A few minutes later...
As Xiaoyun walked out of the house with a small book in hand, his mind was filled with questions that he had no answer for.
It was only thirty seconds of talk inside the house, lasting shorter than the time he waited inside for the old man to hand him a book in hand.
"The Revolution has not yet succeeded... I must carry it on... But what should I do to preserve it?"
Being confronted with politics made him a little uncomfortable. He knew it was unavoidable, but deep inside, he wanted to keep stalling it.
"Am I really going to upend myself?"
The inner question made him freeze for a fraction of a second. He stood still on the road, not caring about the outside world.
A decision was needed more than ever—an answer not just for himself but for everyone around him and the generation in the future.
The solution was right before his hand. But he was too afraid to open it up. He was no proletariat or hero, nor did he ever think of himself becoming one.
