84 posts tagged with "Society"

Old Liu has been working at his company for almost ten years. He hasn't been promoted, nor has he gotten a raise, but he has developed a "highway" on his hairline. He feels like a screw, fastened in some corner of a huge machine, humming monotonously day after day. Recently, the company launched a "skills certification," ostensibly to "improve the comprehensive quality of employees," but in reality, it was preparing for "downsizing and elimination."

Old Liu isn't worried. He's a Tsinghua master's graduate, a top scorer in the college entrance exam back in the day. He's confident that this certification will impress the leaders. However, the subjects of the certification are baffling: excavator operation, car repair, and cooking skills. Old Liu is dumbfounded. He majored in computer science, so he's good at coding, but wielding a wrench is beyond him.

Old Wang opened a lotus root cake shop in an urban village. It was small, just a fryer and two tables. His lotus root cakes were crispy and delicious, famous far and wide. Every evening, a long queue formed outside the shop, filled with the warmth of everyday life.

“蛇年春晚，一切蛇么都好！”这是总导演在动员大会上喊出的口号。老王作为道具组的小组长，被这口号震得虎躯一震。这蛇年，真是处处都透着一股子邪性。

The stage lights gradually dimmed, and the clamor of the Spring Festival Gala slowly dissipated. In the audience, scattered applause, like a faint tide, lapped at the edges of the enormous stage. Tonight, the most eye-catching were not the glamorous celebrities, but the row of precise and elegant robot dancers at the center of the stage.

They wore silver leotards, with joints that shimmered with a deep blue light. Every movement was the result of precise calculations, and every smile was as accurate as a ruler's markings. They completed their dance performance perfectly, cooperating seamlessly and flawlessly. The audience applauded their performance enthusiastically, as if they truly possessed souls.

Old Li set up his chess stall under the gazebo in the community park, relying on the small earnings to pass the time after retirement. The sun was nice today, and he had just set up when he saw a young woman pointing her phone at him, taking a barrage of photos.

"Grandpa, your chess stall is so creative!" the woman said with a giggle, revealing a row of even teeth.

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, the sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on the old wooden floor. A few coins and a crisp hundred-yuan bill lay scattered on the floor, gleaming brightly in the sunlight. I, a post-00s girl who had just turned twenty, was sitting on the floor, rubbing my sore knees.

Yesterday, I kowtowed 888 times.

The noise of the Spring Festival Gala hadn't completely faded, and the firecracker debris scattered around the neighborhood, like shattered dreams, reminded people that the New Year was passing. Li Mei rubbed her hands, red from the cold, and looked up at the red socks hanging on her balcony, the color resembling the red envelope her mother had given her.

Old Wang, a retired teacher in his fifties, had recently become obsessed with grabbing red envelopes. Not the kind of small change in WeChat groups, but a newly popular "immersive red envelope rain" in the city.

This red envelope rain requires wearing special AR glasses in a designated area to experience. When you put on the glasses, you see gold ingots and red envelopes flying all over the sky. Reach out and you can "grab" money, which is directly deposited into your electronic account. For this, Old Wang specially bought a new pair of AR glasses and also enrolled in a "digital life" training class for the elderly.

The clatter of keyboard clicks echoed in the empty office. It was New Year's Eve, and the occasional sounds of firecrackers outside made the office seem even more silent. Lao Zhang, a senior programmer, was staring at the dense code on the screen, his brow furrowed. He wasn't working overtime voluntarily, but rather "voluntarily compelled" – the company, in response to the call for "triple pay," had arranged for a group of people to work overtime on New Year's Eve, under the guise of "contributing to the country's information technology."

Lao Zhang stared at the variables on the screen, but his mind was calculating today's overtime pay. Triple pay! All in all, this year wouldn't be a waste. He rubbed his hands together and continued to type code. Although he couldn't smell the fragrance of the New Year's Eve dinner at home, the constantly updating numbers on the screen gave him a sense of comfort.

Old Wang stared at his phone screen, his finger hovering stiffly above the "Send" button. In the WeChat group, relatives and friends were sending New Year greetings with great enthusiasm, and various red envelopes flew across the screen. This year, he was chosen by his company to be the executor of the "New Year's Gift" event. To put it bluntly, it was to send digital red envelopes to clients and partners using the company's newly developed AI red envelope system.

"Brother Wang, it's time to send them!" said his colleague Xiao Li beside him, his tone laced with excitement. "This time, we're going to give users a 'surprise' and let everyone feel the power of technology!"