The Decaying Dream of America: I Assemble Corpses and Confront Madness

The afternoon sun lazily shone on the central lawn of Emerald Dream University.

Students strolled in twos and threes along the brick path, or sat on benches reading books, the air filled with the mixed scents of grass, coffee, and books.

The tranquility was shattered by three abrupt figures.

They walked from the direction of the library, their pace slow but carrying the air of a theatrical actor's entrance, immediately drawing everyone's attention.

They wore large, heavily modified Arab robes.

The robe was covered with various symbols. The left arm had a green "VEGAN POWER" badge, and the right arm had a similarly green "ANIMALS HAVE RIGHTS" badge.

On her chest, a pin depicting a woman's fist, a pin symbolizing Judaism, and an armband symbolizing environmental protection, "SAVE OUR PLANET," are crammed together, forming a chaotic yet "correct" collage.

Their faces were covered with thick paint, red, yellow and blue colors intertwined, like the totems of some primitive tribe, completely obscuring their true faces.

The person in the middle is holding up a rainbow flag that reads "we are together".

The tall, blond young man to his left had blond hair that was almost blinding in the sunlight.

He held up a rainbow flag with the words "Stop hatred against minorities" scrawled in black marker.

His face was also painted with oil paint, wild black lines.

The burly young man on the right walks with a steady gait, his muscles taut over his T-shirt.

He also held up a rainbow flag that read "love wins".

The three of them, like a moving collective of protest symbols, silently crossed the lawn.

The surrounding students stopped in their tracks, and a chorus of whispers arose.

Cell phones were raised one after another, and the cameras were pointed at the three strange "performers".

No one came up to stop them, and no one dared to speak out loudly.

Because they carry too many, too varied, and too "sacred" symbols.

You can't criticize someone who's waving a rainbow flag, wearing an environmental and animal rights armband, has "ethnic totems" painted on their face, and is dressed in the robes of a special group, because no matter which angle you attack them from, you're likely to be labeled as "discriminatory."

This is their armor, an invisible shield forged from ideas and slogans.

It's like a mop covered in poop is like Lu Bu reincarnated; whoever touches it will get covered in poop, and nobody dares to mess with it.

Their target came into view.

Yuji Yamaguchi and his friend were walking out of a school building, both of them with cigarettes in their mouths, chatting and laughing.

They didn't realize they were about to be covered in shit.

Their smiles froze when they saw the three strange figures.

Lin Zheng, Sam, and Smith all grinned broadly.

Yuji Yamaguchi's pupils contracted sharply as he recognized the three figures.

His friend instinctively wanted to turn around and run away.

But it was too late.

The tall, white young man, Smith, suddenly started running. He didn't run very fast, but rather rushed forward with an exaggerated, theatrical gait.

Sam followed closely behind him, the rainbow flag in his hand drawing a brilliant arc in the air.

Lin Zheng, in the middle, followed at a steady, imposing pace, neither too fast nor too slow.

The two men from Yamaguchi took off running, frantically weaving through the crowd.

"Hey! Isn't that Yamaguchi from the School of International Relations?" someone recognized him.

"Who's chasing him? Someone from the performance art club?"

"Oh my god, they look so scary."

Smith pulled an old megaphone from his waist, but instead of speaking, he pressed play.

A piercing noise, a mixture of sirens, pig squeals, and baby cries, instantly echoed across the entire lawn.

The sound was illogical, a chaotic jumble, yet it attracted more attention and created more panic than any shouting.

Chased by the noise, the two Yamaguchis fled frantically through the campus.

They dared not leave the school grounds because the world outside the school had no rules.

They assumed the campus was safe and well-regulated.

But today, the rules themselves have become the monsters that chase them.

They ran toward the campus police post, but the officer on duty hesitated when he saw the rainbow flags and various armbands on the pursuers.

He picked up the walkie-talkie and reported the situation to his superiors, speaking cautiously and only saying that it was "a performance art involving multiple cultural symbols."

The two Yamaguchi were desperate; they tried to rush into the crowd for shelter.

But the crowd, like the tide parted by the rocks, automatically made way for them.

Moses parting the sea belongs to this.

Nobody wants to mess with these three guys who look "tough as nails".

In the end, Yamaguchi and his friends were cornered at the foot of the university's memorial clock tower.

This is the center of the campus, where the flow of people is the greatest.

At this moment, a tight wall of people had formed around the steps.

The noise stopped.

The world suddenly fell silent, leaving only the heavy breathing of the two men in the Yamaguchi.

Smith and Sam flanked them on either side, with two rainbow flags fluttering above their heads like banners of judgment.

Lin Zheng slowly walked up to them, stood on a step higher than them, and looked down at them from above.

The paint on his face looked both eerie and solemn in the sunlight.

"Why?" Smith brought the megaphone to his lips, his voice not loud, but it amplified throughout the small square through the electrical current. "Why do you hate diversity? Why do you reject our message of love?"

Yuji Yamaguchi's face flushed red. He looked around and saw nothing but raised phones and indifferent or curious eyes.

"You lunatics! What do you want to do?!" he roared.

Sam immediately took a step forward, his massive frame exuding an imposing presence, and shouted at the crowd, "He's using ableist language! He called us crazy! This is discrimination against the neurodivergent community!"

A murmur of agreement immediately arose from the crowd.

"My God, he actually used the word 'madman'."

"This is a typical example of discriminatory remarks."

"Ableism is a zero-tolerance issue on our campus."

Yamaguchi Yuji was confused.

He just instinctively cursed, but was instantly labeled with a tag he couldn't understand at all.

His friend tried to defend himself: "We didn't! That's not what we meant! It was them..."

Smith immediately interrupted him, speaking angrily through the megaphone: "You are invalidating our feelings! This is psychological violence!"

The moment the term "psychological violence" was uttered, the atmosphere became even more somber.

In contemporary American college campuses, this accusation sometimes carries more weight than physical harm.

Yuji Yamaguchi felt a wave of dizziness.

He found himself caught in a web woven from various "isms" and "labels".

Every word he says and every expression he makes will be interpreted as some kind of "discrimination" or "violence".

He wanted to fight back, but found that he had no weapons.

The opponent's armor was too thick, thick enough to overwhelm all logic and common sense.

The onlookers in the surrounding area became the jury for this trial.

And they were judged guilty from the very beginning.

In the silence, Lin Zheng finally spoke.

He didn't use a megaphone; his voice was calm and clear, yet it was like a cold knife piercing Yuji Yamaguchi's ears.

"Yamaguchi Yuji," he read out the other person's name.

Yamaguchi's body trembled.

"I've heard that your grandfather was a respected businessman," Lin Zheng said slowly, his gaze piercing through the paint and fixed intently on Yamaguchi's eyes.

Yamaguchi didn't understand why he suddenly said this.

"Then, I'd like to know," Lin Zheng lowered his voice even further, "what kind of 'business' was your 'respected' grandfather doing in Nanjing, China, in 1937?"

This question was like a bomb that exploded in Yuji Yamaguchi's mind.

His face turned deathly pale instantly.

The students around them couldn't understand the deeper meaning behind it; they just looked on in confusion, wondering why the topic had suddenly jumped to distant history.

But Yuji Yamaguchi understood.

The expressions on his and his friend's faces said it all.

Private brawls and neighborhood conflicts were elevated to an unprecedented level at this moment, becoming a reckoning of historical guilt.

Lin Zheng took a step forward, walked down the steps, and faced Yamaguchi Yuji. They were so close that he could see the fear that had grown dramatically in the other's eyes.

"Confess," Lin Zheng said in English, the word simple yet heavy. "Confess the sins of your ancestors. For the women they raped, for the children they murdered, for the city they burned to the ground. Confess, here, now."

Smith and Sam pulled the rainbow flag down even lower, so that the edge of the flag almost touched the heads of the two men in the mountain pass.

The slogans on the flag that represent "love" and "inclusiveness" have now become the most powerful shackles.

Yuji Yamaguchi trembled all over. He tried to speak, but only a hoarse sound came out of his throat.

"I...I..."

His friend next to him had already broken down; his legs went weak, and he knelt on the ground, repeatedly saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" in Japanese.

Yuji Yamaguchi was still standing; that was his last vestige of dignity.

"Why should I... It's not me..." he struggled to explain in English.

Lin Zheng smiled, a cruel curve forming at the corners of his mouth beneath the greasepaint.

He didn't speak, but simply reached out and gently patted Yuji Yamaguchi's face.

Then, he turned to face all the students watching and said in a clear, loud voice: "Today, we are witnessing a historical denialist. A person who refuses to acknowledge the war crimes, the genocide, the massacre that happened in Nanjing in 1937!"

"Historical deniers!"

This hat is too big; it's big enough to crush anyone.

The crowd erupted in uproar.

They may not know the specific details of the Nanjing Massacre, but they know that "denying historical crimes" is an unforgivable grave offense in any civilized society.

Countless condemning, contemptuous, and angry gazes shot towards Yamaguchi Yuji like sharp arrows.

He felt as if he had been stripped naked, standing bare before the whole world, facing judgment.

His last line of defense completely collapsed.

He closed his eyes, bent over deeply, and with all his might, squeezed out a few broken words from his throat.

"I apologize for what my country did during the war."

The sound was very soft, but everyone in the quiet square could hear it clearly.

After saying that, he seemed to have all his strength drained away and collapsed to the ground.

Lin Zheng stared at him quietly for a few seconds.

The objective has been achieved.

This meticulously planned and absurd public humiliation crushed the opponent in the most thorough way.

He didn't say another word, turned around, and nodded to Smith and Sam.

The three maintained the same formation they had come in, silently and solemnly passing through the crowd that had automatically parted for them, and slowly departed.

Behind them were two spiritually dead bodies, and a square filled with shock, confusion, and discussion.

The sun is still shining brightly, but some things have changed forever.

Once they had walked far enough away and were sure no one was following them, Smith and Sam could no longer hold back.

"Oh my god! Lin! Did you see that? His last expression! It was worse than death!" Smith excitedly waved his fist, his face paint cracking from his smile.

Sam let out a low chuckle and patted Lin Zheng on the shoulder forcefully: "Well done! That's more satisfying than beating them a hundred times!"

Their faces beamed with victorious, excited smiles as they celebrated their perfect revenge.

Lin Zheng did not laugh.

The paint on his face was still intact; it was a hard mask covering it.

A soft, angry, and hesitant part of him died completely in that frenzied trial.

Instead, it has a hard, cold shell.

This shell can protect him and help him adapt to the madness of this world.

But at the same time, it also made him feel a sense of unfamiliarity he had never experienced before.

He looked down at his hands; he was looking at a tool.

It turns out that some debts can only be repaid through another kind of madness.

He recalled Yuji Yamaguchi's pale face at the end, and felt no pity whatsoever.

He knew that from this day forward, he would no longer be the international student who just wanted to survive in the cracks.

He turned into something else.

Something colder, more resilient, and more dangerous.

Where will this new force lead him?

Has he also become the kind of person he once despised, someone who manipulates the dignity of others?

He didn't know the answer.

He simply raised his head, faced the sunlight, and continued walking forward.

Behind him were two friends still cheering for the victory.