1 Yi Ming's Daily Life

"Ming, wake up!"

My beloved girlfriend Nana cries out my name, awakening me instantaneously. In the middle of a date in the park, we decided to rest on a public bench. But little did I know: simply sitting beside her comforting presence would send me straight to sleep. I feel so grateful to have such a loving girlfriend.

"Ming, wake the hell up!"

My dad slaps me a few times across the face, bringing me to my senses promptly if not painfully.

It was just a dream. There is no Nana, no romance, and unfortunately no intimate dates in the park either.

"I'm off to work. There are salted fish and string beans in the fridge."

I give him a blank stare as he sets off hastily for work, leaving me alone in our musty basement apartment. Still laying on the couch, I glance at the wall across from me. A statue of the legendary Guan Yu stands on a cheap, wooden, wall hung shrine, judging me with eyes full of contempt. Under it was a stubby plastic stool, which harbored our crude ancestral shrine: just some Chinese characters displayed on a sheet of red paper, encased in a painting frame, and accompanied by two candles.

Having decided to skip breakfast, I vacate the comfort of the couch to sit at a table beside the worship accessories, where my laptop is.

"Looks like it'll be some good hentai today."

With a click of the keyboard and mouse, the laptop displays an impressive collection of anime pornography. And with a swipe of the hand, a bottle of moisturizing lotion and a box of extra-absorbent tissues appears on the table. Thirty minutes later, I dispose of five tissues and wash my hands while regretting the disgraceful things that had just transpired. Looking into the mirror, my disheveled jet hair and vampiric pale skin have undoubtedly seen better days. But I'm quite used to all of it by now.

The next stop is the boxy kitchen area, consisting of a countertop, overhanging shelves, a fridge, a stove, and a sink. There's also a rice cooker, a must-have for any East Asian family.

I am hungry, but I don't feel motivated to make anything. What a dilemma. I stand inertly in the kitchen scratching my head.

"Yi Ming, you utter fool! Millet and rice belong to those who work for it! If you don't even have what it takes to prepare complimentary food for yourself, then you deserve to starve!"

The fervent Guan Yu statue animates and points his heirloom polearm at me, condemning me for my insolence. He jumps down from his decrepit throne like a tiger, limber and dynamic. Although he stands at merely half my height, his green turban, and truly menacing aura demand respect.

"I come down every day to remind you that you have to eat to live! GO NOW BEFORE I MAKE YOU A EUNUCH!"

Not wanting to lose my fertility, I brandish a wok and prepare some leftover rice, onions, eggs, and krill shrimps. First, oil preheats the wok, followed by the rice, shrimp, onions, and lastly the eggs. Guan Yu watches intently as I stir-fry, his hand stroking his flowing beard.

Once I finish cooking, I pour the contents into a porcelain bowl and enjoy it with some anime on my laptop at the table. Of course, Guan Yu continues to scrutinize me:

"Boy, you are pitiful. Get over your grandmother's death already. She's watching you waste your life away at this very second, you know."

"How do you know she didn't take her dementia to heaven with her?"

"That's not how the heavens operate, cretin!"

I laugh at his remark.

"The heavens had better been treating her well, then."

"Of course they are. It's what you failed to do, garbage!"

With that, Guan Yu walks into the pitch-black kitchen before fading away into the void. A trash bin of similar height materializes in his place.

"What's happening?"

I finish the last of my rice then look inside it, where I find a medicinal bottle full of pills. Meanwhile, my head twinges. It trembles with great pain, with the force of a great typhoon as vivid evocations trickle their way back to my mind.