Happy Year-End Bonus

Old Wang received a notice to collect this year's year-end bonus. He rubbed his hands, red with cold, thinking that the company had done well this year and the boss might be feeling generous.

In the office, besides Old Wang, there were nine other colleagues. They looked at each other, guessing the amount of their respective bonuses. The manager walked in with a beaming smile, carrying a huge black plastic bag in his hand.

"Everyone, you've worked hard all year!" the manager cleared his throat, his voice loud and clear. "This year, in response to the call of 'Going Home is Happiness,' the company has decided to give everyone a special year-end bonus!"

Everyone started whispering, assuming it would be a big gift package. The manager opened the plastic bag, revealing a pile of colorful plastic toys, including toy cars, plastic dolls, water guns, and some loose building blocks.

"What's this?" someone couldn't help but ask.

"This is your happy year-end bonus!" the manager said affirmatively. "Our company is responding to the call, not giving out money, but happiness instead!"

Everyone was stunned and looked at each other. Old Wang, looking at the plastic dinosaur in his hand and the plastic toys held by his other colleagues, felt a sense of absurdity welling up inside him.

"How... how do we use this?" a young colleague asked cautiously.

The manager smiled even more happily: "Of course, you take it home for your children to play with! Isn't that the happiest thing?"

Silence fell over the office. Everyone knew that their children were already in high school, and some had even graduated from college. These plastic toys, for them, were nothing more than useless plastic trash, without any meaning.

Old Wang looked at the plastic dinosaur in his hand and then at his colleagues. A nameless bitterness surged in his heart. He suddenly realized that perhaps from the beginning, he had not understood the true meaning of "happiness." He silently put the plastic dinosaur into his old briefcase, squeezing it among his worn-out contracts and work notes, feeling like they were from two different worlds.

At the company entrance, a bus with a "Go Home for the New Year" slogan was parked there, with a small line of text printed on the side: "Happiness is not material, but a joyful heart." Old Wang looked at the bus, feeling a sense of disorientation.

Instead of going home, he went to the old goods market at the corner of the street. He skillfully found a stall, the owner of which was an old man with gray hair.

"Old man, take a look at this," Old Wang said, handing over the plastic dinosaur.

The old man took the dinosaur, turned it over and over, and then used a magnifying glass to examine it carefully. "Hmm, the condition is okay, I'll give you five yuan for it."

"Five yuan? This is the happy year-end bonus our company gave us." Old Wang laughed, a very helpless laugh.

"Happiness?" the old man also laughed, a smile with a hint of worldly experience. "Young man, happiness isn't worth much."

Old Wang took the five yuan, and a jolt went through his heart. He suddenly realized that the old man’s seemingly casual words might be the real truth. Those slogans, those calls to action, those imposed "happinesses," were merely tools of self-deception.

He turned and left the old goods market, not like his other colleagues, crowding onto the "happy" bus, but walking alone into the depths of the brightly lit city, feeling incredibly relieved. He felt that perhaps these five yuan were his most real and practical year-end bonus this year. He would use this five yuan to buy a bottle of Erguotou liquor to reward himself for the year's hard work. Perhaps, this was his own "happy year".