The Lonely Life

The Little Master had been quiet for a while, but why did he suddenly reappear this time? Because this time is special.

In the afternoon, the Little Master was sunbathing on the balcony, bored of watching the crowd that the goddess recommended a few days ago, so he brushed it off and saw that the goddess was online, and they chatted for a bit.

Originally, the Little Master didn’t expect the goddess to respond to every message so quickly.

In theory, the Little Master should be very happy, but he instinctively felt a chill - it was too unusual.

Cautiously, he tested the waters:

Got a raise?

No.

Got promoted?

Fell in love? Just as the Little Master was about to hit send on this message, the goddess automatically told him this good news.

The Little Master’s vision went black, and he almost fainted.

Reality is always cruel, and often full of drama.

Just as the gap was about to end, the Little Master was already planning how his future would be, when he was harshly slapped in the face.

And history always has surprising similarities. At this time last year, the Little Master had suffered a blow no less disastrous than it is now.

According to some principle (I forgot, but it’s roughly about emotions coming from the lizard brain, without passing through the human neocortex, so in non-life-threatening situations, instant feelings are often harmful judgments), the Little Master took a deep breath for 10 seconds, and then…

Masking the bleeding pain in his heart, he made a phone call, chatted casually, and even remembered to wish them happiness in the end.

He didn’t mention what he truly thought in his heart.

After hanging up the phone, looking at the carefully prepared gift, the Little Master was filled with sadness.

Is this the rhythm of a lonely life destined to be?

Translated by gpt-3.5-turbo