I Became an All-round Artist

“The Death of a Small Civil Servant?”

When Wei Long saw the title, he subconsciously thought it was a mystery short story. Among the thirty writers submitting their work, there were quite a few mystery-themed short stories due to the open nature of the contest.

He clicked to open it.

Wei Long glanced at the word count and was stunned.

Eighteen hundred words?

He doubted his own eyes.

While short stories typically aren’t very long, and he had even advised Chu Kuang that shorter is better, to not make the story too long…

But this was too short! The entire story didn’t even reach two thousand words?

When I said "short," I meant between three thousand and five thousand words!

Did Chu Kuang misunderstand my suggestion, thinking the shorter the better?

If that misunderstanding affected the story's quality, Wei Long would feel truly guilty. He couldn't help but rub his forehead.

Better read the story first.

[It was an ordinary night. The small civil servant sat in the second row of the hall, watching a theatrical performance through binoculars. At this moment, he felt as if time had stopped, and everything was peaceful.]

Peaceful?

This was the first time Wei Long had encountered such a description, but somehow he instinctively understood the meaning of the word.

“Interesting choice of words.”

The next description was even more intriguing: [But suddenly, his face contorted, his eyes closed, his breathing stopped, and he lowered the binoculars and bent over...]

Did he just have a heart attack?

Was this the “death of the small civil servant”? A nameless small civil servant?

Wei Long was perplexed. It wasn’t until he read further that he realized the small civil servant had only sneezed.

"Pfft."

Looking back at the previous lines, the description perfectly captured the exaggerated way someone looks when sneezing. Chu Kuang's writing felt quirky but somehow precise, painting a vivid mental image for Wei Long of someone sneezing.

A sneeze is harmless, the civil servant thought. Everyone sneezes.

The worst outcome? A cold.

That’s what Wei Long assumed too.

But here came the twist: [The small civil servant started to panic because he noticed that the elderly man sitting in the front row was furiously wiping his bald head and neck with a glove, mumbling under his breath.]

Clearly, the sneeze had sprayed onto the old man.

And the small civil servant panicked because…

He recognized the old man as a retired general from some department!

“Is the general going to kill him?”

Wei Long couldn’t help but recall the title of the story.

Readers naturally try to predict what happens next.

But short stories rarely follow those predictions.

The small civil servant did the expected thing—he began to apologize.

However, the general didn’t explode in anger, as Wei Long had imagined. Instead, the general generously brushed it off.

“He must be pretending, right? Playing the part of the gracious general in public, but planning to take revenge later?”

That was Wei Long’s new theory.

And the small civil servant seemed to share that fear.

So, he apologized again, swearing it was truly unintentional.

The general, now slightly irritated, said: “Sigh, just sit down, please! Let me enjoy the performance!”

The general was upset, and the small civil servant became even more anxious.

He couldn’t focus on the performance at all.

During intermission, when the general went to the restroom, the small civil servant followed and apologized once more.

“Sigh, enough already... I’ve forgotten about it, but you won’t let it go!”

The general, finishing up in the restroom, buckled his belt with an impatient frown.

Wei Long realized, “So, the general really isn’t angry.”

Influenced by the title, Wei Long had expected the general to kill the small civil servant, but the general had repeatedly expressed forgiveness. He wasn’t someone who held grudges.

For the small civil servant, the sneeze was a false alarm.

Wei Long relaxed.

But the small civil servant didn’t.

His mind raced: [He said he’d forgotten, but I saw that glint in his eyes! And he’s not saying much... I should explain myself again. I didn’t mean it! Sneezing is just a natural thing. If I don’t explain, he’ll think I did it on purpose. Even if he doesn’t think that now, he will later!]

Such paranoia!

Wei Long found the small civil servant amusing.

At home, the small civil servant shared his distress with his wife, who was equally alarmed, advising him to apologize again.

He complained: “Exactly! I already apologized, but somehow, he seemed a bit odd, like he didn’t want to hear my explanation.”

He’s already forgiven you!

You’re overthinking this!

Wei Long laughed harder as the civil servant’s paranoia grew.

But the civil servant remained clueless, even donning his best uniform the next day and bringing a gift to the general’s house for yet another apology.

Imagine being the general.

Wei Long thought that if it were him being constantly followed by someone apologizing, he’d also be baffled.

The general was meeting an important guest, so the small civil servant had to wait until the meeting was over before apologizing again.

As before, the general expressed his forgiveness but couldn’t help but look frustrated.

"Frustrated."

That word hit Wei Long's funny bone.

Apologizing is polite, but when you have someone chasing you endlessly with apologies, anyone would feel frustrated!

Wei Long, now laughing uncontrollably, couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the general.

Despite the general’s visible frustration, the small civil servant took it as a sign that he hadn’t been forgiven.

To protect his career, the civil servant believed that the general was holding a grudge, so he continued to apologize.

He decided to write a heartfelt letter to explain everything.

But his mind went blank—he couldn’t even write a proper letter.

So, on the third day, he visited the general’s house once again to apologize.

The story ended abruptly.

With the civil servant’s repeated apologies, it concluded with an expected outcome.

[“Get out!” the general shouted, his face turning blue, his whole body trembling.]

[“What?” the small civil servant asked, terrified, his whole body shaking.]

[“Get out!” the general repeated, stomping his foot.]

[The small civil servant felt something stir inside him. He could no longer see or hear anything. He backed out the door and wandered the streets, aimlessly walking home. Without even removing his uniform, he collapsed on the couch… and died.]

[...]

Yes, the small civil servant died.

That’s the story behind the title The Death of a Small Civil Servant.

Through his relentless apologies, he had finally driven the general to anger, and in the end, the civil servant died from his own paranoia!

A story of just over a thousand words?

Not the mystery Wei Long had expected, nor the murder he had imagined. It was simply a story of a man scared to death by his own obsessive thoughts.

Despite the short length, the narrative was exaggerated to the extreme, yet still followed a certain logic, making it oddly satisfying to read!

At that moment, Wei Long was slapping his thigh in laughter, amazed that Chu Kuang had crafted such humor.

But halfway through his laughter, his expression froze, the scene pausing in his mind.

Like a shock of electricity coursing through his body, Wei Long suddenly stared wide-eyed in realization.

“Wait… this story…”

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