ACOUSTIC METADATA

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• TIMESTAMP: Autumn, 1978

• LOCATION: Compound No. 7 Gate, Beijing

• STATUS: Processed by High-grade reagents

• AUDIO DATA: Envious saliva swallow, A tiny sharp tsk

 

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I stood in the sun and touched my hair. I had become a "normal person" fixed by high-grade reagents. Behind my sunglasses, the world remained a sterile white before twilight.

 

At the compound gate, Gao Yong intercepted my bicycle. His squinted eyes flashed a white light as he scrutinized my new, artificial darkness. He let out a tiny, sharp tsk. “Looking sharp, White Eagle.”

 

I ignored him. My scalp was still itching; I reached up to scratch the chemical residue. “Why so shy? Heh-heh.”

 

I was indeed embarrassed. Gao Yong’s father wasn't high-ranking enough; he had no right to the free services at that barbershop. I could hear him swallowing the viscous saliva of envy—a thick, rhythmic sound of a man standing outside a closed door.

 

In the end, he took that envy and smeared it onto my heart in front of Rowan. It was a slow-acting poison, waiting four years to be unleashed.