The room booked was on the fourth floor, which was the top floor of this building, with a small window on the upper corner of the wall on the left hand, which was on the opposite side of the door. The room was, above all, relatively small in its size, and the window was even smaller than the size of a TV. The air in the room was damp and odorous, which might because this room had not been rented for a rather long period of time. In a place of this sort, one had no intention to stay any longer for the sense of oppression and suffocation that the cramped room entailed.

A person in heavy coat and shoes came out slowly of this cold room, locked it up, tucked the card cautiously into the inner pocket of the sweater, and wandered towards the door of the elevator. No noise was made as the thick carpet had neatly covered every inch of the ground to screen the chillness and, simultaneously, provide the guests with an artificial sense of warmth.

Who is this guy? Have you ever seen him before? I inquired you all of a sudden.

Nay, you replied curtly in my imagination, with a strange and even reproachful look on your face who must think that I am crazy or even mad to make a connection between you two who are totally stranger to each other, pray tell me the invitation that tempts your formation of such a ridiculous and abrupt idea.

By no means, I retorted firmly, you must have seen him.

It was supposed that you remained nonchalant to my comment and stared at me like a sculpture.

Candidly speaking, I remarked, or to put it another way around, you are precisely the man.

The door of the elevator opened slowly with a screechy voice, disturbing the stagnant air in the long corridor. He walked swiftly inside——it was empty, yet the bottom of the third floor was bright. He took little consideration in this trifling thing and pressed ONE with the corner of his phone. It was curious to do so perhaps, but it should not be that curious if you have found that the bottom TWO was missing——the building had three bottoms only.

He treaded downstairs and walked past the gate of the hotel in which he stayed. It was near the college he graduated a couple of years ago. This building could hardly be called a hotel, as it was small, fragile, and humbly and homely decorated, overshadowing him with a sense of foreboding. There was no clear invitation outside, the only thing could be seen was the name of it. Excellent Holiday Business Hotel, it said, with red lights to brighten it. Probably it was because this location was far from the city center, making it the last place people wanted to visit. So, the owner of this building paid no attention to its decoration and just left it to sink or swim. A dirty black cat was tied to a column of the gate on its neck, who was lying there with tediousness. When he stepped past it, the cat turned first its left ear then its head to him out of instinct, which seemed to be a turret of a tank beginning to aim its target with a radar on its top rotating. It was his footsteps that disturbed its repose, yet the cat showed no sign of standing up and attack him for its neck was tied firmly. In this way, after several endeavors, it just gave up and succumbed to the current status. The situation of this cat reminded him of his own condition of life.

He was a man of middle age, whose hair became partially silver though not large in scale, which also worried him very much. He viewed it as the commencement of his entering the stage of old age, which had long begun before he had any time and chance to recognize or realize——he was always busy or, to put it in another way, was always kept busy by something in his life. When one stopped to acquire new things, his life was doomed to be dominated by stagnation, which was the reason why many folks of his age found and complaint that their work was mechanical boring. People of his age tended to realize that the process of their lives was accumulating its speed towards the tomb, not because time flews faster, but because of their sense of time was blunted by the passing of time itself. As kids, he was always busying turning around and check the time, for he was eager to get rid of class time, which was long and tedious. But this action now was developed into a habit of time-saving. He frequently checked his phone for time, hoping that he had not missed too much precious time in his life doing nothing. Probably that was the difference between a man and a boy.

He worked, as an online Math teacher, for an education company, which was established after the technological revolution, whose features rapidly took appearance since the beginning of the year 2028. That was twenty or even thirty years ago, a relatively long time for his own life process. He was a lad of in his early twenties merely, who was lack of social experience, who was eager to make money on his own just as the youngsters in that epoch did, and who was desperate to show to his parents that their devotion on him including a large sum of fees paid for tuition in his middle school and expenses offered to cater to his fragile body finally paid off.

His parents, who were both from middle income families, spent most of the money for him as the tuition fees. He once remembered that when he was little, there was a maid and a man servant in his house. The maid was allocated with some clean work while the man servant was for some etiquettes when there were guests to attend to. Yet when he was in primary school, he did terrible in math. His mom, who was also a math teacher, had no time nor energy for him at home. She was busying with works at her own school, as she was a young teacher at that time, she was forced to do extra work and supervise two or three classes as class master. Still, as the primary school required all teachers to improve themselves, she, who was only a tertiary school graduate, had to take courses of adult education programs. That meant she had to check the homework of the students during the day, and focused on her own education during the night. Surely, he knew, that his mom had no time to take care of him, and it could be reasonable for her to get impatient on his procrastination of homework. His dad, he recalled, did loved him and tended to show his tenderness. Yet, he came home seldom for his work, which was kept secret to his family. So, most of his youth was spent with his grandparents, who had almost no experience in taking care of kids. During the summer, he fell ill frequently for an overwhelmingly usage air-cooling system. When his mom came to see him in the morning, a comic book was tucked into his hands and again he was left alone until night came. When he got home late at night, he was sorry to see his mother sitting by the table doing her own homework from the program. Because of this, he was sent to math classes outside to make some improvements. Since that time, the man servant was dismissed for they could no longer afford two servants at home. And when he was in middle school, it seemed to be that most of his subjects needed to be taught. The teachers in his school paid no attention to him and rapidly sneered at those who refused to come to their own classes after school. In the second year of his junior middle school, the maid was also dismissed. She was a young sort of fellow who worked without a word of complaint. Sometimes, he even invited her to sit down and watch TV with him. He was desperate to chat with someone for he was eager to express his own feelings to people around him. The young girl was, at first, shy to talk to him, but gradually, they became close and she agreed to sit down and watch with him. She was a bit thin, but her body was full of energy. She was not a fragile type, but a girl nearly as robust as a man. One thing of her that caught his attention most were her eyes. Her eyes, unlike those of his neighbors and classmates, were big and pristine, giving him a sense of security and trustfulness, which used to glimmer. Instead of running and jumping with other young fellows in his community, he loved to stay with her quietly and watching TV. He called her “Sister” and she just called him “you” in return. From their conversations, he learnt that Sister grew up in a small town far from this city, so she had to rent an apartment by the center of the city, making it easy to come to work.

“How is your town like?” was his question.

“Small, and, poor, to some kind,” she remarked, frowning a bit, “But quite nice in its air and water. Weather permits, it won’t be bad to go there with your friends. It’s suitable for a small adventure team, you know, there are fields, pools, narrow lanes.” She made a gesture of a monster, pretending to scare him.

When she said these words, he could see that her eyes were glistening with pride and rejoice, she was a bit more talkative when there was nobody around. Sometimes, he had the intention to ask her if she would like to stay with him for life, not as master and servant, but as husband and wife. He thought that marriage probably meant to stay together and live together. To stay with her, he considered, could free him of all worries. He once prepared for long to seek a chance to tell her this, yet failed to express when the time really comes as she had already been dismissed at that moment. He was even not informed by his parents. He only knew that she did not come for a long time.

One day when he was on his way to the classes, he saw her on a bike, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. He came up to her, wanting to figure out whether she was Sister.

“Hello.” He said to her.

She was surprised to find that it was he. And he asked many questions about her. She was married and, obviously, aged to some extent. Her hands were more callus these days and her face and body seemed to be dropsy because of lack of rest. Her eyes were dull and turbid, which resembled the eyes of an experienced woman than an innocent girl. She complaint the hardship of pregnancy, the cultivation of her child, and her bad-tempered husband, who was also a villager without much education. He was, she said, a drunker and when he got drunk, she became the only accepter of his violence. The child, according to her description, was a bit naughty and seldom listened to her, as she was in a lower position when faced with her husband in her family. When she talked about this, she smiled bitterly and said, “It was fortunate to work for your family, as your parents respected me always.”

They exchanged their means of connection and departed.

When he got home that night, he sent her a message and comforted her about her living. She thanked him and they chatted about many cheerful moments during that time like old friends. Finally, he talked about his affection to her.

“I knew that already.” She replied, but this line was quickly withdrawn, and a new line appeared as a substitution: “Really, that’s amazing.”

Before he had time to type his words, she replied quickly: “But you know, there can never be any romantic relations between us. One, we have different family backgrounds, and your mom and dad will never allow you to marry a country girl. You are educated and I am not, so we have different tastes and habits. Two, I am older than you. Three, I had a boyfriend at that time.”

No, she had not. He knew that, as one of the items for recruiting a maid of his family was to be single, fearing that the maid could lead thieves into the room. But he pretended not to express his really feelings, and replied to show his regret.

Granted, he precisely was such a person, fully educated by the values of the social culture, and tried to obey without any hesitation. He believed that this culture, which was boasted to enjoy a history of thousands of years and whose current version was a mixture of the finely condensed experience of the past and a suitable adaptation into the modern world, could be an appropriate guide for his life. Despite the fact that he was dissatisfied with being normal, yet according to the values of the culture, to live the life of an ordinary mortal, might be enough, for distinguishing person remains a minority. This conception was different from his peers, who were dreamers of the future and adventurers of the present, and who tried to earn everything that was at hand. They never mocked at his ordinary dream openly, but did betray a sense of sneery sometimes in some casual discussions with him.

Yet it was not an easy job even to fulfill his ordinary dream. He worked assiduously and industrially to earn his own living. In that epoch, the world was divided in to several major powers. The whole America, including the north part and south part, was dominated by the United States alone. The European Union, finding their own power decreasing rapidly, was reshuffled under the directions of the German government, taking more countries into its rule by offering them more political and commercial benefits. It was then renamed as the Continental Union. India, the country with the world’s greatest population, had taken hold of all the minor countries around it, besieging the southern parts of China. China was still independent and indifferent among the disputes and wrangles of the world. The Russia Federation, however, after its failures in incessant wars against the United States, fell finally under the regulations of the Continent Union under the advocation of the Unite States, giving up its secret intentions to invade China and enlarge its boundary. The African countries, under the pretext of cooperation and fight against the invasion of the white men, forged a tighter link for self-protection, and was exceeding India as the country that held the largest population in the world. At that time, the economy and currency were still controlled by the United States. Many countries enrolled in the Currency Organization to share the use of dollar with the US, fearing that the economic crises might take their fortunes accumulated for years away at once.

The price of offering one class of two hours, according to the rule, was 10 Digital Dollars, which was just enough for him to afford one meal a day. In order to earn more, he had to apply for more classes per day, and his salary increased swiftly to 20 DDs, 40 DDs, and finally 80 DDs. He worked around the clock and earned around 1200 in a month. This could be a piece of good news for him, and he dialed his parents that night when he received his monthly wage. His parents were also happy to hear this new and make some slight encouragements in the following conversation. He made up his mind to save some money for the future and make preparation for his coming marriage. He was grateful to his future mother-in-law, who agreed this arrangement and even persuade her husband to accept him as his daughter’s future husband. He got no apartment, no car, and not even a profitable job, and that’s why he was grateful.

He got a son, McRobinson, a year after his marriage. He gave his son this name for his own name was Robinson, and his name came from his dad, Robin. McFate, as Nabokov described, means the son of fate, in this way, McRobinson means the son of Robinson, which was pretty rational and acceptable. His wife, who was his classmate in middle school, was everybody but an assiduous worker. They got married soon as their parents were old friends, instead of the young themselves really loved each other. She was pretty care about her own appearance and frequently immersed herself in romantic illusions. She hoped that their marriage life could be romantic in a couple of ways, which she put down on a piece of paper in the form of a list.

One, they could attend to their kid together.

Secondly, she would like to check his phone whenever she like.

Thirdly, she would like to cook meals with him.

Forth, she wanted to go with him every time he went shopping or for a walk.

Fifth and finally, she wanted him to cater to her own somatic desires in bed, pleasing her with measures and postures she designated.

For the first one, he had no objection. They ought to take care of their kids together, that was a part of parental responsibility. The second item invaded his own privacy and he was greatly reluctant to show her his phone. He was, originally, a man of an immense sense of privacy. The fact that he never put his true heart into his diary can prove this point clearly. Diary in the middle school, as it seemed, could serve solely as a time killer and a measure to improve one’s writing skills. Of these two functions, the latter was given priority as his spare time was very limited and that was the only way he could relax and make improvements simultaneously. The third one, well, he would love to, but he tried to avoid as she was not a good cook fit enough to cook the dishes with him. The fourth thing, once or twice could be fine, but if all the time, it would grow monotonous. And the fifth one, well, hum...

Days past quickly and their son was allowed to attend middle school, and every time he saw his wife scold and hit him, he was thinking whether he loved his son, who did bring him with excitement at the beginning of his birth, but this excitement, as it happened, soon became an additional satiation. He viewed his jobs to his son as a kind of responsibility, without any emotional love. To his wife, probably more a companion, a woman to live with than one that he could complain to or talk with. He sometimes wondered why he got married, for love? Of course not. He was confused but had no time nor chance to regret about his impetus. He felt that he was deceived by the girl’s appearance, who looks slim and pretty, and gentle. He felt, as he was not allowed by his parents to make girlfriends in school, that he would like to cling her into his arms if possible, to kiss, to touch, and to...

Yet she became a middle-aged woman and was bad-tempered after their son was born. Every imagination about her of his was gone with the passing of time. What would happen if he rejected the invitation of his mom that day of showing him to that girl? What would happen if they did not give birth to that child? He had no courage to think about the answers.

What deteriorated that situation was a change of policy in the company. One day the manager came to him and said that the standards of the class was changed. In the past, there was no students below, and all that required was his own monologue. The new policy asked him to talk to a virtual student and attend to all the responses of it. What’s more, he was also ordered to adjust his accent and rate of speech, as the artificial intelligent supervisor was unable to figure out some phrases in his sentences. But my students understood me well in the past, he argued. No, said his manager, you must serve two masters, you must serve both the student and the AI. That was the answer. Online courses, it seemed, was less convenient than physical classes he took in the past when he was in middle school. And, it seemed to him, as his son was now taking extra online courses for improvements, it makes no difference to learn online or off-line. Someone said that social learning made human beings human beings, and animals animals as they were lack of this ability. That was completely bullsh*t, he thought. Every generation was doing the same thing as the last generation, what differed them was their improvements in methods of doing things, men themselves made no progress at all. Yet that was the worst point for men, as they were unable to realize this fact and boasted their own intelligence so often, fearing others might neglect them. Why men just pushed others forward doing same things without a stop, he did not know why.

He stopped by a large advertisement on the wall, which was one recruiting experienced teachers for tuition. The whole piece of still there, but grew worn for years of weathering. He came up and have a look, it had been a long time to see ads of this kind. The date was set around twenty years ago. He remembered that the government ordered no private tuition institution should exist in the country, which was because of an increase in inequality in education resource allocation. The regulators supposed that rich could get better teachers with money, while the poor could not. In this way, a large bunch of private teachers went out of work and became the competitors of public school and online teachers. He was actually forced to teach math as he was a graduate in English, math was not his advantage but disadvantage. But there was no choice for him, he had a family to feed, and his parents to care about, and his parents-in-law to cater to. There seemed to be too many people to take care of, and if he refused to marry, whom he needed to take care of were merely his parents and himself. He left that piece of paper behind and continued walking. He remembered that there was a small mall here, and he needed to buy a bottle of water. The street was bleak, the wind blew mild but brought him a sharp chillness. It was the second time he came here. The last time was for college, but this time was for business.

He came into the mall, and the warm air gushed out the moment he lifted the blanket on the door. The decoration was almost the same as last time. Goods were neatly organized and there were varied of them on the shelves. The only difference was that there was not a single man inside. All cash were paid by automatic system, which took your identity once you arrive and finish the payment once you left. He came swiftly to the shelf with a big SPIRIT on it. He took one or two bottles of whisky, and lifted them up under the broad lights. The brownish liquid inside was tempting him to pay for it. The other bottle contained, as the laymen described, similar things, yet in his eye, they were different. The color of liquid in this bottle was a bit lighter than the first, giving it a yellowish sort of color. Of these he loved the latter better, for it presented a more natural process of maturity, the former, however, seemed to be largely artificial. He yawned because of his tiredness and confidently turned the bottles aside and departed for WATER. He chose one that was homely packed and medium size for its low in price, and then, went towards the exit. The bottle was frigid in his hands like a lump of ice, whose shape was made convenient for him to grasp and whose coldness had driven away part of his drowsiness.

On his way back the hotel, he walked past the gym he once came with his roommate. It was the first time he came here at night. He got closer to see the inside, but, to his surprise, the door was not locked. A huge smell of mold came to his nose. He came in without hinderance and walked around. The floor creaked under his feet like broken ice. There was nothing in it, it was all empty. He recalled that at that time, the gym was filled with people, and the coach, who was a rather thin man, cajoled him to buy a card for about one year. He then noticed that this gym had been closed even before his graduation from college and had been empty since then. Granted, the poor performance of the economy, the low salary, and the inconvenience in transportation all deprived the chance of this place to be visited by folks. He was tired of making ends meet under such context, everything was gloomy. Sometimes, he would like to be a piece of rock on the land, which would be both free of concerns and immortal. But stones could have worries, he thought. Just on that way back to college, his roommate and him came across a hound. Dogs in the villages were used as guards and were ferocious when compared to their city counterparts. A stone was picked up by his roommate and threw against the dog, which was finally drew away by their attacks. The similar scene was staged even on his son. In this way, even a stone could not be carefree, he considered.

He walked past the gate of the hotel, there were a group of men strangely gathering at the window. They made loud noise in discussing with the owner about cash and room allocation. One of them said he refused to stay in the room at the end of the corridor, the other complaint that the room had no window.

“Stop,” the owner said, “you get what you pay for. You guys won’t expect to get a presidential suite with cash for a standard room, hum?”

He unlocked his door and turned the lights on. The window had not be opened since his entry for he feared that the cold air might come in. He lay on the bed and charged his phone. He felt unease of some sort and stood up to see. The room was decorated in a quaint way, with a TV in the front and a black wooden cabinet underneath. The cabinet was a long one, with gold lines on it as ornaments. He put his bag and water on it. He opened the bottle, put some into his own vacuum cup to mix some cold water with hot ones. He drank half of it and put it down on the table by the bed. In front of his bed was a door with a mirror on it. He pulled the door and found it was a shelf for clothes. A large painting was hung right above his bed. It was a painting of a woman’s face, which was an artificially made image, not a real person’s photo. The toilet was on the left side of the bed, with a transparent glass wall. He found nothing strange and lay down to sleep, as he had to cater to the work tomorrow early in the morning. He checked the time, it was 9:50 p.m.

He tossed and turned restlessly in bed, feeling his tiredness all faded away. He got up from bed a couple of times for toilet. He was curious as he did actually too that much of water and when he finally felt that he had finished, it was 10:58 p.m. He lay on bed, trying to sleep. He felt the world around him was rolling about, and dizziness came to him quickly. Just at that time, someone pulled off the plug on his side of the wall, making a clear sound of metal frictions. He woke up with a start, scolding in his heart that how come one could do such thing late at night. He realized that it was already 11:53 p.m.

He turned on his phone and listen to music, hoping this can rid him of the interference from the outside, and by the time when he lost conscious, he did not know the precise time at that moment.

Hearing footsteps came and went outside, he felt a mild wind came to him, and realized that someone was blowing on his face. At first, he paid no attention, yet he suddenly noticed that he was not at home. He felt his body was separated into small pieces and they all trembled as they were experiencing freezing cold. The muscles on his back began to shiver incessantly and finally became stiff, which reminded the time that he was repairing computer when the electricity went through his body.

Open your eyes, a voice said. He hesitated and opened his eyes obediently. The room was still and stuffy, everything was there, nothing changed. He tried to turn on the light but found that his hands were out of control. He could not make them move now. He turned his eye balls to the left corner and saw, through the transparent wall, dimly his wife and son were romping in the bright toilet, yet his own head seemed to be stuck on the pillow, unable to turn even a small angle.

By the dim light which came in through the window, he could see a woman staring in front of him steadily. He tried to sat up, but all in vain. Every sense of him became acute as he could hear definitely all sounds in this room, the crack of the air conditioner, the footsteps in the staircase outside, and the falling of the marbles of the upper floor. The mirror in front of him seemed to be a photo, and he himself was there lying on the bed, with white cloth on his body. It seemed more like a mourning room than a guest room of a hotel. The cabinet, however, looked solemn and lifeless, which reminded him of a coffin.

But it is the top floor, how come there are marbles falling on the roof top? The ground in the corridor are covered with carpets, why can I hear their foot steps such clearly? And the air-conditioner, I never turn it on. What actually happens? It is so stuffy here, some one is going to smother me.

With a sudden cough, he sat up straight and found himself in complete darkness, not a soul in sight, only the dim light from the window could be seen. There was something frosting attached to glass, which was different from the transparent glass of the toilet. With the help of that light, he raised from the bed and came to the window, decided to unlock it and let some fresh air in. It was a vague, yellowish light, just like the liquid, which was his favorite color for spirits. He screwed and turned, but was still unable to open it. Finally, he realized that his bolt should be pulled up to let the window open. With a hard effort, he unlocked the bolt on the frame of the window. One more step, and he could easily get rid of this terrible atmosphere, he thought. He pushed open the window with all the strength he could gather at that time.

He stretched his head to look afar, but was depressed by what he had seen. Outside the window was nothing but another long corridor, seemingly endless.

Four years of college pass in a flash, and there are only a few things that can leave a deep memory, let alone much worth remembering.

My four years of college can be called lonely, and when I graduated, I looked back, finding merely two professors, one or two friends, and a group of canteen aunts who can be recognized by listening to the voice that deserved to be keep in my memory.

But the essence of man is loneliness. Every one knows that. Perhaps the saddest thing is that people will give four years of their short lives to the university, stay here for four years, but when they leave, there is no trace of remembrance, and if they pass by by accident in the future, they will not generate a sense of belonging, so what is the meaning of such kind of life?

Perhaps we need to think deeply about it.