When Wang Xiaoliang woke that morning, he really wanted to practice standing meditation.
He could not say why. There was no reason. He simply wanted to.
His thoughts had been too unsettled lately for him to keep standing. Today was different. He really wanted to stand for a while.
He got dressed and went downstairs. Fan Qishan was already in the living room, standing perfectly straight, his eyes half closed, his breathing deep and even.
Wang Xiaoliang walked over and stood beside him, his feet shoulder-width apart, slowly raising his hands.
His mind was actually calm.
It was strange. These past few days, he had barely had a full night's sleep. His head had been filled with the beeping of unanswered calls, with "The number you have dialed is switched off." Yet at this moment, this morning, his mind was like water without a breath of wind, impossibly still.
Even he was a little puzzled.
How had I managed to calm down?
The moment that thought arose, it was over.
Worry surged up. Fear followed close behind. His friends' faces flashed past, one after another-Huang Xueli, Zhao Nan, Zeng Haiyan, Tian Jiayi, Kong Xiuyun. One after another, they had fallen asleep. One after another, they could no longer be reached.
Then there was Zijin.
Every day he called. Every day her phone was off.
His body began to tense, unconsciously drawing upward.
He lowered himself into a slight squat.
At that very instant, he became aware of something.
There was a "him" watching all of this.
Not the him who was feeling afraid. Another one. The him deep within his mind, watching his own emotions surge.
The feeling came so suddenly.
He remembered the line in the Book of Fate-observe joy and anger within; notice each stirring of the mind.