On Autopsy Avenue, in the Strangled-to-Death Community, residents were assigned to different floors according to how dark their tongues were.
Thanks to his father's severe alcohol dependency, deposits of alcohol metabolites and damage to his oral mucosa had caused pigmentation, leaving his tongue coating a blackish purple.
Only then had the whole family been able to move onto the safest floor in the community—the first floor. Jumping from here carried the lowest risk of injury. There was only the possibility of being crushed to death.
He tied up his youngest maternal uncle, who was fighting himself, placed a bottle of liquor diluted with more than half water outside his father's bedroom, prepared a newly collected set of the world's unsolved problems for Maternal Grandfather, and put Mother in the bathroom, where conditions were suitable for growing mushrooms. Once all that was done, Doctor Gao shouldered his schoolbag.
"I'm off to work."
As he opened the door, all sorts of bizarre smells flooded his nostrils. He had never gotten used to them, but his family all said this was the scent of life.
Avoiding the bloodstains in the hallway, Doctor Gao unfastened the chain on the railing and climbed onto Old Ma's back.
Old Ma was a spirited horse, twenty-three years old that year, who had received professional training. His large frame made him uncomfortable to ride, but he made up for it with his speed.
"Congratulations. You're getting more and more comfortable running on all fours."
"It's all thanks to your treatment. I never knew I was actually a horse before. Life was so painful. Now I only hold myself to a horse's moral standards, and all my symptoms have disappeared." The leather straps dug into his muscles, but Old Ma felt no pain and ran with all his might.