Chapter Two: The Conspiracy of the Experiment: Escaping the Truman Trap

 Only I was deceived, like a fool, believing I could escape this mountainous region and soar into my own sky, only to discover it was merely a grand Truman show. Seeing the barrage growing impatient, my sister was dismissed as a low-quality product, uninteresting; indeed, the impoverished are evidently unworthy of virtue. The disabled woman seemed to receive instructions, lying on the ground, writhing, attempting to morally manipulate me. Young people nowadays lack conscience, unwilling even to provide fare. How will I return home? My three-year-old son is crying for his mother. The woman's voice attracted unsuspecting passersby, who pointed fingers at me, accusing me of disrupting public order, causing a scene in broad daylight. Unperturbed, I calmly dialed the police emergency number in the public phone booth, thankful that calls are free everywhere, for I must report this fraud. The woman, pretending to be disabled, hesitated, and the barrage ceased. A moment later, someone frantically flooded the screen with messages, insinuating insanity, questioning the need to involve the police. Is this real? How did my sister find out? Curiosity abounds. Until the police dispatched officers, the disabled woman finally reacted, attempting to flee. Once bold and assertive, she now wore a pleading expression, her speech devoid of accents. "Friend, please let me go. We have no grievances; there's no need to involve the authorities." Yet, with silver handcuffs clasping her hands, the woman's legs miraculously regained their function. Curious, the police officer asked how I had discerned the truth. After exchanging pleasantries, I politely explained that though he spoke our local dialect, his tone was completely off, as if improvised. A disabled person with a limp typically carries a crutch for ease of movement, as the exertion on each foot varies, resulting in differential wear on the soles of their shoes. A dimple formed at the corner of my mouth as I smiled. In conclusion, the most crucial detail is that the disability certificate should bear the official seal of the China Disabled Persons' Federation. The police officer suddenly enlightened, lavishing praise on my vigilance. Even the silent barrage, usually as quiet as a mouse, now stirred. My, doesn't he look so articulate and handsome? Surely, my sister must excel academically? She's also adorable when she smiles. If only her skin were a bit fairer, she'd be identical to my sister. Furthermore, upon comparison, suddenly my sister seems foolish. Who in their right mind would hand over their entire wallet to a stranger? The barrage now overwhelmingly sided with me, and I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I wouldn't have to relive the pains of my past life. Yet, my sister's fans suddenly became excited, venting their malice online. He's in trouble now. It seems the overseers of this experiment disagree with the results and intend to add the world. This time, my sister surely won't pass. As I read the barrage, I held my breath, pondering why there was such a vast difference in our treatment as siblings by the same mother. In my past life, she hastily deemed me as malicious due to this experiment, believing there was no need for salvation. Ceasing the monthly allowance of a thousand yuan to my foster parents, I was blindfolded, bound with hemp ropes, and delivered to the village where the official husband who had previously killed his wife awaited. I remember it was my birthday that day; the village broadcast was still playing the birthday wishes my mother had sent to my sister. To celebrate her coming of age, she sang "Happy Birthday" in over a dozen languages on global broadcast channels. Meanwhile, I was pinned to a cold grass mat, fists raining down on me in pain until I could no longer hear the words, "Happy birthday, my darling, Mom loves you." For a fleeting moment, my heart felt sour, and I considered confronting that cold-hearted woman in the city. In the next moment, I saw the crowd at the station suddenly swell, strangers adorned with sleek laboratory armbands converging on me from all directions, blocking my path to the station gate. Someone wondered if my sister was planning to escape. He scrutinized the ticket for a long time. Perhaps she is, but where could she go? The lab staff will bring her back. Lowering my eyes, I embarked on the journey home, expressionless, realizing I couldn't run, at least not so defenselessly. One day, I will openly seize my freedom. Due to returning home late, I endured a beating, with salt-soaked willow branches lashing my scarred back. After the second beating, I caught my breath, my demeanor suddenly unnatural. The eldest son next door is bringing home a bride tomorrow; you'll need to help watch. The audience, initially unable to bear the sight, suddenly became spirited. My sister's courtship is here, and this time, it's said to be particularly challenging.