Lin Qi stood on the stage. He had someone bring over a single-seat sofa, then sat down.
He held his forehead with both hands, elbows pressed against his thighs, hunched over. He looked somewhat... haggard.
The entire scene seemed frozen. Only after a long while did a sigh escape, making people realize that there was nothing wrong with the television signal.
He straightened up and looked around, his hands naturally resting on the sofa's armrests. "I've been thinking about how to tell you all these things."
The camera gave him a close-up. He looked especially melancholy, with a hint of hesitation.
"Sometimes I can feel that I'm getting old. I can't stand here like I used to and tell you that we're invincible."
"I can't lie to you and say that everything will be fine."
"When I was young, I was full of energy. I thought there was nothing I couldn't overcome, but after I tried, I began to hesitate, to waver, to wonder whether I could really accomplish those things."
"That's a very sad thing."
"When I was still in high school, I talked with my father, and he asked me what I could do in the future."
"I listed many possibilities."
His hands made a few small gestures. Those words seemed to surge out of his memories along with those gestures, then "pour" forth.
"I said I wanted to become a billionaire, a lawyer, a dentist, or perhaps a scientist."
"I had many dreams. Sometimes, I even thought becoming a police officer would be nice."
"But he told me that I could only work in a factory."
"I refused to accept it."
His tone changed slightly. There was a hint of nostalgia for the past, along with the amused recollection of his own youthful naivety. "I thought I