A Diary of Eighteen Years Cleared... (reproduced)

Today is May 8th, 18th, my eighteenth birthday.

At seven in the morning, the nucleic acid machine "dididi" rang. I get up and punch in as usual.

After trying several times, the nucleic acid machine did not recognize my face, so I had to open the "must have for life" and buy a new one.

Within a few seconds, there was movement in the pipe that received supplies at my house.

There are many pipes in my house, responsible for transmitting virus-related items, spraying disinfection spray, receiving fruits, vegetables, meat, eggs, milk, and other daily necessities...

The first two pipes are used the most frequently, and things are transmitted almost every day. It is said that the latest materials are used, and they will be replaced every few years, and they will never get stuck halfway. Unlike the other pipes, there was a rumbling in the wall for a while, but nothing came out. My dad often had to crawl in to get things, and it came out full of dirt.

For example, now, in five seconds, the new nucleic acid machine has arrived. It has been upgraded again, and it is now the fifteenth generation of Lotus.

I took a closer look and saw no difference except for a few more petals on the lotus, but the price was 30% more expensive than the previous generation.

I'm praying not to be discovered by my mom.

Luckily, my mom doesn't care about me now - a robot is coming to her door to check her period.

A few months ago, my mother declared for menopause. As long as it is officially certified, our family will no longer have to pay the only child fine. For so many years, because my parents were healthy and possessed reproductive functions, but did not respond to the call to have more children, they had to pay a hefty fine every month.

I walked over and patted the robot, and asked, "Is it replaced? Where's the big white who came to my house before?"

The robot ignored me.

Well, it looks like it doesn't have a chat function either.

In fact, except the robots that usually teach us the question and answer function, all the other robots I have come into contact with will only repeat one sentence: "Execute the order, please cooperate."

It is said that in history, people used to execute orders manually. However, these people were either rude or said things that should not have been said. They were easily caught by recordings. So the official mass production of many such robots. What's the use of you and a robot who can only speak one sentence, no matter how much you justify, cry, reason and lose your temper?

During dinner in the evening, my dad pulled out a cake like a conjuration and said to me, "Today is your eighteenth birthday. Eighteen years old means that you are an adult from today, and it means that you will be an adult in the future. Learn to be responsible for yourself and contribute to society..."

My mother looked horrified: "Are you shopping on the black market again?"

"Eighteen is an important day, and I just want to give my children a decent birthday. When we were young, the school would hold a coming-of-age ceremony for us, and our family and friends would give us gifts. Look at their generation of children. , how can a birthday still look like a birthday..."

"One generation has its own way of living. If you want to eat cake on your birthday, they have to eat cake in this generation?"

My dad is always like this.

He is an old-fashioned old man who is gloomy every day, and he has to mutter a few words every now and then, "In our time, life was much better than this..."

My mother and I just pretended not to hear and ate with our heads down.

My dad read a few words to himself, lowered his head and said nothing, then shook his head sadly.

In the past, my mother would interrupt and educate him: "How many times have I said it, don't say anything that shouldn't be said, what's the use of thinking about the past? The past will not come back."

She didn't let my dad talk at home, so my dad went to social media to express his emotions and reminisce about the past.

He expressed his mind directly. Netizens saw the name of the community on the IP territory and left a lot of cynical comments:

"Coffee Market Renaissance?"

"I checked, your community is old and broken, can you afford coffee? Don't join in the fun."

That time, my dad disappeared from our lives for two weeks.

When he came back, he was what he is now, thin and always frowning.

My mom asked him what happened? He shook his head sadly, "I can't say it, I signed it, I can't say it."

The year I was born was the first year of zero.

It is said that before my mother gave birth to me, my father was declared "positive" and locked in the cabin, and she was alone in the family.

People from the neighborhood committee came and said that they didn't go out unless it was necessary. Hospitals are too risky. If you go out and get infected, if you come back and infect everyone, we will not be able to meet the target. We have a military order.

My mother tried her best to laugh at them and shouted: You won't let me go to the hospital, are you delivering me now? ?

The neighborhood committee said, how do you prove that you are going to give birth?

My mother gritted her teeth and continued to yell, don't you have eyes? ! Don't you see the amniotic fluid on the ground? !

In the end, my mother signed an agreement that once she left the community, she would never go home until the lockdown was lifted, and finally got the certificate to leave the house.

At that time, no one could have imagined that the word "unblocking" has never appeared on the news since then.

At the same time, my dad was in a hurry in the square cabin. He had been in the dark for several days, and he didn't let him go home. There were too many people out of the cabin and Fuyang at that time, which seriously affected the battle to clear the zero. A group of people who understand virus data best in the country sat together to study it and set a policy, "If you don't answer it, you won't answer it."

Well, he could only protest by knocking on the washbasin in the square cabin, but no one noticed him, someone in the next two rows was playing badminton, and the other side was dancing square dancing, and the sound was "Today is a good day, my heart." You can do anything you want!"

Fortunately, my mother had already prepared herself to give birth alone.

What worries her the most is not that my dad is absent, but that the maternity bags, milk powder, and diapers she bought are all stuck in the "to be received" column of a thing called "Taobao". She said that it would have been delivered the next day after placing the order, but who knew it took more than a month.

I haven't seen that thing. From the time I was sensible, I knew that "if you buy things, you should go to the 'must-haves' for life". There are all the things you need in daily life. After two weeks of placing the order, the materials of each household will pass Distribution pipeline to home.

I don't believe that anything can be delivered the next day - of course, except for the nucleic acid machine, it is more necessary than life. In my dad's words, that's the only thing life needs.

Grandma comforted my mother, it's all right! When I gave birth to you, I didn't have a maternity bag or wet diapers. You go back and cut the sheets. It's the same, as long as it works...

My mother was clutching at the pole of the hospital bed, her eyes were bloodshot.

She asked the grandmother in the video over and over again: Why? Why? Why? ...

Grandma can't answer, I'm still in my mother's womb, and I can't answer.

It is said that this is the reason why my parents would rather pay the fine and have only one child of me.

Congrats to them, I turned 18 today, and my mother finally received a notice confirming menopause after multiple inspections and reviews, and they finally don't have to pay fines.

My mother was already asleep at two in the middle of the night. I followed my dad's instructions and climbed into the opening of the pipe. After a lot of twists and turns, I found the pipe that my dad said was "not the same as the others", got out of it smoothly, and climbed over the wall.

Although the gate is heavily guarded and there are many robots guarding it, the back wall of the community has long been abandoned and no one pays attention.

This is what my dad told me secretly. He said that many people have long since forgotten or forgotten that people can actually go out.

He also said, today you are eighteen years old, go out and see the world.

When he said this, he gave me a deep look.

My dad always told me that this is a beautiful and romantic city. In the city, there are blocks full of plane trees (what kind of trees are plane trees?), and there are many mottled and beautiful old houses full of stories (what stories? What kind of room is it?), a convenience store that sings as soon as you walk in the door (what is a convenience store?), and men and women dressed in fashionable fashion posing on the street (I heard that this is how he approached my mother).

People affectionately call it the magic capital.

I suspect my dad is lying to me.

The street is very deserted. As far as I can see, all I can see is the pipes, the pipes that bring us supplies, the endless, intertwined pipes. They occupied the city as if they were the real masters of the city, dyeing it a grayish color.

I thought to myself, did my dad let me run out just to see a bunch of dark pipes?

bored to death.

What "magic capital", isn't this just a big room?

I want to go home.