Mastering the Sword Manual, sweeping across the globe

He is thirty-five or thirty-six years old, doesn't talk much, and is steady in his work.

He sat there, clutching the bottle of mineral water in both hands, so tightly that the bottle was dented.

"The night before last... I had a dream."

Chen Juefei's heart skipped a beat.

"In my dream, I was delivering takeout."

"I don't remember how long I ran. I just kept running and running. Picking up food, delivering food, picking up food, delivering food. The sun rose and the sun set, and I kept running."

"After waking up, I couldn't remember anything specific. I didn't remember where I was running, what orders I delivered, or who I met."

He looked at Director Fang with an indescribable look in his eyes.

"But I remember that exhaustion. It was the kind of exhaustion that seeped into your bones, an exhaustion that you just couldn't get over. Even now, sitting here, I still feel tired."

Director Fang nodded and wrote a few words in his notebook.

"Okay. Next."

The next one is from the operations department, surnamed Sun, P8.

Sun Yang's experience is similar to Liu Tao's.

I dreamt that I became a delivery rider and ran for a very long time. When I woke up, I couldn't remember anything except that I was tired.

“It’s not just being tired.” Sun Yang thought for a moment and then added, “There’s also that… that feeling of not being able to breathe. It’s that feeling of not being able to breathe when you know you have to run tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and you keep running and never reach the end.”

Director Fang nodded again and continued writing.

The third one is from headquarters, specifically the finance department.

Zhao Mingyuan didn't speak directly. He took out his phone, tapped a few times, and found a recording.

"This is a recording of my consultation with a psychologist this morning."

The recording has started playing.

"...Yes, it's food delivery. I get up at 5:20 every morning and don't get back until after 11 p.m. I don't take a lunch break; I just squat by the roadside and eat steamed buns..."

"The most tiring part isn't running, it's waiting. Waiting for orders, waiting for food, waiting at red lights. And you can't rest while waiting, because you don't know when the next order will come, and when it does, you have to run..."

"...There was one order I delivered six times. The first time no one was there, the second time still no one was there, the third time... I later found out the address was wrong. I searched for six hours before finally finding the right place. When I knocked on the door, the person inside said, 'Why are you so late? It's all cold.'"

Recording has ended.

Zhao Mingyuan put away his phone and looked at Director Fang.

“I don’t remember any of that now,” he said. “I only remember being tired, and that feeling of… that I could never finish running.”

Director Fang nodded again and made a few notes in his notebook.

the fourth.

the fifth.

sixth.

Let's go through them one by one.

Everyone's experience is pretty much the same.

I dreamt that I became a delivery rider and ran for a very long time. When I woke up, I couldn't remember anything, only feeling tired and heavy.

But everyone's description is different.

Some people remember "the feeling of squatting by the roadside eating cold steamed buns".

Some people remember "the coolness of rainwater flowing into their collar on rainy days".

Some remember, "My knees hurt so much that I couldn't sleep."

Some people remember "the disgusting feeling of spittle spraying onto their faces when customers were cursing."

Some remember "returning to the station late at night, looking at the string of numbers on the phone screen, feeling that emptiness, not knowing what to do tomorrow."

As Chen Juefei listened, his palms began to sweat.

it's the same.

They are all different.

But the kernel is the same thing.

……

The next one was also from the sales line, surnamed Qian, and in his early forties.

This is P9.

Qian Mingyuan braced his hands on the table, not to sit up straight, but to prevent himself from sliding directly under the table.

"I'm not as lucky as my colleagues; I've almost forgotten everything."

“I also delivered food all night,” he said with a wry smile, glancing around the conference room. “However, unlike everyone else, in my dream, I only delivered one order.”

Everyone in the conference room looked up.

"The order is in a building with an elevator."

"When I arrived, there was a sign at the elevator entrance that read, 'Elevator under maintenance, temporarily out of service.'"

"A customer called down and said, 'I'm so sorry, the elevator is broken. Could you please bring it up? I'll send you a red envelope.' I said, 'It's no trouble. Which floor?' He said, 'I'm really sorry, it's the top floor...' and then said, 'I'll definitely send you a big red envelope.'"

"I said okay."

"Then I started climbing the stairs."

-

One floor. Two floors. Three floors.

The stairwell was ordinary. Grayish-white walls, cement steps, and a small window at the corner letting in a little light. He carried his takeout in one hand and held onto the railing with the other, climbing up step by step.

Fourth floor. Fifth floor. Sixth floor.

When he reached the sixth floor, he thought, "This red envelope is a bit hard to earn."

Seventh floor. Eighth floor. Ninth floor.

When he reached the ninth floor, his legs started to ache. He changed his position, switched the takeout from his left hand to his right, and continued climbing.

Tenth floor. Eleventh floor. Twelfth floor...

Sixteen floors.

He stopped and leaned against the wall, panting.

My legs started shaking, and my calves were twitching.

He placed the takeout on the steps, squatted down, and rubbed his legs. The takeout was still warm, and there was condensation inside the plastic bag.

He stood up, picked up the takeout, and continued climbing.

Twenty-five floors.

The stairwell has always been the same: gray walls, cement steps, a small window at the corner, and the light coming in is always the same brightness.

Fifty floors.

My legs are not just shaking anymore; my thighs and calves hurt, and my knees feel like they're stuffed with sand, making every step I take feel painful.

He held onto the railing with one hand and carried the takeout in the other, slowly making his way up the stairs.

Eighty floors.

He stopped to catch his breath, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. His heart was pounding, so hard it made his ears ring. Sweat streamed down his forehead, stinging his eyes. He wiped it with his sleeve, opened his eyes, and saw the same stairwell, the same steps leading uphill.

The signs in the stairwell slowly changed, eventually becoming 120 floors.

He stopped counting.

He just climbed. He climbed floor by floor. The stairs always went up, the steps were always the same, and there was always a small window at the corner, the light coming in always the same. He just kept climbing, and climbing, and climbing.

Two hundred floors.

He didn't know how long he had been climbing. It could have been hours, it could have been days. There was no time in the stairwell, no day or night, it was always the same, always going uphill.

Four hundred floors.

The stairs are beneath your feet, always beneath your feet, always going up.

Six hundred floors.

One thousand floors.

-

Qian Mingyuan paused for a moment after saying this.

No one spoke in the meeting room.

He continued.

-

After the thousandth floor, he stopped thinking about it.

Since I've taken this job, then this is my job, my destiny.

Two thousand floors.

Four thousand layers.

Seven thousand floors.

Ten thousand floors.

100,000 floors...

……

……

……

-

The meeting room was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat.

After a long pause, Director Fang finally spoke: "And then?"

Qian Mingyuan looked at him.

"Later, I finally climbed to the top floor."

"That is……"

At this point, Qian Mingyuan's lips twitched upwards, but stopped halfway through, as if he couldn't pull any further.

"...3.6 million floors."

When he said the number, Qian Mingyuan's voice was very soft.

It was so soft it was as if it wasn't speaking, but just exhaling a breath.

-

This dream is clearly not the first time it has been mentioned.

Director Fang glanced at the assistant next to him who was in charge of taking notes.

The assistant unfolded a document in his hand:

"According to the platform's statistics, an average rider delivers about 30 orders a day, climbing 5-8 floors per order on average—taking the midpoint of 6.5 floors, that's about 195 floors a day."

"I work 300 days a year and climb about 6 floors a year."

"If there are no holidays throughout the year, then the total number of floors climbed over five years..."

"It has approximately 360,000 floors."

"This stairwell, Director Qian..."

"I've been climbing for fifty years."

77 Five million