Clown Game
Chapter 312 - 299: Doubt

Chapter 312: Chapter 299: Doubt

The city immediately became irritating after the rain, with streams of cars surging, splashing water and curses from the sidewalk, and the lingering smell of last night’s vomiting in the alleys. The afterglow of the sunset added no color to these tired streets, only noise, which was somehow indifferent.

As usual, the factory on the edge of the small town had delayed the end of the workday again.

"Fuck the rain!"

"Fuck overtime!"

"Fuck this world!!!"

No one could keep their cool and not curse under such hellish weather while being exploited by the boss, except for him. So, as the workers just stepped out of the door, they swore unabashedly, not caring whether their superiors could hear. In fact, even the bosses themselves didn’t care, knowing how obnoxious they were and reveling in it. He also knew that these people might curse him, but they would never quit.

That’s just how the world is.

In the midst of this group, only one person seemed out of sync with the agitated atmosphere.

That was Bai Xiong. He was the one who could hold back from cursing, or rather, he didn’t want to, didn’t care, or perhaps couldn’t muster such strong emotions.

In any case, he always remained this quiet—if it weren’t for his overly imposing stature, he would almost go unnoticed.

...

It had always been like this for the many years he worked at the factory.

...

As the wind picked up,

Bai Xiong pulled up his collar, trying to fend off the cold wind and moisture. The crowd outside the bus was packed tight, like clogged arteries. Bai Xiong sighed and decided to walk home.

"It’s only four stops away, maybe walking would be faster. Hopefully, I won’t run into that hobo again."

Thinking this, his footsteps echoed between the gloomy buildings like heavy, despondent moans, rendering everything a bit surreal.

Forward

One street...

Two streets...

At the corner of the third street, Bai Xiong deliberately slowed his pace. He peeked tentatively to one side at the edge of a rundown apartment building.

"Hey!"

He sighed again.

As expected, that strange hobo was still there.

He was there every day, propped against the corner wall, motionless, seemingly without eating or drinking, because every time Bai Xiong saw him, he was in the same position, as if he had never moved. If it weren’t for the fact that he always stared with his narrow eyes when Bai Xiong passed by, he would have thought the man was dead.

Bai Xiong did not like being stared at by him—it felt too bizarre, especially the man’s mouth, with two disgusting scars that made Bai Xiong’s dinner uneasy every night.

But what could he do? He was just a hobo. You couldn’t just beat someone up because you didn’t like the look of them, right? So, Bai Xiong could only shake his head helplessly and quickly pass by the corner.

"Look, that guy is staring at me again... Does he stare at everyone who passes by here, or just me? Annoying, but whatever, he’s just a crazy person..."

Bai Xiong withdrew his disdainful gaze and hurriedly disappeared around the other side of the building.

...

Five minutes later, Bai Xiong pushed open the door to his home.

"I’m back," he called out, just as he usually did.

From the kitchen, the clang of utensils came as usual, and the same familiar smells wafted through the air, without need for further thought, she must be, as always, wearing that ugly apron, cooking the same usual dishes.

For so many years, it had always been like this, with no changes... The world was just like that, and it would always continue to be!

Bai Xiong changed his shoes and tossed his briefcase onto the sofa.

At that moment, the kitchen door was also nudged open.

She walked out holding a plate.

Song Xuan... his wife, perhaps due to congenital deficiencies or poor absorption later in life, her body was exceptionally frail, like those who had laid in a sickbed for an extended time, eliciting sympathy from those who looked at her.

Bai Xiong could no longer remember why he had married Song Xuan; love? Or fate? It didn’t matter, he had never looked back on these questions, just like the food, it was all the same taste, eating it, that is, with nothing worth reminiscing, but it was also precisely because of this that life could go on.

"Did you run into that homeless man again?"

Song Xuan proficiently unfastened her apron and asked casually, thinking about it, though she seemed fragile, she was actually quite healthy, and fast at everything too. Bai Xiong remembered one time, he accidentally knocked a bowl off the table, and Song Xuan, with reflexes like a conditioned response, caught it swiftly. Bai Xiong was stunned at the time... and afterwards, Song Xuan was also a bit stunned; she said that she did not know what had come over her at that moment.

However, these were just some episodes in life.

"Yeah, still at that corner, the cat by the wall, I think he never moves. The day before yesterday I saw him in the same position, and a few days before that too. Doesn’t he need to go out and find food?" Bai Xiong muttered in bewilderment as he took a seat at the dining table.

"Maybe it’s just your imagination, who could really go without eating."

"Hmm... maybe his brain is not right, doesn’t know he’s hungry. That could explain why he keeps staring at me, maybe he’s just got that kind of condition," Bai Xiong seemed to want to stick to his view.

"Alright already, you’re so tall and big, it’s normal for people to stare at you, forget about him." Song Xuan certainly did not want to hear him rambling and handed him a bowl of rice: "At least you’re better off than him for now; you have food to eat."

Bai Xiong shrugged, "Okay, maybe I’m just being paranoid."

With that, he dropped the subject.

Eat, chat, sleep, wake up, work, get off work, eat... life just repeated itself, spit out page by page from a machine called living, sticking onto the endless timeline from birth to death, and people had accepted this setting. What else could they do, the world was like this.

Plain, happy... maybe this was happiness, but even if it wasn’t, what could be done about it.

Another day passed, and Bai Xiong lay in bed.

At night, the suffocating darkness made Bai Xiong uncertain if he was keeping his eyes open. Everything was so quiet it was unsettling; no wind, no insect sounds, if not for the faint breathing of Song Xuan next to him, he might have even thought he was dead.

The hustle and bustle of the day had been wiped clean all of a sudden, vanishing without a trace. However, he was not doubting anything, the night should be like this, everything was very normal...

Except for that street corner’s homeless man.

"Why did I think of him again!"

Bai Xiong chided himself with a touch of self-mockery, then turned over and went to sleep.