"Dong dong!" The knocking sound echoed.
"Hello, your package is here, please sign for it."
"Thank you!"
Meng Lang took the cardboard box, but his expression was somewhat puzzled.
Did I recently go on a shopping spree? That shouldn't be the case, especially since my current finances don't allow it.
Could it be another batch of "local specialties" sent from my hometown by my mom?
"Rip!" Meng Lang used a key to slice open the tape and was instantly taken aback by what he saw inside.
What is this? A book?
Right there in the box lay a thin, unremarkable-looking book with a black and white cover.
Curious, Meng Lang flipped it over and then, in the next moment, he was frozen in place.
Because on the cover of that book was boldly written, "Meng Lang's Miserable Life"...
Meng Lang looked again closely at the title.
Meng from Mengzi, Lang like the wave, no mistake, it was his name!
The veins on his forehead throbbed.
Which morally bankrupt character is playing this joke on me?
And "a miserable life"? Your grandpa's miserable!
Could it be that guy Ah Xian?
Unlikely, there are many things I've never even mentioned to him.
If not him, could it be that I offended someone inadvertently?
Meng Lang struggled to suppress the urge to throw the book to the ground and started to flip through the pages.
What caught his eye was a photo of the author.
Clad in a hospital gown, his pale, weak face showed not a hint of a smile.
And the key thing was, by appearance... it looked like an aged version of himself?
The corners of Meng Lang's mouth twitched.
Great, photo editing is impressive, huh? This special effect must've cost more than fifty cents, right?
Holding back the impulse to tear the photo to shreds, Meng Lang continued reading with the patience and cultivation he had amassed over 24 years.
[Once, my dream was to become a police officer, and later, that dream was half-realized—I became an uncle.
Eventually, my dream became to earn an annual salary of a million, marry a beautiful mentor, and reach the peak of life, but then I had just started earning 50,000 a year when the beautiful mentor married someone else, and the groom wasn't me.
That's when I understood that one should be down-to-earth and set a modest goal first, to join a Fortune Global 500 company!
...
I succeeded! I joined Huaxia Life and became an insurance salesman!
...
Ultimately, I finally realized that one should never be down-to-earth, just like Teacher Tony said—we must make money work for us, or else we'll become slaves to money.
I borrowed from all my relatives, maxed out my credit cards, and even leveraged up to become a shareholder of Huaxia Oil. Then I crashed head-on into the 2018 stock market crash and overnight turned into a deadbeat.
...
After emptying three wallets, my elderly parents pulled me out of the abyss by going back to work as if they had aged several years instantly.
...
Having been battered by life's harsh lessons, I finally woke up. I shook off the baggage of dreams and decided to settle down in one city, waiting for one person to live out an ordinary life with a loving wife and warm bed.
This person came as expected, like an angel, illuminating the low points of my life.
Love came abruptly, like a storm, when we couldn't go home due to heavy rain the day after we met, and coincidentally, there was only one room left in the hotel...
I was certain that was love, and soon I was holding her hand, smiling as we walked into the Civil Affairs Bureau.
The wind that day was so gentle, filled with the scent of happiness.
Even many years later, I still vividly remember the staff member who married us, reminding me to tie my shoelaces with a smile full of blessings.
...
At the end of that year, our child was born prematurely, a chubby boy weighing 7.7 pounds, with type B blood.
The fireworks filling the sky outside were as if the whole world was celebrating for me...
Even the pandemic that broke out the following year couldn't dilute even a hint of my joy.
...
18 years later, a random car accident revealed that the hospital had been transfusing her with type A blood...
I thought that by sincerely loving someone, I could move them, but it turns out I only moved myself.
That day I drank a lot of alcohol, and after vomiting blood and being hospitalized, the doctors diagnosed me with late-stage stomach cancer.
Unable to bear the continuous blows, my parents ultimately passed away before me.
In utter despair, I removed my own oxygen mask.
As I lay dying, I dedicate this book to commemorate my life, which can only be described as tragic...]
Holding the book, Meng Lang remained silent for a long while, and then his expression gradually contorted.
He hurled the book to the ground with force.
Feeling that wasn't enough to relieve his anger, he gritted his teeth and stomped on it several more times.
"Don't let me find out who it is, or I'll definitely shoot a '72h human tragedy.avi' for you!"
Meng Lang sat on the sofa, his liver aching with anger, and chugged several gulps of cool tap water to quench the fire in his heart.
After calming down a bit, Meng Lang began to ponder whom he could have offended so deeply that they went to such lengths to hire a ghostwriter to curse him.
Not to mention, this ghostwriter's level of writing couldn't be achieved without "full score essays," it almost brought me to tears!
To spend so much just to disgust me?
For what grudge or grievance? Did I eat your family's rice, or did I disturb your ancestral grave?
Is it a vengeance for killing your father or stealing your wife... wait a second! Surely, my chastity means I couldn't have possibly transgressed on that account, right?
Could it be that seller last month who couldn't handle a negative review?
But they wouldn't have a reason to know my blood type, right?
Revenge from an ex-girlfriend? Oh! I don't have one, well, that settles it.
```
He thought for a long time, going through all the people he had offended recently, but Meng Lang couldn't find a suspect.
The more he pondered, the more he felt that something was off about this whole affair.
Having calmed down, he frowned, suppressed his anger, picked up the dusty book, and gave it a serious read once again.
Then he got a piece of paper and a pen.
"Dreamed of being a policeman as a child," "Had a crush on a beautiful tutor," "Just joined a Fortune 500 company," "Type A blood."
Looking at the four circled entries, Meng Lang's eyes showed shock.
"It's all correct!"
And the time span covered his childhood, university, and professional life...
Who could possibly know him so well?
Unless... this person had been paying close attention to me since kindergarten?
Could it be the legendary "kindergarten wife"?
Is it because I forgot the "oath of love" from back then, turning love into hate?
Meng Lang racked his brain, but couldn't remember if he had made a "I'll marry you when we grow up" promise in kindergarten.
Even if he had, his secret crush on the beautiful tutor was absolutely top-secret; he was even too embarrassed to mention it to his best friend Ah Xian, but this person had hit the nail on the head.
This couldn't be explained by a "kindergarten wife."
After thinking, Meng Lang picked up his phone.
"Hello, Dad."
"Son, what's up? Splash splash~" The sound of mahjong tiles clashing came from the other side.
"What was my dream as a kid?"
There was a pause, then his father's uncertain voice came through, "Astronaut?"
"What's my blood type?" Meng Lang asked again.
"...O?" His father's voice grew weaker.
"Click!" Meng Lang hung up the phone.
He could rule out this suspect.
He sunk into the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Who is this person...?
...
The next day, with bags under his eyes, Meng Lang arrived at the company to clock in and have his face recognized.
Then, without even entering a door, he strolled to the snack shop outside the company that he often visited.
"Boss, a bowl of wontons, and a basket of steamed buns, please."
"Alrighty!"
Soon, the steaming hot food was in front of him, and Meng Lang distractedly poured the condiments.
The moment the food touched his mouth, Meng Lang's expression stiffened.
The vinegar was too much...
"Sigh," he exhaled.
He finally understood the expression "a fishbone stuck in one's throat, uneasy in sleep and food."
He had pondered all night long without figuring anything out.
It was as if there were a pair of eyes watching you from behind at all times, knowing you like the back of their hand, filled with malice. It was quite unnerving.
"Brother, you don't look well. Are you facing some difficulties?"
Just then, a voice came from nearby, and Meng Lang looked up only to realize that there was another customer sitting next to him.
The man, in his thirties, sported a small mustache, was dressed in a suit and shiny shoes, wore a Longines watch, and carried a briefcase. His scholarly appearance complete with gold-rimmed glasses and a warm smile made him seem quite approachable.
With breakfast in front of him, he seemed to be a fellow office worker from the vicinity.
As the saying goes, don't slap a smiling face, Meng Lang politely returned the smile, "Nothing, just had a bad night's sleep."
"Oh... Given your age, you must have just started working, right?
What troubles someone your age is either a woman or work."
"Hmm." Meng Lang hummed absentmindedly, showing no interest in continuing the conversation.
But to an "old salesman," that expression was a sure sign of a "lost lamb."
"I'm an old hand at this. At your age, I was also constantly stressed about a small salary, and in the end, my girlfriend broke up with me.
Working 996 for a few thousand yuan in wages, after paying rent and utilities, what's left over?
In the end, it's all about money, a single penny can defeat even a hero."
The suit-clad man spoke with a sigh, appearing to empathize deeply with Meng Lang.
This pitch had proven effective countless times, and surely enough, Meng Lang finally looked up and gave him his full attention, seemingly hit by his words.
"In almost half a lifetime of experience, I've learned one thing: it's too hard to get ahead on that little salary!
So you need to make your money work for you, so you don't become a slave to your finances." The suit-clad man patted Meng Lang's shoulder, wiped his mouth, and stood as if preparing to leave.
"Wait!"
The voice from behind made the suit-clad man's lips curl into a smile, but when he turned around, he put on that same harmless expression again.
"What is it, young man?"
"Repeat what you just said."
"Which part? Oh! I said you need to make your money work for you, so you don't become a slave to it. That's something Balat, the richest man in the world, said, and it's advice that can serve you for a lifetime."
After speaking, the suit-clad man noticed the other's expression seemed a bit unusual, quite odd actually.
Meng Lang put down his chopsticks and looked at the man with a very serious expression.
"May I ask how you are addressed, big brother?"
Here it comes, business is coming!
The suit-clad man showed a bright smile. "My surname is Niu."
Meng Lang breathed a sigh of relief. Was he just overthinking it?
"But everyone likes to call me Teacher Tony."
Meng Lang: "..."
```