearned for the freedom of the 逍遥 (xiāoyáo), the carefree wanderers of legend, unbound by worldly concerns.
Then, the veil of the ordinary shattered.
A subtle hum, barely perceptible, vibrated through the air, a discordant note in the symphony of the night. The leaves rustled, stirred by an unseen breeze, their gentle whispers carrying an undercurrent of unease. Yu Cheng sat up straighter, his senses sharpening. The air, once cool, seemed to shimmer with an unnatural warmth, a static charge raising the fine hairs along his arms. His heart quickened, his instincts warning him that something was amiss.
The sky, a canvas of hazy light, began to ripple, the familiar constellations twisting and writhing in a celestial dance of chaos. The distorted stars pulsed and throbbed, their faint glow intensifying until a blinding flash erupted, brighter than any earthly sun, momentarily erasing the familiar landscape from his vision. Yu Cheng raised an arm to shield his eyes, squinting against the brightness, his breath caught in his throat. Fear and awe gripped him in equal measure as the world seemed to unravel around him.
Millions of years ago, in the unfathomable depths of space, two black holes, celestial leviathans, had collided in a cataclysmic embrace. This cosmic dance of titans, a ballet of destruction and creation, had torn a rift in the fabric of spacetime, unleashing a torrent of raw energy across the universe, its echoes reverberating across the eons. By a cruel twist of fate, or perhaps by some unseen design, a wave of high-energy neutrinos reached Earth; one neutrino—a single particle of cosmic energy—reached Yu Cheng, a celestial messenger carrying the whispers of creation, traversing the vast expanse of the cosmos, a journey across unimaginable distances, to find this small, unremarkable park where Yu Cheng sat, lost in his dreams of freedom.
Yu Cheng blinked, momentarily stunned by the rippling sky and the afterglow of the celestial flash. His pulse thundered in his ears, a frantic rhythm that matched the chaos above. He stumbled to his feet, the wooden bench scraping against the ground as he pushed himself upright. "This is really strange (Hái zhēn shì xīqí; 还真是稀奇)," he thought, a wry smile touching his lips. A vast understatement in the face of the cosmic anomaly unfolding before him. He glanced around the park, half-expecting others to emerge from the shadows, drawn by the disturbance.
Instead, the world around him seemed frozen in time, a stillness that was at once comforting and disconcerting. The hum grew louder, vibrating through the air, making the very ground beneath him feel alive. Yu Cheng’s pulse quickened—this wasn’t just any celestial event.
"Is this it?" he whispered, the excitement bubbling in his chest. "The moment when everything changes?" His grin widened. If this was fate’s grand finale, his curtain call on the stage of existence, at least it had a touch of theatrical flair.
The sky twisted above him, constellations warping in ways that made his head spin. The neutrino, a phantom of cosmic energy, a wisp of creation itself, bypassed his physical form, interacting instead with something deeper, something more fundamental—his soul, the very essence of his being. The world around him dissolved into a kaleidoscope of swirling colors.
He felt a strange, disembodied sensation—a pulling, a stretching, a twisting, not of his flesh and bone, but of his very essence, as if his spirit were being unraveled thread by thread, the fabric of his being deconstructed and reformed in the crucible of cosmic energy. The sensation, though terrifying, also held a hint of liberation, a promise of transformation.
Yu Cheng gasped, his vision fracturing into fragments of light and shadow, his senses overwhelmed. He tried to hold on to something—anything—but his hands grasped at empty air, his body weightless, untethered from the earth. He could feel his soul, a shimmering thread, being drawn into the maelstrom, the energy surging through him, filling him with an intensity he had never known. Memories flashed before his eyes—his childhood home, the faces of his estranged family, the sterile aisles of Heaven's Bargain Mart, the moments of quiet despair and fleeting hope—all of it seemed to be slipping away, dissolving into the radiant void.
The last image imprinted upon his awareness was the worn wooden bench, unchanged. He watched, a detached observer, as his physical body slumped back onto the familiar wood, seemingly untouched, a discarded shell emptied of its essence. The park remained silent, the city indifferent to what had just unfolded, the universe continuing its relentless march forward, oblivious to the fate of a single, insignificant soul. Then, darkness consumed him.