In the era of emotional cleansing, crying is a capital crime.
At the funeral, the corners of my mouth had to rise by 0.5 Centimeters - this was the "standard grief" certified by the system. More than 0.01, And the cleaning team will take me away.
Until the silver earring on my left ear suddenly became hot, and a line of words was burned behind my ear: "Banqiao Town, Beidou Bridge, etc."
Three hundred kilometers away, in the blank space of the system map, forty-one hand-woven lotus lanterns lit up simultaneously on a moonless night. The old man keeping the lamp stared at me: "Bronze woke up, and four thousand years of crying found its ears."
"Now, they want a throat—"
"Cry for the first time for the muffled humans."
I became that throat. My wife's blood, my father's authority, and the list the nurse had hidden for ten years were all waiting for me to speak.
Wait for me to carve words with blood, release floods with tears, and turn my body into a conduit.
Thirty-seven days later, I will be completely bronzed, stand under the bridge, and become a lamp that can burn for forty years.
By that time, the predators' tentacles had stretched out from deep space, and their assessment report read:
"The emotional peak of the earth's civilization has reached 99%, marked as: ripe fruit."
"Countdown to harvest: three years."
Click to read and let four thousand years of tears find your eyes.
Let the cry remembered by bronze become an everlasting lamp in your heart.
