On May 6, 2024, it was announced that the "Healthy Shandong Service Account" would be discontinued. This account had served as a platform for the dissemination of information on the COVID-19 pandemic and the operation of Shandong Province's electronic health code.
Those lost three years, just like this account, were wiped away with a single government document or even a verbal notice.
They have no memory, but I do.
I will not forget the memories of those three years.
In early 2020, during the winter break of my first year of high school, between the end of the final exams and the start of the official winter break, I had already completed all the tasks for the break. However, as the campus reopened in May, those assignments were no longer mentioned.
On the eve of the Spring Festival, during a family gathering, people were discussing the raging epidemic in Wuhan. No one would believe that this epidemic would spiral out of control under the great, glorious, and correct leadership of the government. But even with doubts about its extent, my mother firmly prevented me from taking the high-speed train to travel to neighboring cities. She knew well that although our local area was unaffected, precautionary measures were essential.
In a slight state of anxiety, we spent the Spring Festival. Family members returned home from Hong Kong, Beijing, and other places, and we had a big dinner together before immediately returning to their respective cities. A well-informed elder pointed out that "special epidemic prevention measures" would be implemented next, and if we didn't return immediately, we might be trapped here.
On the second day of the Lunar New Year, the expected chemistry Olympiad training camp was abruptly canceled due to epidemic prevention policies. On the fourth day, while discussing possible policy adjustments in an online group chat, the school administration suddenly announced that we should "prepare for temporary online classes." Subsequently, the textbooks for the second semester were delivered in bulk to our homes. I set up my study room and prepared for the upcoming "online classes" that I had never experienced before.
On February 2nd, the debut of online classes seemed somewhat primitive. At that time, the school had not yet fully adopted modern tools like DingTalk or Tencent Meeting, so the teachers could only host classes using "QQ group live streaming" and "QQ group voice chat."
"QQ group live streaming" is a live streaming function within a group, similar to other platforms' live streaming. The list of viewers is not fully displayed, and viewers can give "gifts" to the "host" (i.e., the teacher). Faced with familiar teachers and unfamiliar platforms, most students were particularly excited and kept sending cheap gifts to the teachers—I wonder how much income the teachers made from these live streams. After about a week of online classes, "QQ group classrooms" were hastily launched, removing the gift function and only retaining live streaming. "QQ group voice chat" is similar to the voice chat function on other platforms and has nothing special.
Since Tencent Meeting had not been introduced yet, we enjoyed a certain degree of privacy during online classes. We didn't need to turn on the camera and only needed to open the microphone when asked a question, creating a relaxed atmosphere in the classroom. During class, we enthusiastically communicated in our respective class and grade groups, as if having private discussions in a real classroom. I posted a message in the group saying, "We have successfully imitated the lively private conversations in class," and received reposts from half of the classmates.
One day, while browsing the short videos on "Island City Lao Ba," I was unexpectedly called upon to answer a question. In that moment of surprise, I quickly grabbed the microphone of my computer to prepare for a response, but accidentally forgot to pause the video playing on my phone. As a result, all the online classmates unintentionally shared the sound of "No worries about three meals a day, today I'll have Lao Ba's special mini burgers."
Our assignments were given and submitted online. Due to the involvement of simplified Chinese internet "sensitive content" in the political assignments, QQ prompted a "security check failed" and prohibited the download. In addition, some students became lazy and copied segments from others' assignments in an attempt to pass off as their own work. However, in their haste, they neglected to remove the name labels, exposing the truth. The teachers reported these behaviors in the large group.
During this period, although epidemic prevention measures were continuously tightened, we still had relatively free movement. In the early hours of March 10th, before the faint light of dawn faded, we witnessed an astronomical spectacle—the supermoon. With a close friend from my neighborhood who also attended the same primary school, we eagerly climbed to the rooftop to capture the bright and radiant moon, as if holding the beauty of the celestial body high in the deep purple sky.
The next day, I broke up with my girlfriend at the time after an argument. Fortunately, this cloud gradually dissipated with the mediation of our four close friends. After much contemplation and emotional communication, we eventually reconciled. However, the QQ symbol that lit up daily through our interactions was extinguished midway due to this argument.
During this time, my girlfriend and I changed our couple avatars multiple times during online classes. Initially, it was a cartoon hamster picture, and later we switched to selfies with each other's hair tied up in a bun. Many teachers discovered our relationship at this time and privately messaged us, gossiping and expressing their support for us as a couple (using today's language, "shipping" us), but also hoping that we wouldn't neglect our studies due to excessive flirting. After watching the anime series "ID: INVADED" together, we even changed our couple avatar to a screenshot of "Don Go" from the show.
During class, no one supervised us, so we could freely engage in activities we loved. My girlfriend and I used the streaming platform to catch up on a large number of anime series (according to Bilibili's 2020 annual report, I surpassed 99.7% of users). This included "Initial D" and "JoJo's Bizarre Adventure," among others. At the same time, we immersed ourselves in watching classic films, completing all the films directed by Alfred Hitchcock and Stanley Kubrick, as well as many of Charlie Chaplin's films and numerous masterpieces from the IMDb Top 250 list.
Feeling bored at home, I started to try my hand at running a personal media account. The Zhihu account and the main Bilibili account I managed both reached 10k followers and 23k subscribers, respectively—before being banned one after another due to touching on "sensitive topics." On my Bilibili account, mainly used for watching movies, I uploaded some music-related articles and videos, and the number of followers reached around 1k. However, due to long periods of inactivity, it has now dropped to around 700.
In April, the school switched to using Tencent Meeting for online classes. We were required to turn on our cameras, but this still didn't affect our ability to slack off during class. At this time, rumors spread that we would soon return to school, but we immediately received a notice from the school administration dispelling the rumors and announcing that online monthly exams would be held at the end of April. Many students cheated extensively during these exams using the internet. The school rankings were exaggerated, and students who were originally at the bottom suddenly jumped into the top 10%, sparking intense discussions among us. Afterwards, I participated in THUSSAT organized by Tsinghua University and achieved a top ten score. At that time, my learning performance had not yet declined due to psychological problems.
In May, Bilibili released a video titled "The Next Wave," which sparked heated discussions online. On May 6th, I reposted a comment from the internet: "You liked 'The Next Wave,' and I promoted 'Entering the Gate.' He filmed 'Non-Wave.' We are all promising young people of the new era." Thinking back to the time since the epidemic, the once widely acclaimed "Entering the Gate" now seemed lifeless, which felt ridiculous.
The day before school started, I broke up with my girlfriend, which became the catalyst for my ongoing psychological problems.
Attached to the article is a short poem by Jiang Ruijin:
"I Know You Have Nowhere to Rely On"#
Jiang Ruijin
I know you have nowhere to rely on
Like a tree in the wilderness
Swaying in the storm
I know you have nowhere to rely on
Like a fish in scorching sun
Flipping and jumping in the riverbed
No one knows
No one knows
When the sun will rise
When the flood will come
Yesterday won't
Today won't
Maybe tomorrow will know
Suddenly seeing a tree from yesterday
Growing in the forest of yesterday
Bathing in the morning sun
Suddenly seeing a fish from yesterday
The river is full
Leaping upward
Ha, all illusory appearances
Beautiful things that easily lead people astray
Better to look forward to tomorrow
Before the future of tomorrow arrives
Burn passionately
This article is also updated on xLog by Mix Space. The original link is https://nishikori.tech/notes/37