The Truth Under the Nail Lamp

Xiaofang has been working at a nail salon for five years. She is most familiar with the colorful nail polishes and the nail lamp that emits a ghostly blue glow. Every day, she repeats the process of filing, coloring, and drying, her finger movements as precise as a machine.

The shop is a chain, and business is booming. There is a constant stream of customers, most of them young and beautiful, with a persistent pursuit of color changes on their fingertips. Xiaofang likes to see their satisfied smiles and hear their chattering about dreams, love, and fashion. Those fragmented sounds, like background music, accompany her through long workdays.

Recently, the store got a new batch of nail lamps. They are said to be upgraded models with higher power, faster drying speed, and more uniform gloss. The boss excitedly introduced them at the morning meeting, saying that this was to improve customer experience and to enable everyone to complete their work more efficiently. Xiaofang didn’t pay much attention; she just felt that these new lamps emitted a more glaring light.

After the new lamps were put into use, Xiaofang noticed that everyone's work pace had accelerated, and even the laughter had diminished. The customers came and went in a hurry, as if they were rushing to a show. The colors on their fingertips kept changing, as if they were in a silent competition. Xiaofang felt something was wrong, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

One day, an old customer came to get her nails done. She was a retired teacher who rarely got her nails done; her daughter had dragged her along this time. She looked at Xiaofang's busy figure and suddenly asked, "Young lady, don't you find it glaring to stare at this light every day?"

Xiaofang was stunned; it was then that she realized she had never really looked closely at the blue light. She examined the lamp carefully; it was like a monster with cold eyes, tirelessly emitting light. She felt her eyes start to swell and even ache faintly.

"It is a bit glaring, but I'm used to it," Xiaofang smiled and continued with her work.

"Used to it?" The old teacher shook her head. "Young people, what you are used to is not necessarily right."

Those words were like a needle, piercing Xiaofang's heart. She began to pay attention to the details around her. She found that the employees in the store, including herself, had become somewhat mechanical. They were like workers on an assembly line, with vacant eyes and numb movements. Their topics of discussion had also shifted from daily life to performance figures. They seemed to have forgotten that they were living human beings, not machines.

One day, while giving a customer a manicure, Xiaofang accidentally dropped a drop of nail polish on the lamp shade. She quickly grabbed a rag to wipe it off, but found that the nail polish wouldn't come off. Instead, it seemed to be corroded by the light, becoming sticky. She stared at the stain on the lampshade, a strange fear rising in her heart.

She began to search for information and found online discussions about the radiation from nail lamps. Although there were no clear conclusions, some people did complain about eye discomfort and worsening skin. She wanted to tell her colleagues about it, but she felt that they might not believe her. After all, they were already "used to it."

Xiaofang also began to observe the customers. She found that the girls with brightly colored nails also seemed to have become somewhat unnatural. Their smiles were no longer sincere, and their eyes were filled with anxiety. They constantly changed the color of their nails, as if searching for something missing.

One night, Xiaofang had a dream. She dreamed that she had become a fingernail, painted with various colors, and then placed under a nail lamp to be baked. The light was so blinding that she couldn't open her eyes. She screamed, trying to escape, but found herself unable to move.

When she woke up the next morning, Xiaofang felt unusually heavy. She looked at the blue light lamp and suddenly felt that it was no longer just a lamp, but a giant eye, coldly staring at her. She realized that she, like others, had lost herself in the light.

She made a decision. That day, she did not turn on the nail lamp as usual. She used the most primitive methods of filing and coloring. Customers felt that she had slowed down, and some impatiently urged her. But it felt as if she had gone back to the early days when she had just started, using her clumsy hands to carefully apply polish, feeling the warmth of her fingertips, and the smiles of the customers once again became warm. She looked at those nails, no longer as cold tools, but as a work of art full of emotion.

That evening, she packed her things and prepared to leave work. The lights in the store were still bright, and the nail lamp was still emitting blue light. She closed the store door, walked out onto the street, and looked up at the sky. The city lights were like a giant net, and she felt a deep sense of powerlessness. But she knew she would never let that little blue light steal the light from her eyes again.

She walked home, the streetlights emitting a warm glow. She felt lighter than ever. Then she saw a recruitment advertisement on the street, a newly opened nail salon was hiring, and the advertisement said that they use natural light and do not use any nail lamps.