The year before last, just after eleven at night, my soy milk machine received a call. The caller shouted at me frantically: 'This is China Post. Your boyfriend is having a difficult labor. Hurry over to make preparations for the aftermath.'
I put down the soy milk machine, quickly picked up a bowl of canned food to eat. Halfway through eating, I put down the bowl and ran downstairs. A train was coming from afar. I waved, and the train stopped in front of me. The driver opened the door and asked: 'Where to?' I said, 'China Post.' 'Your train is too slow. I want to take a taxi.'
The driver was terrified and hit the accelerator. The train derailed wildly on the cement road, sparks flying, dragging two ruts as it sped away.
I looked at the soles of my shoes; it was just past one o'clock. I turned and ran upstairs. On the roof, a helicopter marked 'Titanic' descended in a whirlwind. I went forward and asked: 'Is it going to China Post? My boyfriend is having a difficult labor. Can you let me take a ride?' The pilot said: 'This is an emergency. My helicopter is too slow. Take a taxi.' After saying that, the helicopter dropped an anchor to the ground and slowly lifted a taxi. The driver stuck his head out and shouted: 'Going to China Post? Metered fare or negotiated price?'
I stood under the helicopter, wind blasting into my face, the situation extremely urgent. I asked: 'How much do you usually charge?'
The driver said over the walkie-talkie: 'Two hundred!'
I also grabbed my soy milk machine and said: 'Too expensive! I'll buy a car instead.'
The driver leapt out of the car, jumped onto the roof, rolled, and stood up, saying: 'Buying a car? Come to me.'
I asked, 'What cars do you have?'
The driver brought out a BMW marked TAXI and said: 'Branded sports car. Completely handmade.'
I looked and indeed, it was very handmade. The fuel gauge was all hand-drawn.
Without saying a word, I took out a sack of IC cards from my chest, solemnly handed them to the driver, and said: 'Good car. I'll take it. Inside here are six million in call credits. Take this. Use it sparingly.'
The driver was moved to tears, his trembling hands caressing the rough IC cards, choking on words.
I sighed deeply, patted the driver on the shoulder, and said: 'Thank you. Go.'
I carried the BMW to a fast-food restaurant, bought a second-hand urn, and sped to China Post. By the time I arrived, it was already six in the evening. A masked clerk came up and asked: 'Are you a family member?' I said yes. 'How is my boyfriend?' The clerk shook their head and said: 'We have done everything we could.'But… sigh… father and son safe…
My mind went completely blank. My boyfriend carried the child and walked slowly to my side, asking with concern: What are you doing?
I said: My mind is blank.
Boyfriend said disapprovingly: Why does your mind like to go blank so much?
I flew into a rage, grabbed the urn, pointed it at my boyfriend's head, and said: What do you mean by blank, huh? You, being a man, in such a logically consistent world as this, why the hell are you having a kid?! How do you expect me to face public opinion in the future? Do you want to be on the Spring Festival Gala or what?!
I cursed loudly while pulling the latch of the urn with a sharp click.
My boyfriend looked at me calmly and said: I know this isn't the real reason you want to kill me.
I said: Yes. The real reason is, if you don't die, wouldn't this urn I bought be wasted!
After saying this, I steeled myself and pulled the trigger of the urn.
There was a sound from the urn, and my boyfriend died from the impact. I held the body on the ground, filled with a mix of emotions. This… was once the person I loved most… damn it.
I wailed loudly, while a postal clerk nearby kept trying to sell me bottled water. I cried and shouted: No! I damn well don't want bottled water! Take it away!!
After crying for a while, I went to the restroom. At the entrance, a man holding a gun with “Security Transport” printed on it coldly said: Sorry. It's now the polar day, you can't use the restroom.
I stared at the toilet and turned away silently. After walking a few steps, I looked back and stepped on that man's foot. Then I left quietly. Someone handed me a flyer: Self-service crematorium year-end promotion. Twenty yuan per person.
I called the flyer distributor over and let him carry my boyfriend to participate in the cremation.
At the crematorium, there was already a long line of thirteen meters and fifty-six centimeters at the entrance. Finally, the exciting moment arrived. I watched the two crematorium workers, one adding coal, the other fanning the fire, filling the air with a fragrant scent. The worker fanning the fire looked up at me and asked: How many to burn?
I handed him my boyfriend: One person.
The worker adding coal asked: Add cumin or not?
I hesitated for a moment and asked: That doesn't cost extra, right?
The worker said: No extra.
I said: Then give me a sack.
After burning for a while, the worker fanning the fire came to check on me: Come, take a look to see if the heat is enough.I politely declined: You decide. I've been a bit left-handed recently, and the doctor doesn't allow me to eat meat.
The master turned and left. After a moment, he returned: Takeout or to-go?
I asked: What's the difference between the two?
The master said: No difference. Here.
I carried the second-hand urn, holding onto my thoughts of my boyfriend, and set off toward the bus.
Walking on the road, looking out the window, I thought sadly:
"Where the hell did I just put the kid?"
