84 posts tagged with "Society"

Before retirement, Lao Li was an accountant at a factory, adept at the abacus. After retiring, he became addicted to the internet. Not for news or chatting, but for enthusiastically “reconciling accounts” in various forums. Not really for money, but for the pleasure of precise, error-free numbers. He often said, "This world is full of fluff, only numbers are real."

Recently, he became engrossed in reconciling accounts with a group of American netizens. It began with several mysterious lists of goods, with a mix of items ranging from Chinese tea to American coffee, and prices in both RMB and USD, like a large global trade mystery box. Most of these netizens were Americans. Lao Li guessed they were probably from the finance industry, very sensitive to numbers.

On the eve of the Spring Festival, Lao Wang discovered a new app on his phone called "UnionPay Red Packet Rain." It was said that to celebrate the successful inscription of the Spring Festival as a World Heritage, UnionPay, in collaboration with various merchants, was distributing digital red packets in the sky over cities at set times each day. These red packets could be used to offset consumer spending. Initially, Lao Wang didn't pay much attention, thinking it was just another gimmick used by businesses. That was until he saw people in his neighborhood wearing AR glasses, running around downstairs like a group of madmen chasing fireflies.

He was once a popular idol, the prince charming in the hearts of countless young girls, the affectionate Zhong Tianqi in the TV series "My Lucky Star."

But now, he has become a suspect in a murder case, locked up in a cold prison. His past halo has long faded, leaving only endless darkness and remorse.

Old Wang has recently become obsessed with "inner strength" courses.

It started when the company organized a "corporate culture" training session. The main speaker was a so-called spiritual mentor, who spoke eloquently on the stage: “People with inner strength should have a positive attitude, embrace change, not be afraid of challenges, and dare to take responsibility...”

Old John, a retired firefighter, habitually sat on the porch of his small cabin at the foot of the mountains in the evening, gazing at the distant peaks. Today, the sky was an unusually deep red; it wasn't the sunset glow, but a wildfire. Since that "redirected" fire, he had been watching like this every day, a nameless feeling always weighing on his heart.

Autumn in Los Angeles, even the air is burning.

The wildfires are like runaway wild horses, ravaging the edge of the city. On television news, the smoke billows, the flames lick at the hillsides, a scene of the apocalypse.

Old Wang paced back and forth in front of the express station, constantly rubbing his hands together, sweat beading on his forehead. This was the third time this week he had come here, all for two boxes of yogurt.

Two weeks ago, his wife, Xiao Li, a housewife who was keen on making friends online, suddenly told him that she needed to send two boxes of yogurt to a "friend from afar." "He's been very caring to me," Xiao Li explained, "He even taught me how to post food videos on short-video platforms last time."

Old Wang works in a cannery, which sounds a bit ridiculous, right? But he really is in a cannery, and his daily job is to put miniature sections of railroad track into specially made cans.

When he first entered the factory, he thought it was a joke played by some immature kid. Miniature railroad tracks? What use could they possibly be other than as a springboard for mice? On the first day, he couldn't help but laugh out loud at his colleagues on the assembly line, which earned him a scolding from the foreman, who said he was disrupting production order and deducted his pay for the day. From then on, Old Wang dared not laugh again.

Wang Meilin's fingers trembled slightly as she typed the express delivery tracking number into her phone. Two boxes of yogurt, or rather, "special supply" yogurt worth 125,000 yuan, were about to fly thousands of miles to her "boyfriend," a man she had never met.

Old Wang was once again sitting on an empty waiting chair in the hospital, he was used to it. Ever since the notice "Imported drugs withdrawn from public hospitals" was posted, the place had become eerily quiet. In the past, it was crowded with anxious patients and their families, the air thick with the smell of disinfectant and unease, but now, only the cold wind whistling in the corners and Old Wang's heavy breathing could be heard.