Koi in a Fish Tank

Old Liu was a gardener. His days were spent trimming lawns and watering plants, a life as monotonous as concrete. His greatest pleasure was keeping several koi in a large fish tank on his balcony.

The koi in that tank were the only color in Old Liu's life. They swished their tails, elegant and lazy, as if mocking his daily toil. Every time he changed the water for them, he felt like a captive fish himself, swimming in the narrow confines of his life. He often stared at the fish tank, as if he could see another world in the eyes of those fish. A world without the need to trim lawns, without the pressure of rent.

Recently, Old Liu had been feeling immense pressure. The landlord had raised the rent again, his daughter was going to college, and he worried about money every day. And the koi? They were always so carefree, just eating, drinking, and playing every day. Their patterns were vivid and vibrant, as if showing off their beauty.

One night, Old Liu couldn’t sleep again. He looked at the koi slowly swimming in the tank and suddenly felt a strange disgust. These guys were just too happy! Why? His mind was like a pile of dry wood catching fire, quickly igniting a black flame.

He picked up the insecticide from the corner, the one he used to deal with bugs in his potted plants. He looked at the nozzle of the insecticide and, as if possessed, aimed it at the fish tank. He felt as if he were carrying out some kind of sacred mission, to punish these "little people" who knew nothing of the world's suffering.

The next day, when the sun rose, all the koi in the fish tank were floating upside down, motionless. Old Liu looked at the fish corpses floating on the water, feeling no sense of pleasure, only numbness. It was as if he had used this can of insecticide to spray away a small piece of hope in his heart.

The police arrived quickly, taking him away. In the interrogation record, he truthfully confessed to his criminal act.

After Old Liu was locked up in the detention center, life didn't change much. It was still three meals a day, just in a different place. He often stared at the sky outside the window, and suddenly felt like a captive fish again, swimming in an even smaller world.

However, he discovered he seemed to have a new hobby, which was observing other inmates.

He found that everyone had their own story, like him, all pushed along by the invisible hand of life. Some were arrested for theft, some for fighting, and some for economic crimes. Everyone was like the koi he used to keep, with their own unique patterns. They ate, slept, worked, and waited for the unknown future.

They were also like the koi in the fish tank, locked in a transparent "fish tank". The difference was that this "fish tank" was bigger and colder. And he himself was once like the koi in a fish tank, just a "fish" being watched.

He suddenly understood a little, perhaps he was once seen as a "display fish", struggling in the depths of life, except those "viewers" didn't spray insecticide on him, but instead cast sympathetic glances, just like he had looked at the koi before.

Old Liu's days in the detention center passed one by one. He carefully completed his labor tasks every day, hoping to be released soon. He slowly understood that life was not just black, there was also a glimmer of hope, but sometimes, you need to look at it from a different perspective.

Until one day, a new prison guard came to the jail. He was tall and thin, wore wire-rimmed glasses, and was polite. Every day he would come to Old Liu's cell, give him a slight smile, then open a notebook and record all of Old Liu's behavior: how many bowls of rice he ate today, how long he worked today, and how long he stared out the window today.

Old Liu found it strange. One day, he finally couldn't help but ask the guard, "Why are you recording me?"

The guard pushed up his glasses and said blandly, "The higher-ups sent me to observe you, to see how you behave in prison. Don't worry, I will record everything about you."

Old Liu suddenly felt like he wasn't locked in a prison, but had returned to his fish tank. And this time, he was the fish being watched. He had a unique pattern, and those "viewers" were just like he was before, full of curiosity and scrutiny. He felt like a rare animal in a zoo, being observed by others every day. He began to hate this feeling, but was powerless to change it, because he had become the kind of person he once hated, only in a different position, a different role.

Old Liu looked up at the dim light bulb on the ceiling of the cell, as if seeing his former fish tank, and he was in the water, blowing bubbles, helplessly looking around.