Please Let Me Fail

Chapter One: The Eccentric System

Shi Bai longed for success.

He craved it like a caterpillar dreams of turning into a moth. He yearned for it like a kernel of corn jittering on a hot pan, desperate to burst into popcorn. He wanted it as fiercely as a toy poodle catching sight of a female dog.

He often wished he were a “gong”—for then, all he'd need was to add a little “li” to achieve “success.” But life seldom goes as one hopes. In his twenty-eight, nearly twenty-nine years, Shi Bai had almost never succeeded at anything.

As a baby, he would either choke or gag on his milk. When learning to walk, he stumbled at every step; when learning to eat, all his food ended up on the table. Other children called out “Mama” at one or two years old—he, at four, managed only “Uncle Wang” as his first words. Ever since, his father's gaze toward him had been peculiar.

He finally made it to elementary school, but his exam results were always thirtieth or thirty-first in class. To be honest, he might as well have been dead last; at least that’s a kind of first. But his ranking, even at the bottom, couldn’t break the top twenty.

He lost every fight, couldn’t out-argue anyone, always kicked the soccer ball into the crossbar, never made a basketball shot, and never once succeeded in wooing a girl.

He confessed to one girl—she said she already liked someone else. He tried with another—she apologized, telling him he was a good person. He persisted—she said, “Sorry, I’m still young and want to focus on my studies.” But the very next day, she