Everyone, please go to bed earlier.

Death comes in three types: when a person's heartbeat stops and breathing ceases, they are declared dead biologically; when their funeral is held and they no longer exist socially, that is social death; when the last person in the world who remembers the deceased forgets them, that is true death — the whole universe has no more relation to you.

As always I don't like Mondays, because the weekend just passed. These days my commute to work is over 60 km round trip, taking two hours a day. On my way to work I often run into some colleagues. I'm relatively quiet, but inside I'm more excited, counting how many times I've met them this week, at what time they usually arrive, comparing whether they were later today than yesterday? A counter starts in my mind...

I stroll in slowly and begin the repetitive office routine. In the morning I sent a colleague an expense; she usually handles expenses quickly, basically replying with “1” within 15 minutes to indicate receipt and completion. But today she didn't; she sent me something else: 'Can you check if this is correct?' That surprised me — you, usually so professional, couldn't possibly not know this...

The office in the morning is relatively quiet, much quieter than at noon — perhaps everyone just woke up and is tired — but one phone call stood out: 'Hello, what's up, the person still hasn't been found? ... Oh okay, call back later.' There were many words but I only heard a few phrases, and my mind started imagining: is it the boss's child or a relative being so naughty? Running away from home, not answering the phone, haha, must be some kid. I was also chatting with colleagues on QQ when suddenly one colleague said: 'It seems Maikeke（anonymous） didn't come today.' I then realized that earlier it wasn't that she was being unprofessional — it wasn't her at all.

But the ensuing conversations made people frown. They started calling frequently and searching everywhere. Given Maikeke's shy and reserved personality, it's unlikely she had been out drinking in a bar until she was smashed, or slept so long that she didn't answer calls. She's usually punctual. Maikeke is one of the people I often “count”; every week I calculate how many times we happen to meet, whether I arrived earlier or she did. But they couldn't find her, and my mind already filled with many possible explanations: maybe she accidentally muted her phone and didn't hear it, or maybe she was so tired in a deep sleep she didn't hear it...

Soon after, the supervisor suddenly ran out; the person on the phone said: 'No heartbeat.' The supervisor repeated in panic, 'No heartbeat??' Many people stood up, frowning. I was slacking on my phone; when I saw my senior manager stand up with a grave look, I thought he was going to check my phone, so I quietly put it away and turned off the screen. Someone then let out a long incredulous question. I moved closer and asked, 'What's wrong?' A colleague said: 'Maikeke didn't come today; I heard her heartbeat stopped...' Fuck, I was utterly shocked... I couldn't believe it, trembling in an instant. Is this real, is this a joke? Last Friday she was fine — how can she just be gone? Why?

All kinds of discussions started in the small group, and many sources of information began to spread. 'Called her parents this morning but they didn't pick up; she's out of town. Called her roommate to go check; when they opened the door, she already had no heartbeat.' 'The lights were all on when the door was opened, which suggests she didn't die in her sleep; she left before 11pm last night — it's been over ten hours.' 'Really? Fuck, is there still hope? If it had been in the morning maybe there would have been a chance.' ... A wave of sighs

I was deeply shocked and had a headache, trembling for a long time, getting goosebumps. I immediately went to the bathroom and started retching — not because of nausea but because the emotion reached a point where I felt sick. In the afternoon many peers came to ask, 'I heard a woman from your company passed away?' People from Shanghai, Tianjin, etc. — it's such a small circle, as if everyone knew in an instant. Even now I still can't believe it, but there's a rumor that she pulled an all-nighter playing the game 剑网3 and died suddenly. I think this rumor has a 95% credibility, and the source might be the roommate who opened the door. I knew she seldom played games, and the reason I knew was because in the elevator she was on the phone talking about 剑网3 — I thought it was impressive that a girl would play this old game...

I thought about it all afternoon and slowly calmed down, no longer trembling. I hope everyone rests and sleeps properly; please really don't pull all-nighters — they are very harmful to your body.

I also thought about death — someone who was still chatting in the group about working overtime on Saturday suddenly left like that. What exactly is death? Is it a sudden pitch blackness? Is it the soul rising and drifting away from the body to watch one's earthly self? Is it the blissful world depicted in 仙剑3? Or is it a void, passing through emptiness? Am I afraid of death? I don't seem especially afraid; I'm more afraid of leaving before my close ones, causing them pain because of me. Maybe when I have nothing left to hold me, I can face it normally. I used to be very afraid of death, afraid of losing family, but later I gradually opened that knot. In my belief, only “memory death” is true death — when no one in the world remembers you...

I really like visiting graves, once a year. Since I was small I was taken to the cemetery by my parents; I have only missed one year because of the pandemic, when I couldn't even walk and was carried up the hill. We kowtow and burn incense for ladies I've never met and can't read the inscriptions on the tombstones. Growing up, I went from hating the difficult walk to gradually seeing it as a form of inheritance. Someone who died in 1960 — 65 years ago now — still has descendants who remember her; every year they bring silver ingots, tinfoil, and qingtuan and a pile of offerings. We still remember her!

I've thought about it: I will continue the tomb-sweeping tradition. In the future I will definitely bring my son or daughter, and also my grandchildren, so they will remember the names of their ancestors and share the same surname. The two people in the grave were once young too; they once fell in love, dating with sweet talk not much different from ours. Imagining the past makes it feel less sad and makes me feel happy to be descendants of my parents, simply because we “remember”. The words on the sides of the tombstone, learned and understood after many years of reading, read: 'Don't ask for good feng shui, only ask for virtuous descendants!'