653: Chapter 642 653: Chapter 642 “You’re saying you despise your brother?” Song Yun raised his eyebrows and asked.
“Well, not exactly, but the privilege is so rampant nowadays that it’s a bit…
how should I put it, hard to stomach,” Song Yuxue said.
“Look at it this way,” Song Yun reached out and patted Song Yuxue’s head, “this world has always been made up of only two classes, those with privilege and those without.
It’s been like this since ancient times, both domestically and abroad.
Don’t say there aren’t any in the United States or Europe.
I’ve mixed with people abroad for so many years, I’ve seen plenty of the privileged class.
They just have deeper roots and are better at playing the privilege game than we are.
Unlike us, there are always those who act like nouveau riche, wanting to lord over everyone else, insisting on VIP access even to take a leak, needing a VIP room as if failing to do so wouldn’t show off their privileges.”
“Privileges…
have they really existed since ancient times?” Song Yuxue asked.
“Of course, the scholar-officials and imperial power of ancient times were the privileged class.
Although we now talk about equality for all, that’s just for the general public to hear.
Without privilege, who would be motivated to keep climbing the ladder?” Song Yun explained.
“But this can’t be that widespread, can it?” Song Yuxue said.
“It is widespread.
Nowadays, the most common thing is privilege.
Like us now, we have the best seats and don’t have to wait.
That’s privilege.
A simple example is having someone hold an umbrella for you when it rains.
That’s a privilege.”
“Having someone hold an umbrella for you when it rains is a privilege?” Song Yuxue didn’t understand.
“How is it not a privilege?” Song Yun said.
“I just saw a news story not long ago.
During a school inspection, the students were lined up on the playground waiting for the leaders to speak.
When it started to rain, those on stage had umbrellas held for them while the elementary school children below were soaked.
Sure, the ‘flowers of the motherland’ need the nourishment of wind and rain, but it’s not a pleasant thing to see.”
“A person who can’t even hold their own umbrella talking about service, that’s truly laughable,” Song Yuxue said after hearing Song Yun’s words, suddenly feeling quite indignant.
“That’s…
all privilege,” Song Yun shook his head.
“If someone holds it for you, why bother doing it yourself?
Right!”
“But it can’t be like this!” Song Yuxue retorted angrily.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore; it’s annoying.” Song Yuxue huffed and turned her head away, no longer engaging with Song Yun.
“What’s gotten into you?
I’m just stating the facts.
Why else would people desperately climb upwards if not for some privilege?
If everyone’s equal, would you, sitting high and mighty, feel good sharing the same status as an idle beggar on the street corner who doesn’t try at all?
To put it nicely, privilege is just a motivation to keep moving forward.”
“Alright, let’s drop it and watch the match,” Song Yuxue clearly didn’t want to discuss the topic further with Song Yun and just watched the stage, not saying another word.
Song Yun shook his head helplessly.
For a child like Song Yuxue, who had grown up in the liberal atmosphere of a foreign country, the influence of the privileged class might not reach her.
But for Song Yun, who had made it on his own from a young age, the effects of the privileged class were deeply understood.
Like in elementary school, the children of those with a bit of power could sit in the front row.
Later, when it came to middle school exams, it was again those with power who had the privilege of choosing the best schools and classes.
The same went for high school and university.
While we were struggling to cross the so-called single-log bridge, some privileged people didn’t need to work hard or study much, and the doors to the university were already open for them.
Not to mention QH, BD, these schools.
As far as Song Yun knew, there were people who could get in without taking exams, which is also privilege.
In the past, when Song Yun encountered so-called privileges, he would despise and loathe them.
But when he realized that so-called privilege was all around him, Song Yun decisively chose another path.
Since others are privileged and so impressive, he made himself even more privileged and impressive.
Why fight with Gulang?
One reason was for his parents, but another was for himself—everyone likes the feeling of being able to call the shots.
Song Yun was no exception.
While Song Yun wasn’t one to bully the weak, the convenience and thrill that privilege brought were something he greatly enjoyed.
There’s a saying, “Life is like rape, if you can’t resist it, you might as well enjoy it.” And what Song Yun did wasn’t just enjoying it; he turned the tables and dominantly took control of life.
As the match was about to begin, in a high-rise suite not far from the provincial television station,
A man resembling Shen Yan watched the bright lights of the distant station with a somber expression.
Behind the man were several ordinary-looking individuals who would blend in unnoticed on the streets.
“My little brother, always a concern,” the man sighed and put the cigarette he was holding over the ashtray to rest.
He looked at the few men in front of him and said, “Mix in with the crowd later and do as you were instructed, understood?”
“Understood!” the men nodded in unison.
“After the job’s done, each will receive a hundred thousand.
Haha, there’s nothing more profitable than this nowadays,” the man laughed and said.
“Thank you, Mr.
Shen,” the leader seemed to chime in with a sycophantic smile.
“Right, off you go.
It’s starting soon,” said the man known as Mr.
Shen, waving his hand as his subordinates filed out of the room, leaving only one seemingly honest and loyal middle-aged man behind.
“Shen Bocheng, he is still your brother after all,” the middle-aged man said with a frown.
“Uncle Wu, don’t say that,” the man smiled as he stood up.
“I’m just teaching my little brother a lesson.
Some things, if they’re not meant for him, he shouldn’t even think about striving for it—it could hurt him.”
“Don’t let things get out of hand,” the middle-aged man sighed.
“I know that,” Shen Bocheng nodded.
“After all, this is our family’s event.
I won’t ruin it.”
“That’s good.
Do take care,” the middle-aged man said, then turned and left the room, while Shen Bocheng turned to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, eyes piercing, looking out towards the distant provincial station.