ecstasy

A whole stack of "Parapsychological Explorations" from August 1996 was stacked into a cube, smelling of ink mixed with rust.

He picked and chose, and finally picked up the issue at the top.

As soon as you open the magazine, you can hear the sound of dripping music.

A thin cassette tape is embedded in a hole cut into the center of the coated paper on the back cover. Opening the supplement plays a tune, arranged in chapter order, to enhance the reader's reading experience. However, the capacity is limited, and the 16-bit music is crudely produced. The song is printed on the back cover—Sergei Kuznetsov's "Gray Night."

There had been a number of Soviet singers and bands touring Mong Cai recently, and "Parapsychological Exploration" had caught on. But there was only a short, repetitive melody; Doudou grew tired of it and pulled the tape out and tucked it into his pocket.

-

Doudou carefully rubbed the stuck pages apart—but the fragile paper still broke a corner between his fingers. He grimaced in pain and hesitated whether to secretly change to a new magazine, but then hurried on.

This month's issue of "Parapsychological Explorations" is still pretty much the same as the previous issues; most of it is just a bunch of vague, poorly printed snapshots of the story:

For example, there's the "Outer Space Killer Big Head Monster," which descends from the sky, inhabits a child's body, and then hatches; the "Suriname Full Metal Slug," which wields a full set of handmade weaponry and hunts nighttime humans; and the "Pleiades Mantis," which feeds on electronic media but enjoys reading the inner workings of human beings.

It has been a few years since I bought "Parapsychological Exploration" - the main content before was mostly about unclear legends and anecdotes from all over the world.

But in recent years, there have been many strange stories in Mong Cai or other cities in Jiaozhi Autonomous Prefecture: countless, with new ones every year -

A teacher at school once confiscated Doudou's magazine and returned it to him sweating for no apparent reason. He said:

"The editorial office of Parapsychology is located in Mong Cai. They are simply increasing the tourism and cultural appeal of our city through the influence of their media content."

Doudou didn't think so - because there were some genuine items among them, although they weren't what he liked.

As usual, he turned to an anecdote about a child whose parents were killed in a gas explosion but who was unharmed: the title was "Indestructible" - Doudou was a little tired of reading this story.

Somehow, for the past three years, Parapsychological Exploration has always brought up his story to fill its pages. Among the inexplicable and subtle phenomena that have increased in Mong Cai City, Dou Dou's "deeds" are really too unconventional:

It was so old-fashioned that it even affected his mood every time he opened the magazine. The only consolation was that the information published in "Parapsychological Exploration" was limited and his name was not included.

-

Doudou pulled out a notebook, pen, and a creased map of Mong Cai City from the front pocket of his schoolbag and sat down next to the self-service newsstand.

"New. New, but still the same old ones."

Although Mong Cai City has been very fashionable in "Parapsychological Exploration" recently, the monsters/mysterious phenomena/strange stories that are reported over and over again in the magazine are still the same ones: there is nothing new that Doudou can record.

He nailed a large hanging board on an empty wall in his house, with a map of Mong Cai City on it; and pinned clippings from "Parapsychological Exploration" to each corresponding location with pins.

This is something Doudou learned from "The Wire" and "The X-Files", but it didn't really come in handy: it just gave him some more ways to pass the summer vacation.

When he turned to the last page of the magazine, Doudou yawned, shook his head, and stood up - he could only go to the old place tonight.

Finding the monster that appeared in Mong Cai City - a real monster, at least he had to see it with his own eyes: this was his summer vacation plan; but now that summer is almost over, he still hasn't finished it.

-

I walked from Doudou into Tianhu Community, passed the green belt without flowers and plants and the empty parking spaces, and then opened the elevator door covered with cobwebs. I didn't meet any neighbors - except for the security guard sleeping at the door: the old man with wrinkles on his face wore the same blue shirt with sweat stains under his armpits every day, and snored in the guard room.

Everything was as usual, just as Doudou was always happy: but this good mood was soon tarnished.

Because something was different in the elevator.

Doudou sniffed:

The smell of cigarettes was strong, almost acrid; two cigarette butts, their filters ripped and ripped, lay scattered on the floor. Although the smoke had long since dissipated and the elevator was no longer foggy, everything was still clear.

Someone smoked in the elevator, and even smoked more than one cigarette--

A blush began to spread from his chest, along his neck and onto Doudou's cheeks, like a light layer of cinnabar on his clean, white skin. His delicate features suddenly twisted and curled, moving towards the center of his face, until they formed a terrifying, almost vortex-like mass.

Doudou was very angry.

boom!

He clawed into the elevator wall with one hand.

Anger flowed through his bulging veins, and blue veins like small snakes could be seen under his skin:

How could someone smoke in an elevator? Who on earth would smoke in an elevator? This person is so evil, so evil—

Gaga, Gaga

The iron sheet used to cover the hole in the elevator howled and twisted between his fingers until it curled up like a half-dry rag.

-

By the time Doudou finally opened the elevator's metal door, his anger had vanished: the originally smooth metal walls inside the elevator had somehow become uneven and full of bumps - like a ball of paper that had been crumpled up and then unfolded and smoothed, but the marks left behind could never be faded.

He used his feet to hold the elevator door open and closed, and fanned himself with his palms and the magazines he had bought - until the only smell left in the elevator was the musty and rusty air, and it became the same as usual; only then did he leave contentedly.

Doudou lives in room 402, the only room in the entire corridor with Spring Festival couplets pasted on the door; Doudou turns the key and returns to his home where he lives alone.

At first glance, the room looked like a Dalmatian dog with a skin disease.

The walls, floors, furniture, and even the ceiling were covered in A4 papers with various sentences, long and short. They were densely packed, overlapping, and flooded the room with a grayish white. On them were Doudou's childish and rough handwriting:

"Be a good child. Children are the infancy of human beings. Good children = good people." (The sentence was added in small print at the end: "So to be a good person, you must first be a "human being".")

[What does it take to be considered a human?] (A large, thick, black question mark drawn with a water-based marker.)

[If you do bad things, you are not a good person.] (This paragraph was crossed out and replaced with [If you beat up bad people, you are a good child.])

[If it doesn't look like something that's not human, it looks like a human.] (Next to this awkward sentence, a special issue of Monster Surprises from April 1996 was tacked on: the Pleiades mantis on the cover had been smeared with a large cross by Doudou.)

Some of the manuscript papers had yellowed edges, and some had become curled after being soaked in water and then dried: they seemed to have been written intermittently over several years.

Doudou dug out the printed workbook from his schoolbag and tore it along the dividing line. He took out a pen and wrote a few big words on it, then punched in exclamation marks:

[Caught a guy smoking in the elevator! ! ! ! ]

He jumped up lightly and used thumbtacks to pin the big slogan above his head - his hair touched the ceiling more than three meters high.

"Well."

Doudou tilted his head, pondering for a moment, then tore off another piece of homework paper. This time, he was a little calmer, restrainedly scribbling a few large words in ink: "Don't smoke in the elevator." He poked his head with the ballpoint pen, and finally added the word "please" before the sentence.

He walked out of the house, opened the elevator door again, and pressed the homework paper against the stainless steel wall in the elevator room.

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Doudou patted the wall as gently as he could until the wall sank obediently, embedding the homework paper in it like a picture frame; only then did he go home satisfied.

Chapter 5 Empty Talk

Over the past few years, Doudou's former neighbors have gradually moved away from the residential complex called Tianhu Community:

There are many reasons for this, including the declining profitability of the tape factory near Tianhu Community, or the development of other cities in Jiaozhi Autonomous Prefecture; but the most important factor is the gas explosion that occurred a few years ago.

After that, all sorts of strange things happened in Tianhu Community: a neighbor disappeared without a trace in his bedroom, a neighbor vomited so much that the entire building's sewer was blocked, and another neighbor was found with his head embedded in the floor.

Although these three unlucky men and women were finally discovered to have run away from home through the window/vomited too much fat after taking the wrong diet pills/drank a pound of white wine and had to kowtow at home, etc., the reasons were simple and prankish.

But in a few years, this community may become a new tourist attraction in Mong Cai City with the name of haunted house.

But not all furniture left with the neighbors.

There were no valuable home appliances, of course, but those old, worn-out things were often piled up in front of the large-scale scrap recycling station outside the community. Doudou picked up quite a few of them--

There were several groups of bright red plastic chairs stacked together, and fishing chairs with backs and bases discolored by sweat; the favorite was a set of listening peripherals, but the corresponding radio station had been shut down long ago, and now it was just some uniquely shaped decorations.

The apartment, which had been repainted long ago after the explosion, was almost empty, except for the homework papers filled with words that made it seem full.

But even if you add in these picked-up things that are somewhere between garbage and scrap, there is not much furniture: this 83-square-meter space once housed a family of three; but now Doudou lives alone.

He picked out a blank tape from the drawer, put some tape on it, wrote his name on the tape with a pen, and then inserted it into the tape recorder embedded in the wall.

Doudou pressed the round button on the recorder, then sat down on the folding chair in the middle of the living room and cleared his throat.

The tape creaked into motion: the recording had begun—before continuing his little adventure tonight, he had to prepare the application materials for the "Parapsychological Exploration" enthusiasts' exchange meeting.

Doudou glanced around, his eyes sweeping over the stools, round chairs, and beanbags that formed a circle. He then looked down at the homework paper on his lap, covered in traces of corrections and rewrites, and the application form he had just cut out from the "Paranormal Psychology" magazine.

"Hello everyone, my name is Doudou."

"I'm still in school and live in Mong Cai. It's a small town in Jiaozhi Autonomous Prefecture with a small population. But I heard it's going to become a free trade zone soon. By then, more people will probably move in. I've been buying 'Parapsychological Exploration' for over two years."

Doudou lowered his head and used the tip of his fountain pen to tick the "Self-introduction" box in the first column of the "Instructions" section of the attached page:

"I wanted to join the discussion board and fan exchange meeting because I had a lot of questions, but I didn't know how to talk to others. So after I found this reader discussion board on Parapsychological Exploration, I wanted to give it a try."

After a brief pause, Doudou added another sentence, then checked the "Reason for joining" column:

"Yeah, yeah. The reason I subscribed to Parapsychology is because I want to understand the difference between monsters and humans. I also bought Monster Demystified, but it only talks about ancient legends and dinosaurs. However, the material in Parapsychology is all recent, things happening around us."

"Ah-ah, I'd like to add one more thing about this—if it's not good, the administrator can delete it for me—which is that I'm very troubled. Why did Parapsychological Exploration publish my story in the magazine? And it was published several times. I've read it many times in the past few years."

"Editor, are you saying I'm one of the monsters? That's not nice. Oh, sorry. I just saw the instructions saying [suggestions and corrections] should be recorded last. I'll talk about that later."

The stools, round chairs and lazy sofas were motionless and silent, and no response came; the faint noise outside the community was as disturbing as the buzz of mosquitoes.

Doudou rubbed his nose, feeling a little embarrassed:

"I think the world we live on right now—the Earth we live on—can be divided into monsters and humans, right? The Pleiades mantis, the Loch Ness monster, the aliens in UFOs, and so on—these are monsters, so the rest should be considered humans? Think of it this way, right?"

"Because I read about many monsters in Parapsychology that can disguise themselves as humans. But I'm not an animal. I'm not a cat, dog, bat, mosquito, or anything like that. I'm not a plant like a flower or a tree."

"So I was thinking, if I think in this direction; if they look the same, but they're not monsters, then they must be human? That's what I think, but I'm not sure. I checked it on the mainframe computer at the city library."

Doudou picked up his schoolbag, pulled out his tattered notebook, and traced the excerpts line by line with his finger:

"[In biology, human beings usually refer to Homo sapiens, but are occasionally used to refer to prehistoric species of the genus Homo, part of the order Primates and family Hominidae. Members of the genus Homo generally evolved from apes/Australopithecus.] I copied this. We have mirrors at school, so I look like everyone else, I can confirm that."

He turned the page again and continued reading:

"[Humans are defined as organisms capable of language, writing, complex social organization, and technological development, especially their ability to form groups and institutions for mutual support and assistance]."

"That's pretty clear. But the [Perseus] in the July 1995 issue seems to be the same; they don't seem that different from humans."

"So I'm looking for a way to distinguish between humans and monsters: or a way to directly determine whether I'm human or not, or a more easily verifiable definition of human, etc., would be great too!"

"Yeah, I hope the discussion forum can help me. I've been worried about this for years. If there's no answer, I'll record a new thread and send it over. The instructions don't say whether this one counts as a thread, so maybe only the administrators can hear it?"

Doudou paused. Of course, no response came from the surroundings:

"Well, besides what I mentioned earlier, I hope the editor won't publish me in the magazine anymore. I feel like there's a lot of better material in Mong Cai City recently! If I have the chance, I will do my best to submit it."

Doudou flipped to the bottom of the [Instructions] and found the last note: "Polite thanks, maintain order in the discussion group":

"That's about it; I hope my application will be approved. Thank you to the administrators for reviewing it, and thank you to the other readers of the discussion board. Goodbye!"

Click.

Doudou stopped the recorder and nodded to the empty seats around him.

After thinking for a moment, he stood up again and bowed.

-

A tape with a self-introduction, membership requirements to be filled out and checked, and a ten-yuan bill - as annual membership dues.

Doudou carefully stuffed these into the envelope and sealed the opening. The envelope became bulging, so he tore off the transparent tape and wrapped the envelope horizontally in several layers. Then he used a paste brush to stick on a fifty-cent stamp:

The editorial office of Parapsychology Exploration is in Mong Cai City, but to be safe, Doudou still put a more expensive stamp on it. Doudou opened the iron door and the screen door for ventilation; he carefully stuffed the envelope into the opening of the mailing channel at the door.

In the evening, the Asia-Europe Post deliverymen would collect mail from the pipeline outlet at the entrance of the residential complex. I heard that in larger cities, where pipelines directly connected to the distribution stations in the city center, the deliverymen's work was much easier.

But Doudou hasn’t seen it yet: he and his parents moved away from Kuala Lumpur and Singapore before plumbing became commonplace.

It was afternoon, and Mong Cai had become a scorching steamer, releasing heat to more than one million balls of fillings - if glue was used to stick the envelopes together, it would have melted by now; as for the smaller stamps, it didn't have much of an impact.

Squeak--

With the sound of something hard sliding down the pipe, the envelope disappeared through the opening: it should arrive soon.

Chapter 6 Beep

At around eleven o'clock in the evening, almost midnight, Doudou went out.

Doudou walked out of the residential complex, and saw the security guard dozing off with headphones on (he seemed to sleep twenty hours a day); he walked quickly past the two rows of stalls at the main gate selling late-night snacks, the heat of which blocked out the street lights - as he passed by, he felt a thin layer of grease on his coat.

Doudou was tucked into his shiny ginger-yellow raincoat—it was called a raincoat, but he thought it looked more like a windbreaker. It was both windproof and rainproof: even when he was at school, Doudou would wear it over his uniform.

I have been wearing it for several years, and the raincoat has become a little gray, making Doudou look like a giant phantom lemon in the hazy night; it was too loose before, but now it fits just right.

In the inner pocket of his raincoat, Doudou stuffed this year's mid-year supplement of "Parapsychological Exploration" and clipped a bookmark on one of the pages - this was his project tonight, to go and stake out a strange creature called the "Pleiades Mantis" near his home.

-

The light signs flickered, replacing the moonlight on the cloudy night.