Song of Ordinary People

A beautiful, familiar face appeared in the center of the video.

It was Wei Zijin.

She sat in a cozy-looking room, with warm yellow lighting and a row of bookshelves behind her. Wearing light makeup, she smiled gently at the camera, her smile carrying a quiet, sincere strength.

"As graduation approaches, I want to interview 100 university students who are about to graduate and record their most honest stories and thoughts."

Her voice was clear and gentle as it came through the phone's speaker, sounding especially distinct in the quiet dorm room.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Little Wei. Today, we're interviewing my university classmate, Wang Xiaoliang."

"Why did I choose him as my first interviewee? You'll find my answer at the end of the video."

The shot changed.

In the faint light of early morning, a blurry figure struggled to move something.

The camera moved closer. Cases of drinks were being stacked neatly on a battered tricycle. One case after another went on, and the tricycle was soon full.

A voice-over began. It was Wang Xiaoliang's own voice, noticeably nervous.

"My name is Wang Xiaoliang, and I'm a university student about to graduate."

That was the first sentence he had spoken to the phone's camera in the café.

The video was edited at a brisk pace.

The visual storytelling packed a powerful punch.

A university student on the verge of graduation was doing grueling physical labor. That was the first stark contrast the video presented to its viewers.

The camera followed him as he transported the drinks back to the foot of his dorm building. Liu Xinyu appeared briefly, helping him carry the drinks upstairs.

Then the camera focused on his backpack.

It was an enormous, boxy black backpack. Bottles of drinks were stuffed into it one by one until there was no room for even one more.

He shouldered the heavy pack and headed toward the Library.

Seen from behind in the video, he looked somewhat lonely, but his steps were remarkably steady.

He delivered drinks to the students who had ordered them, then handed little cards to those bent over their revision.

Some accepted their drinks and scanned the payment code.

Others waved him away, rejecting him rudely.

The camera captured it all with vivid authenticity.

During gaps in his busy schedule, he would lean against the wall outside the Library, take out a book, and squeeze in a few pages.

Sunlight fell across his profile, intent and earnest.

Then the scene changed, returning to the interview in the café.

Wei Zijin's voice-over came in at just the right moment.

"What made you choose to earn money this way just before graduation?"

On-screen, Wang Xiaoliang fell silent for a few seconds, seemingly gathering his words.

"The first reason is that I'm about to graduate. I feel that, as an adult, I can't keep asking my family for money without feeling bad about it."

"The other reason... is that earning money gives me a sense of security. I don't make much, but it feels solid."

Wei Zijin keenly picked up on the key phrase in his answer.

"A sense of security?" Her voice sounded again. "Do you mean you felt very insecure before?"

The question made Wang Xiaoliang's heart tighten again.

On-screen, he instinctively looked away from the camera and out the window.

Only after a long while did he turn back, as though he had made up his mind about something.

"Yes."

"First, there's the anxiety about finding a job. Every day, I watch my classmates get offers one after another. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't anxious."

"Then there's deciding whether to go back to my hometown or stay in this city. My family wants me to go home, take the civil service exam, and live a stable life. But I... I don't really want that."

"All that uncertainty about the future leaves me feeling very insecure."

Wei Zijin pressed further. "Have you figured out what kind of work you want to do now?"

On-screen, Wang Xiaoliang slowly shook his head.

"Not yet."

Yet a small, relaxed smile appeared on his face.

"But now I know that, wherever I end up in the future, I probably won't starve."

Wei Zijin had skillfully edited more than an hour of interview footage into a video barely over ten minutes long. Much of the trivial conversation had been cut, leaving a tightly paced account of an ordinary university student's life.

Here, the video's pace slowed.

The scene cut back to the café.

It showed the end of the interview.

Wei Zijin looked at him and smiled. "I know you're good at calligraphy. I'm moving soon. Could I ask you... to write something for me?"

On-screen, Wang Xiaoliang looked utterly surprised.

"Of course."

The next shot was in a spacious calligraphy room.

Wang Xiaoliang spread out a clean sheet of xuan paper, took up a brush, and dipped it generously in ink.

The moment he picked up the brush, his entire bearing changed.

He was no longer the slightly awkward drink vendor outside the Library, nor the graduate who had seemed nervous in front of the camera.

He was calm and focused, his arm steady.

The brush tip glided across the paper in smooth, flowing strokes.

The camera moved in for a close-up, clearly showing the beginning, development, turn, and finish of every stroke.

The characters were bold and powerful, yet an indescribable tenderness showed in the fine details of their finishing strokes.

Four large characters emerged in one fluid sequence.

When he finished the last character and lifted his brush, the camera slowly pulled back, revealing the entire piece.

Green, Green Is My Collar.

The scene abruptly changed to Wei Zijin's dorm room.

She was still sitting in front of the camera, but this time her expression was more serious.

"At this point in the video, you may think the main reason I chose Wang Xiaoliang as my first interviewee is the footage you're about to see."

As soon as she finished speaking, the screen filled with violently shaking footage recorded on a phone.

A clamor of voices, the piercing screech of brakes, and a woman's screams instantly filled Wang Xiaoliang's ears.

It was the scene of a traffic accident.

An electric scooter lay on the ground. Beside it lay a young woman, her leg bent at an unnatural angle, blood pouring from her forehead.

A crowd surrounded her, but most people were merely watching or taking out their phones to film.

Just then, a young man in a white T-shirt pushed through the crowd.

Without hesitation, he pulled off his T-shirt, quickly crouched down, and pressed it firmly against the young woman's bleeding wound.

His movements were practiced. Maintaining pressure, he picked up his phone with one hand and dialed. "Is this the Emergency Medical Center? There's been a serious traffic accident here. The location is..."

He even found a moment to reassure the young woman, who was close to passing out from the pain. "Don't be afraid. Relax. The ambulance will be here soon. You're going to be all right."

The person filming was very close, capturing the concentration on his face and the beads of sweat on his forehead with perfect clarity.

The seconds and minutes ticked by.

He stayed in that position until the wail of an ambulance sounded in the distance.

The paramedics arrived and took over care of the injured woman.

He quietly rose to his feet and stepped aside.

The ambulance sped away, its siren blaring, and the crowd gradually dispersed.

Only he remained in the frame.

Bare-chested, he stood at the roadside in a daze, holding the white T-shirt that was now soaked red with blood.

The footage ended abruptly.

The screen went black again, leaving only a soothing piano melody flowing quietly.

The video ended with the title, "Song of Ordinary People."

So...

So that was it.

She had been among the crowd at the accident that day.

And she had filmed everything.

Almost instinctively, he tapped the creator's profile picture.

Her account was called "Little Wei Interviews."

The profile picture was Wei Zijin's smiling face.

There were only two videos on the account.

The newest was "Song of Ordinary People," which had just been posted.

The other video's upload date was several weeks earlier.

Its thumbnail showed him from behind, standing alone and bare-chested, holding his bloodstained shirt.

The title read, "The Heroes Among Us: A Traffic Accident, a Moment of Stepping Up."

The video was short, only a little over a minute long. It was the same footage that had just played at the end of "Song of Ordinary People."