Chapter 219 Chapter 214 Ji Ma’s Mundane Life (Part 2)
The dinner took place in her biological father’s old and worn-out small house, though calling it small and worn-out felt like an exaggeration.
It was neither worn-out nor small.
With an area of over a hundred square meters, featuring two living rooms, two bathrooms, and four bedrooms, it may be an old house over twenty years old, but it was clean and tidy, allowing for shoes to be removed on the tiled floor.
As soon as Ji Ma arrived at her biological father’s house, she excitedly walked into her room. She remembered that during her elementary school years, she lived at her father’s house.
When the door opened, Ji Ma bent down to enter, careful not to bump her head on the upper part of the door frame.
The room was smaller than she remembered; a bed occupied nearly half the room’s area, with the head of the bed closely positioned to the desk. To the left of the desk stood a green bookshelf, and underneath it was a wardrobe, while the desk had a lamp.
Ji Ma recalled that the rental room from her first night in her hometown was even narrower.
Think positively, think positively…
Ji Ma sat on the bed, which now felt too small for her to lie down on, and looked around. Her hand brushed over the chipped paint on the desk, and she turned on the lamp, which emitted white light.
Suddenly, memories came flooding back of her days sitting at the desk, buried in study. It was so dull; the only thing she could play with was scratching the paint with her nails.
She sat on the wooden chair, her gaze falling to the left side of the desk.
To the left of the desk was a small space wedged between it and the bookshelf, barely large enough to fit a child. Ji Ma remembered playing hide-and-seek as a child, finding it difficult to crawl out from inside.
It felt quite cozy.
Ji Ma turned off the lamp, which remained her companion, still usable today. Her gaze fell on that small space as she struggled to recall the warm memories of her childhood.
Yet she thought of that rainy night when cold rainwater poured in through the stone opening, and she hid among the stones, sucking the blood flowing from her wound. Quietly waiting for her fate—either to die under the blade of her pursuer or to survive.
Ji Ma shifted her gaze to the old bookshelf, filled with yellowed books, many of which were about agricultural knowledge—her biological father’s books. In this small room, most of the bookshelf did not belong to her.
She stood up and rummaged through the bookshelf, finding a book titled “Unsolved Mysteries of the World.” As she flipped through its pages, she gradually recalled her childhood.
Boredom and frustration were the backdrops of her childhood.
She read that book over and over, often gazing out the window toward the sky, daydreaming about the various unsolved mysteries of the future.
Back then, she believed in everything it said.
The book claimed that pyramids could harness cosmic powers, preventing the corpses within from decaying.
She believed it wholeheartedly, using stiff cardboard to create a small pyramid based on the proportions described in the book, placing it on her forehead, hoping it would provide her with cosmic energy.
Ha, perhaps this is how the personal system came to be.
Ji Ma chuckled, recalling how she once found a dead bird on the road and tossed it inside the pyramid, hoping to see it turn into a mummy.
One day, the dead bird’s chest moved.
She thought it was the mysterious power collected by the pyramid that revived the bird, turning it into a mummy. But it was merely maggots wriggling inside the dead bird’s body.
Looking towards the window, the room’s window connected to the balcony.
This was troublesome, as she had become obsessed with pirated internet literature as a child, reading it while snuggled in bed.
Her father, who would often go to the balcony at night to hang clothes, could always find out.
After reminiscing about the past, Ji Ma felt a shallow warmth swelling within her heart.
She walked towards the door, seeing the wooden doorknob, and couldn’t help but recall being locked inside, with her father commanding her to study, forcing her to keep on studying, endlessly.
“Dinner’s ready, A Qi.”
“I’m coming.”
She stepped out of the room, and out of the corner of her eye, caught a glimpse of Master Luo’s room, which was twice the size of hers.
At the dinner table.
Her stepmother kept insisting on serving her dishes.
Ji Ma disliked chicken legs and had refused multiple times, yet her stepmother persistently used chopsticks to pick up a chicken leg and firmly placed it in her bowl.
Ji Ma lowered her head, staring at the boiled free-range chicken leg.
For three centuries, no one had ever served me dishes.
Ji Ma remained expressionless, thinking to herself.
“This cauliflower is delicious; you love cauliflower the most.”
Ji Ma replied with extraordinary calmness, “No, thank you.”
Her stepmother smiled, saying without hesitation, and added a handful of green vegetables into her bowl.
Ji Ma recalled carefully that indeed, no one had ever served her dishes.
Because those who hated me would only poison my food.
Those who loved me would not ignore my wishes, forcing food into my bowl.
Forget it, forget it, I need to adapt to a mundane life.
Ji Ma thought, at least during this tense time, playing the part of my former self was very safe.
She thought of biting into the fatty skin of the chicken leg.
It was well-cooked, but she didn’t want to eat it again next time.
Ji Ma picked a few more dishes, and her stepmother, with great enthusiasm, said:
“A Qi, let’s place this dish in front of you so you can reach it easily.”
“No, I’ve got it.”
Her stepmother didn’t listen to her and switched the dishes, placing them in front of her.
Ji Ma turned her head and looked at her own arm, which could tightly grip a “branch axe spear” to chop off an enemy’s head.
Yet now, just because the food was slightly out of her reach, it made her feel ashamed.
“Really, it’s fine, Auntie.” Ji Ma said, “My hands can move.”
Her stepmother wore a broad smile, “Just making it easier for you.”
Throughout dinner, Ji Ma only found that the white rice tasted good; food from other worlds couldn’t compare to such authentic rice.
At the dinner table.
Master Luo chatted merrily with his wife, a government employee, often being interrupted by his mother, who pointedly dictated what vegetables to eat more of and which meats to eat less.
“A Qi, have you heard? The blue pill,” Master Luo said, his face showing a nervous smile, unable to contain his amusement, “I saw a child get slapped hard on the face, crying in the hospital.”
Ji Ma asked, “Huh? Can you send it to me?”
“Sure, I’ll transfer it to you on WeChat.” Master Luo replied, “If only I could buy a bottle of the blue pill too, slap, slap, slap.”
The more he spoke, the more excited he became, flapping his hands in the air, patting his wife on the arm.
The government employee wife silently ate her meal, shooting him a glance, saying, “Nonsense.”
“Crazy.” His stepmother chimed in, “It must be a scam.”
“Not false,” Master Luo insisted, “They’ve caught the guy.”
Ji Ma’s biological father, Xu Ziqiang, shook his head, “It can’t be real; if it were, the entire scientific community would be overturned.”
“Right.” Master Luo said, “The police have reported that they caught a man who illegally profited over three hundred thousand. I heard he’s someone who sits at home writing those kinds of perverted novels.”
Ji Ma paused in chewing her white rice and asked, “What kind of perverted novel?”
“Transforming and marrying,” Master Luo explained, “It’s about turning into a woman and marrying a man, plus being part of his harem.”
Ji Ma’s biological father Xu Ziqiang expressed disbelief, shaking his head, “More importantly, people nowadays really are beyond comprehension. If this continues, society is going to go haywire.”
The government employee wife said, “You know so much, have you seen it?”
“Where would I?” Master Luo turned to his wife, nudging her playfully, “What if I turned into a hot beauty, what would you do?”
“Do it and then we’ll talk.”
Master Luo joked, “Then I won’t want you anymore.”
The government employee wife shot him another glance, clearly uninterested. But Master Luo, like an energetic pup, continued engaging his silent wife.
The government employee wife laughed, “Oh, if you don’t want me then forget it. When you get married, just let me know, I’ll give you a red envelope.”
Ji Ma had no interest in watching the couple’s playful banter.
She didn’t expect that the Chinese state machinery would so quickly publicize the news about the “Production Team’s Donkey.”
Whether from the experience borrowed from Hollywood films or considered from reality.
China would not make such a swift public announcement.
Didn’t they realize the tremendous impact this could have on society?
Even when thinking further, from a personal perspective, if she were the person in charge.
In the face of such an extraordinary incident, one would definitely suppress it for as long as possible.
It’s simple—who knows what kind of effect this will cause? There are no precedents to refer to, and if the impact is negative, one’s political future could be ruined.
Ji Ma has examined modern power structures and found that so-called ruling classes are also lamentably mundane beings who must consider public opinion.
Yet the incident stirred quite a few ripples within Ji Ma.
Even Master Luo knew detailed information about the “Production Team’s Donkey,” and the information was published to such an extent.
There was only one explanation.
Because they had the confidence to handle everything.
Hometown probably wasn’t as peaceful as it appeared on the surface.
After Ji Ma finished three bowls of rice, she set down her bowl and said, “I’m full, enjoy your meal.”
“You ate so little?” Her stepmother raised her head, saying, “Eat some more, you’ve just had one bowl.”
Out of politeness, Ji Ma didn’t roll her eyes and only said, “Oh.”
After putting away her bowl, Ji Ma walked to the balcony.
The building was six stories tall, offering a nice view. Ji Ma placed her hands on the balcony rail, looking out at the distant sky, which was overcast with thick clouds, with drizzle pouring down, and the hot, humid air from the summer heat enveloping her.
Ji Ma gazed at the heavy clouds, feeling quite oppressive, as if her wings could hardly unfurl.
An invisible pressure weighed on her, and it felt like she could fly in the sky, soaring freely, and afterward do as she pleased, living a life of indulgence on pain.
But the clouds were too thick.
What lay beyond those dark clouds?
“Boom!”
Lightning struck down, followed by a torrential downpour hammering the earth.
Inside the house, her biological father shouted, “Quick, gather the clothes!”
Ji Ma hurriedly collected the clothes, retreating back into the mundane house under the onslaught of the rain, closing the door behind her, shutting out the rain and thunder.
Keeping a low profile as a magician, keeping a low profile as a magician…
She thought, setting the clothes down.
After finishing his meal, Ji Ma’s biological father Xu Ziqiang took out an album and reminisced with Ji Ma about the photos he had taken of her when she was little.
Looking at the pictures, she saw a skinny, ugly little boy, resembling a goblin, listening to her biological father Xu Ziqiang lamenting the hardships of raising her.
Ji Ma had to admit that she used to be quite ugly.
She took a deep breath, suppressing herself once more, and made an effort to listen to her biological father Xu Ziqiang, striving to live a mundane life.
The warmth that had previously filled her heart was already gone.
Her biological father Xu Ziqiang had a warm expression.
But Ji Ma only felt as if she had returned to her childhood, hiding in her room, in the small space between the desk, bookshelf, and wall corner, her knees pressed against the desk, her back against the wall, her elbows touching the desk, feeling timid and constrained, making her uncomfortable.
When would she be able to soar?
————
ps: Master Luo is indeed a nickname for a real person.
