## A Chain of Misfortune
Being blacklisted by the industry hurts more than a breakup. A breakup is just one person's heart shattering; my entire career was now shattered to dust. Clutching my last bit of hope, I walked into that small design company downtown that was supposedly still hiring. I had received the interview notification the night before. I was so excited I almost knocked over my instant noodle bowl, thinking that heaven had finally opened its eyes and left me a path to survival.
Looking at it now, it seemed heaven just wanted to pull me out of one pit, only to kick me into a deeper well.
The one who received me was a man with gold-rimmed glasses, his hair slicked back so shiny it could trip a fly. His name was Li He, the Design Director of this company. He took my resume without even bothering to lift his eyelids, his fingers tapping impatiently on the desktop, the rhythm as if to say: Next, get lost.
"Lin Fan, right?" he finally spoke, his voice as flamboyant and piercing as his tie. "I've seen your file. It's quite... brilliant."
My heart skipped a beat. The word "brilliant," coming from his mouth, sounded like a synonym for "serves you right."
"Director Li, about what happened at my previous company, it was actually..." I tried to explain.
He waved a hand, cutting me off, a condescending smile on his face. "Young man, this is a company, not a courtroom. I'm not interested in your personal grudges. I only care if you can create value for us." He pushed his glasses up, the lenses reflecting a cold light, as if scanning my resume for non-existent strengths. "But, for someone announced as persona non grata by the entire industry, how much value do you think you have left?"
His words were like a slap across the face, stinging hot. I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. I took a deep breath, telling myself to stay calm. For Su Qing, for our dream of a big balcony, I had to endure it.
"I'm very confident. My abilities..."
"Abilities?" Li He sneered, pulling a piece of paper from a drawer and sliding it in front of me. "This is the design sketch for the 'Cloud-Top Heavenly Palace' project. I heard you were a core member. Since you're so confident, analyze it for me on the spot. What are the highlights of this plan, and where is the room for optimization?"
I felt like I'd fallen into an ice cellar.
This sketch was the most primitive version of the "Cloud-Top Heavenly Palace," the very "evidence" Wang Hao used to frame me! How could I possibly analyze it? I hadn't even laid a finger on the real core plan. This wasn't an interview; it was a meticulously designed humiliation. He knew my background all along and had called me here just to watch me make a fool of myself.
My mind went blank. Cold sweat trickled down my temple. I opened my mouth, but not a single word came out.
The smile on Li He's face grew wider, tinged with the thrill of a cat toying with a mouse. "What? Can't answer? It seems your abilities are only good for petty tricks behind people's backs." He crumpled the sketch into a ball and threw it accurately into the trash can by his feet. "Alright, that's all for today's interview. We don't welcome employees with 'risks.' You can leave now."
Like a puppet with its strings cut, I stood up stiffly and turned to walk out of the suffocating office. From behind me came Li He's light-as-a-feather words, like a needle dipped in poison: "Oh, by the way, there's a convenience store not far from the entrance on the left that's hiring a stock clerk. Perhaps that's more suitable for you."
I practically fled the office building. The afternoon sun stung my eyes, the bustling street was incredibly noisy, but my world was utterly silent. Wang Hao. It was always Wang Hao. He didn't just want me dead; he wanted me to die a humiliating death, cutting off all my escape routes, making me crawl like a dog on the street.
I wandered aimlessly, my mind a complete mess. Su Qing was waiting for my good news. How could I tell her? That I not only failed to find a job but was also made a monkey of? I pulled out my phone, wanting to text her, but my hands were shaking too badly.
Just then, the crowd surged, and someone slammed into my shoulder.
"Ouch, sorry about that, bro!" the person said hastily before disappearing into the flow of people.
I was staggered by the bump but didn't think much of it, assuming it was a common collision in the city. But when I subconsciously reached for my back pocket, my heart suddenly stopped.
It was empty.
My wallet was gone!
The person who bumped into me was a Thief!
"Stop! Don't run!" Like a madman, I shoved through the crowd, chasing after the blurry retreating figure. That was all I had left—my last few hundred dollars for rent, and a photo of me and Su Qing!
But how could I possibly catch up to a professional Thief? He was like a slippery loach, disappearing without a trace after a few turns. I stopped at an intersection, leaning on my knees and gasping for air. Sweat mixed with despair, welling up in my eyes.
It was over. Everything was over.
I dragged myself back, my mind a blank. I felt like a clown abandoned by the whole world, as if all my misfortunes had made an appointment to throw a party for me today.
Perhaps heaven felt today's torture wasn't entertaining enough. As I passed a construction site, I tripped over something. I lost my balance and fell heavily, face down, in an extremely pathetic posture.
*Thud.* That was the sound of my chin hitting the concrete.
My palms were scraped raw by the rough ground, stinging hot. My knees were scraped, and blood instantly seeped through. My phone flew out of my pocket and slid far away. Passersby cast all sorts of glances my way—some sympathetic, some curious, but mostly the snickers of onlookers.
I lay on the ground, motionless, too lazy to even get up. Just let this damned world crush me. Could my life get any unluckier, any more ridiculous? I closed my eyes, a monstrous wave of resentment and unwillingness surging in my heart.
Fuck Wang Hao, fuck the interview, fuck the Thief, fuck the whole world!
Lying on the cold, dirty ground, I used all my strength to let out a silent roar in my heart.
I, Lin Fan, if I can be any unluckier today, I'll write my name backward!
## A Drinking Buddy's Comfort
Dragging a leg that felt like it no longer belonged to me, I limped up the creaking stairs and mustered my last bit of strength to twist open the door to the Rented Apartment. The room was pitch-black, with only the faint orange glow of a distant streetlamp outside the window, like a tired ribbon of light draped weakly across the floor. I didn't turn on the lights, just threw myself onto the worn-out sofa, kicking up a cloud of dust. My knees and elbows stung, every inch of my skin protesting the day's injustices. My wallet was gone, my job was gone, my dignity had been trampled on and ground to dust. I closed my eyes, and images flashed through my mind like a movie: Li He's contemptuous face, the Thief's retreating back, the pointing and laughing of the crowd. Despair, like a tide, crashed against my heart in waves, nearly suffocating me.
Just as I was about to be swallowed by the darkness, a "thump, thump, thump" came from the door, urgent and loud, like a summons from the grim reaper. I frowned. Who was it? The landlord coming for the rent? Or Su Qing getting off work early? I struggled to get up and peered through the peephole. A familiar, chubby face instantly filled the entire view. It was Fatty Zhao, my upper-bunk buddy from college, my best drinking partner.
I pulled open the door, and a strong smell of barbecue mixed with the aroma of beer hit me. Fatty Zhao held a plastic bag in his left hand, containing a few bottles of iced beer and some grilled kidneys, and in his right hand, he held up his phone, the flashlight beam nearly blinding me. "Damn, Lin Fan, did you get in a fight or get jumped by a gang of teddy bears? What happened to you? You look like you just pulled out of the Syrian battlefield!" he yelled, squeezing his way in and expertly placing the items on the low table that served as a coffee stand.
I didn't have the energy to banter with him. I waved weakly and collapsed back onto the sofa. "Don't ask. I've been unlucky to the core today."
Fatty Zhao popped open a beer with a *pscht* and handed it to me, then opened one for himself and sat down on the small stool opposite me. The stool let out a pained groan. "Here, have a drink first. Any big problem can be solved in a beer bottle. If that doesn't work, have another."
I took the beer. The cool liquid slid down my throat, slightly dampening the fire in my heart. Then, I told him everything that had happened that day, from being humiliated in the interview to getting my wallet stolen, to taking a spectacular fall in public, adding my own colorful commentary. When I got to the part about Li He using my old sketch as trash, I was so angry I almost crushed the bottle in my hand. "That bastard said I have no creativity. His aesthetic sense is probably so bad he can't even figure out how to use Meitu! And Wang Hao, that Rich Second Generation hiding in the shadows, one day I'll make him..."
"Fuck Li He! And that bastard Wang Hao!" Fatty Zhao was even more agitated than I was, slapping his thigh so hard the flesh rippled. "Those two together are a real pair of... no, a pair of dogs! Don't you worry, Lin Fan. We'll get our revenge eventually. A gentleman gets his revenge, it's never too late. Let's drink first. We need to be full to have the strength to figure out how to get revenge!"
Hearing him say that, the suffocating anger in my chest finally found an outlet. We went bottle for bottle, and soon we'd emptied half a case. The alcohol went to our heads, and we really opened up. I cursed Wang Hao's treachery; he cursed his own boss for being stingy. I lamented my bleak future; he worried about his wife being too strict. We were like two beaten-up losers in a boxing ring, supporting each other, denouncing life as the heartless referee.
Later, Fatty Zhao suddenly sighed, the smile on his chubby face collapsing, his eyes filled with the same look of utter despair as mine. "Brother, you think you've got it bad? Let me tell you, my own mess is so pathetic I'm embarrassed to even say it."
I let out a drunken burp, looking at him blearily. "What could you have going on? Isn't it just your wife not letting you play video games?"
"It's way worse than that!" he took a huge swig of beer, his voice choking up. "My dear uncle, my own uncle who's an investor, last month he insisted I invest in some 'shared folding stools,' saying it was the next big thing, the ultimate expression of the lazy economy! The next big thing? I see it as a pig on the trend, the one that falls the hardest! All my private savings, the money I was saving for my future nephew's milk powder, all gone! Now when I go home, my wife looks at me like I'm a Thief, calling me a spendthrift. Tell me, is that fair? Who was I doing it for? For this family!"
Looking at his chubby face, etched with grievance and despair, the huge rock that had been blocking my heart seemed to loosen, just a little. It turned out I wasn't the only one floundering in the quagmire of life; there was a fatter swimming partner right next to me. That feeling of being abandoned by the whole world was, at that moment, somewhat diluted by Fatty Zhao's misfortunes. I even felt like laughing, not at him, but a bitter, shared-misery kind of laugh.
However, this bit of comfort didn't last long. Alcohol is an emotional amplifier. It infected me with Fatty Zhao's sadness and magnified my own despair a thousand times. His failure made me see even more clearly the powerlessness of ordinary people like us. We tried our best, but we couldn't even catch a small pebble that life threw at us.
I suddenly took another huge swig of beer. The cool liquid could no longer suppress the sourness in my heart. I thought of Su Qing, of her bright, sparkling eyes every time she looked at me, of the promise I had made to her. "I promise, it won't be long before we move into a house with a big balcony." That promise now sounded like a colossal joke.
"Fatty..." my voice began to tremble, my eyes burning hot. "Do you think... people like us are just born to be stepped on? I promised Su Qing I'd buy her a house with a big balcony, where she could grow flowers and sunbathe. And now? I can barely afford next month's rent. What the hell am I? A good-for-nothing who can't even protect his own woman!"
Fatty Zhao was startled by my sudden breakdown. The grilled kidney in his hand fell to the floor. He clumsily shuffled over, wanting to pat my shoulder but not knowing where to start. In the end, he could only pick up the beer bottle and fill mine again. "Don't... don't say that, brother. It's not a big deal. At worst... at worst I'll steal my wife's hidden stash and give it to you! We'll make a comeback together!"
Looking at his sincere, goofy chubby face, the tears finally fell. I raised my bottle to the ceiling and, with all my might, roared, as if to vent all my grievances and unwillingness. But this time, my voice wasn't the angry roar from the day, but a drunken, whimpering murmur.
"I, Lin Fan, if I can be any unluckier today, I'll write my name backward..."
## Roaring at the Heavens While Drunk
Fatty Zhao's old electric scooter sputtered away into the night, like a drunken beetle. I stood alone under a streetlamp, my shadow stretched long and then twisted by the wind. The alcohol had fully kicked in. The world was spinning, the road under my feet like a writhing snake. I had to watch every step carefully, afraid of tripping.
The night breeze on my face was cool, but it couldn't clear the fog in my head. Wang Hao's smug face, the cold eyes of my company leaders, every glaring word on that industry notice, they all swirled before my eyes like a revolving lantern. What weighed on me most was Su Qing. I had promised her a stable home, a good life. And now? I didn't even know where next month's rent was coming from.
I leaned against the wall, moving forward one step at a time. I had walked this road home for two years but had never felt it so long, so difficult. The street food stalls on the roadside were long closed, leaving only a mess of debris, looking particularly desolate under the dim yellow streetlamps. Just like my life, a complete mess.
My pockets were empty. My wallet was gone, along with the photo of me and Su Qing. The thought of it made my heart clench as if squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain so sharp I couldn't breathe. It wasn't about the money; it was a testament to all our beautiful memories. That son of a bitch Wang Hao, not only did he destroy my future, but he also wanted to take away my most precious thing.
I walked onto a pedestrian overpass and stopped. Below, a river of traffic flowed endlessly, the red taillights merging into a torrential river. Were the people in those cars rushing home, or just leaving a lively gathering? Did they have warm homes, loved ones waiting for them? And I, like a ghost abandoned by the world, had nowhere to even pour out my heart.
A huge wave of grievance and anger rushed to my head. Alcohol was the perfect accelerant. I gripped the cold railing and roared with all my might at the brilliant lights below, at this fucked-up world.
"Ah—!"
My hoarse voice echoed in the night sky, so insignificant it was quickly swallowed by the city's noise. But I wasn't satisfied. I still had so much to say. I pointed at the moon in the sky. It was full and bright tonight, like a silver plate gloating over my misfortune.
"What are you looking at! Never seen an unlucky bastard before!" I yelled at the moon.
After yelling at the moon, I still felt unsatisfied. My gaze swept over the speeding luxury cars. Each one seemed to be mocking my poverty and failure. Especially that black Porsche with its shiny paint that whizzed past me, kicking up a gust of wind that seemed to carry the stench of money.
Wang Hao drove a car like that.
The anger shot straight to the top of my head.
"I, Lin Fan, am destined to be poor my whole life!" I spread my arms, as if to embrace the entire night, my voice trembling with emotion. "I'll never get rich! Never! If you've got the guts, have heaven strike me down!"
After roaring those words, I felt like all my strength had been drained. I slumped against the railing, panting heavily. My chest heaved violently, my heart hammering against my ribs. The world was quiet for a few seconds, then returned to normal. The cars still flowed, the wind still blew, the moon still hung high in the sky, looking down at me coldly.
Nothing happened.
No thunder from the heavens, no earth-shaking tremors, not even an echo in response.
I laughed at myself, thinking I must be really drunk, really crazy. What was the point of raging at the air? It was just the futile rage of a coward. I shook my head and dragged my leaden legs, continuing toward home. That guttural scream was like a stone thrown into the ocean. Besides making my own throat hurt, it didn't even make a decent splash.
I had no idea that at the very instant I roared those words, in a securities company's server room on the other side of the city, a tiny, inexplicable error suddenly appeared in a code that had just completed an automated buy program. That error caused a massive sum of money, originally intended for a tech stock about to skyrocket, to be diverted in the last second, by a freak coincidence, to a junk company on the brink of bankruptcy.
And I, knowing none of this, just felt my head getting heavier and my eyelids drooping. I just wanted to get back to that small Rented Apartment, fall onto the bed, and sleep into oblivion. Tomorrow? I'd worry about it tomorrow. After all, could it be any unluckier than today?
## A Windfall from Heaven
The hangover headache felt like a drill in my temple, every heartbeat a dull thud. I opened my eyes, the glaring sunlight making me snap them shut again. Beneath me was hard, cold ground, my back sore. Where was I? I struggled to sit up and looked around. I was lying on a park bench, covered by a newspaper that smelled sour.
Last night's memories were like shards of broken glass, piercing me. The roar on the overpass, Wang Hao's smug face, Su Qing's worried eyes... it was all a mess. I patted my pocket. My phone was still there. My wallet... oh, right, my wallet was long gone, along with the photo of me and Su Qing. I laughed at myself. It never rains but it pours. When you're down on your luck, even drinking water makes you choke.
I stood up unsteadily, the whole world spinning. My stomach growled with hunger, my throat dry as if it were smoking. I needed to go home, take a hot shower, and then... and then what? Then face the reality of being blacklisted, then shamefully tell Su Qing I was sorry, I couldn't even afford her a proper meal. I, Lin Fan, the walking ambassador of bad luck, was destined to be poor my whole life.
At that thought, last night's drunken words surfaced inappropriately: "I'll never get rich! Never!"
I couldn't help but laugh, laughing so hard I almost cried. Yes, how right I was. My personal mantra for the year. I kicked a pebble at my feet, shuffling dejectedly toward home. Every step felt like I was walking on cotton, light and powerless. Passing a trash can, I irritably gave it a kick, only to feel a sharp pain in my toes.
"Damn it!" I hopped on one foot, clutching it, wincing in pain. I knew it, I just knew it! The word "smooth" just doesn't exist in my dictionary.
Just as I was standing on one foot, cursing, my toes seemed to have kicked something else. Not the metallic feel of the trash can, but... something soft yet hard. I looked down. A black leather wallet lay quietly in the grass next to the trash can, half-covered by fallen leaves, almost invisible if you weren't looking carefully.
Another poor soul lost their wallet? A sense of shared misery rose in me. Normally, I would have picked it up, looked for the owner's contact info, and done a good deed. But today, I just wasn't in the mood. I just wanted to go home and disappear from the world.
But my legs had a mind of their own. As if possessed, I bent down and picked up the wallet. It was heavy in my hand, well-made, feeling like top-grain cowhide. I weighed it in my palm, and my heart skipped a beat. So heavy. Was there a brick inside?
As if possessed, I pulled open the zipper. A mix of the smell of ink and leather hit me. I peeked inside and froze.
Stack after stack of red hundred-yuan bills were neatly packed inside, bulging the wallet. I subconsciously swallowed, my heart starting to pound uncontrollably. With trembling hands, I took out the money. One stack, two stacks, three stacks... I counted three times before I could believe my eyes.
A full two hundred thousand.
My hands began to shake, not from the cold, but from fear and an indescribable excitement. Two hundred thousand, what did that mean? It was more than I could save in two years if I didn't eat or drink. With this money, I could pay the rent, buy Su Qing the necklace she'd been talking about for so long, and I wouldn't have to worry about making ends meet for a while.
One thought screamed in my mind: Go! No one's watching! This is heaven taking pity on you, giving you a chance!
But another voice scolded me harshly: Lin Fan, are you crazy? This is someone else's money! They lost so much money; they must be frantic! You're not this kind of person!
My mind was a mess. Holding the stack of cash felt like holding a red-hot branding iron. I looked around. The street was sparsely populated in the early morning; no one was paying attention to me. All I had to do was stuff the money in my pocket, turn around, and leave, and it would all be mine.
My palms were sweaty. Reason and desire were at war. I forced myself to calm down and opened another compartment in the wallet, looking for the owner's ID. If I found it, I would return it. Yes, return it, be a good person.
But besides the money, the wallet only contained a few bank cards and a blank business card. No identification.
I was completely stumped. No information about the owner. This money... it was as if it had appeared out of thin air, just for me.
I stood there, holding the money, dazed. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling my face. In my mind, last night's desperate roar echoed again, crystal clear.
"I, Lin Fan, am destined to be poor my whole life! I'll never get rich! Never!"
I looked at the thick wad of cash in my hand, enough to change my current situation. An absurd, utterly ridiculous idea, like a bolt of lightning, suddenly struck my mind.
Last night, I had yelled, "I'll never get rich."
And this morning, I found two hundred thousand.
Could it be... that my drunken ramblings last night actually came true? And in reverse?