Breakfast

The instant Xing Yao's consciousness returned, he said nothing and hurried back to the real world, stepping forward and charging like mad toward the front door!

Bang-!

The door was yanked open.

Outside, Clone No. 5 stood all alone in the wind, holding a large bag of breakfast in both hands, his hair blown into a tangled mess. He stood frozen in place, utterly disheveled in the wind.

Xing Yao did not even give him a proper look. His gaze snapped straight to the food in his hands.

His voice instantly filled with distress and urgency:

"Oh no, oh no, oh no-has all the breakfast gone completely cold?!"

The words had barely left his mouth-

The space behind him trembled slightly.

Clone No. 1, Clone No. 2, Clone No. 3, Clone No. 4, and Clone No. 6 returned from the mental world to reality one after another, all crowding toward the doorway.

Everyone's eyes locked onto that bag of stone-cold breakfast in his hands like magnets.

Clone No. 1 craned his neck, looking heartbroken:

"Holy shit... it really all went cold? The steamed buns must be hard by now, right?"

Clone No. 2 nodded faintly, his tone regretful. "The soy milk isn't hot anymore either."

Clone No. 4 frowned. "What a waste."

Clone No. 6 had just woken up and was still groggy, but peered over too. "Food... cold..."

Clone No. 5: "..."

He stood there, still holding that bag of breakfast that had long since gone completely cold.

The wind kept blowing.

He kept being ignored.

A moment ago, he had merely been a mess.

Now-

He was a mess to the point of numbness, to the point of questioning his life, to the point of shutting himself off completely.

Just as everyone's eyes remained glued to that bag of stone-cold breakfast, with not a single person paying Clone No. 5 any attention, leaving him standing there in such disarray that he was about to question his life-

A hand suddenly patted his shoulder gently.

Clone No. 5 turned his head blankly.

Clone No. 3 stood beside him. On that usually aloof, expressionless face, there was actually a trace of complicated sympathy between fellow sufferers.

He looked at Clone No. 5, then at the bunch who cared only about food and did not take them seriously at all. He gently patted his shoulder and spoke one word at a time, his voice low but filled with complete understanding:

"Brother, it's okay."

Those few words expressed every grievance.

Clone No. 5 looked into Clone No. 3's eyes. In that gaze was the loneliness of being forgotten, the hurt of being ignored, the helplessness of being treated as a tool, and a subtle sense of kinship: So I'm not the only one who has it this bad.

Their eyes met in wordless silence.

There was no need to say another sentence.

There was no need for another word of explanation.

With just a look, one meeting of their eyes, and one gentle pat on the shoulder, they completely understood each other's feelings.

One had been forgotten outside in the cold wind until all the breakfast went cold;

The other had been dragged off to do hard labor and could not even copy cards.

One was an invisible tool.

The other was a dedicated wage slave.

There could be no better example of brothers in misery.

They simply exchanged that quiet look, and a wave of sorrow and unspoken understanding instantly rose in their hearts: both were castaways at the ends of the earth.

Beside them, Xing Yao and Clones No. 1, 2, 4, and 6 were still chattering around that bag of cold breakfast.

Meanwhile, in the corner,

The two most miserable clones,

At that moment,

Silently achieved a resonance of souls.

Just as Clone No. 3 and Clone No. 5 were still immersed in the sorrow of being "brothers in misery," gazing silently at each other, Xing Yao finally found his conscience, beckoned to them, and said warmly:

"Hey, both of you, come over and eat with us."

The two had only just shuffled over when Xing Yao's gaze shifted and suddenly landed on Clone No. 3. As though he had thought of a brilliant idea, his eyes lit up, and with a grand wave of his hand, he dangled a pie in the sky on the spot:

"No. 3, put in a little more hard work and make another batch of cards!

Once we've earned enough, we won't just buy computers for everyone-we'll buy one for Clone No. 5 too!"

The moment he said that-

The tiny trace of warmth that had just surfaced on Clone No. 3's face instantly froze solid!

His fragile little heart, only just comforted, took a crushing critical hit on the spot, blasted crispy outside and tender inside.

So... comforting him and encouraging him had all been to make him work even harder?

He was supposed to work himself to death making cards to buy someone else a computer?

Clone No. 3 was utterly dumbfounded, his eyes vacant and the corner of his mouth twitching. His mental state collapsed outright.

Beside him, Clone No. 5 saw it all and instantly understood everything.

He gently raised his hand and patted Clone No. 3's shoulder, his face full of sympathy mixed with a little relief at having survived disaster. His tone was calm, but every word pierced the heart as he softly uttered a few short words:

"Brother, hang in there."

Those words were like the final straw that broke the camel's back.

An airy little remark, yet it slammed heavily into his heart,

Clone No. 3's heart completely shattered on the spot.

The brothers in misery who had just huddled together for warmth,

At this moment, had their roles completely reversed.

One was miserable to the extreme,

The other was instantly freed.

A breakfast that was hardly lavish, and had even gone somewhat cold, began amid the bustle.

Xing Yao and the other clones chatted and laughed, eating while discussing their plans to make cards, earn Resentment Points, and buy new computers. The atmosphere was relaxed and cheerful.

Only Clone No. 3 sat in the corner, mechanically chewing his food one bite at a time. It tasted like wax.

Everyone else was talking about the future, happiness, and new computers. His mind was filled with nothing but the words "make some more cards."

He had barely spent any time huddling with Clone No. 5 for warmth before a single sentence knocked him back into the reality of being a wage slave. The whole world was happy, and he alone silently bore it all.

By the end of the meal, all the laughter and joy belonged to everyone else. He had nothing.

In the end, amid the cheerful atmosphere of the meal, a world in which only Clone No. 3 got hurt had been fully achieved.