Taishan and the Cat
I began accompanying people climbing Mount Tai on a foggy morning. To be precise, it wasn't "accompanying," it was "being accompanied." I stood at the exit of the Nantianmen cable car station, like a forgotten piece of luggage, waiting for the next lonely soul.
Li Ming awoke from a state of chaos and habitually glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand: 7:00. Outside the window, it was dim and gray, as if covered by a perpetually dirty rag. His building was always like this, shrouded in perpetual gloom.
I awaken to find myself in a vast labyrinth made of numbers. The walls shimmer with a cold fluorescence, constantly scrolling with various data: GDP, CPI, PMI… All of it revolves around a core number: 5%.
"5%," a voice echoes in my ear, low and mechanical, "This is the growth target for this year. You must find the path to 5%."