Middle age is really scary.

Afraid of the elevator—trapped on the 24th floor, calling for 15 minutes with no one responding.

Afraid of ride-hailing cabs—afraid the driver will doze off, speeding just short of hitting the guardrail, scaring me awake into chattering the whole way.

Afraid of riding the bus—stepping off and getting bumped by an old man who’s only worried about whether his e-bike is fine, while I’m the one asking him if he’s okay.

Afraid of the minibus—being dumped halfway and walking 30 minutes at night before a kind soul passed by.

Afraid of riding the subway, afraid of being groped by an auntie who keeps glancing at me on purpose or not.

Afraid of the plane—afraid the captain quarreled with his wife last night, afraid of typhoons, of storms, thunder and lightning.

Afraid of queuing at the hospital, alone till midnight, not allowed to leave while the doctor presses me to sign papers.

Afraid of taking on new cores or new projects, encountering people who collapse, whose hearts race, who vanish midway, crumbling at their desks—afraid of not having emergency heart pills on me.

Afraid of one word from the client that provokes my bottom line, making me throw my Samsung phone like a bomb.

Afraid of going above 5,000 meters in altitude, afraid of being abducted by aliens because I look too abstract, and finding I never wrote a will.

Afraid of my phone being permanently out of service, afraid of being too poor forever—what if I get sold off halfway.

In middle age, life carries many cares.

And so,

Settle some debts in advance.

Buy insurance for myself in advance.

Set aside college money for the kids in advance.

Save half a year’s money for the family in advance.

Pay social security and medical insurance quietly and dutifully.

Call the family once a week.

Don’t pretend to work hard,

Because the outcome won’t act along with you, nor will it live with you,

The gifts fate bestows were secretly priced long ago,

Going with fate…

Beijing /Beijing