Bleaching

Old Wang had worked at the "Color Harmony Promotion Center" for fifteen years. His workstation, much like himself, was always in a state of gray. The center's main responsibility was to "bleach" or "deepen" the public's perception of colors based on social sentiment reports. To put it bluntly, it was about using various methods to make people "see" the colors they wanted them to see.

Recently, the center's operations had been unusually busy. Old Wang had to process thousands of "color adjustment requests" every day. Today, his task was to change the public's impression of "gray" from "depressing" and "mediocre" to "serene" and "noble."

He turned on his computer, skillfully manipulating various software. On the screen, countless "gray" entries surged like a tide. He had to replace them all with synonyms for "serene" and "noble," and then use algorithms to spread them across major social media platforms.

"Old Wang, hurry up, the new targets for today are here," the team leader urged, "the higher-ups said that 'gray' must be thoroughly whitewashed today! It's best to make people think that gray is synonymous with fashion, the trend of the future!"

Old Wang mechanically tapped on the keyboard, his fingers feeling numb. He knew he was like a machine, programmed to execute without question. He had once tried to resist, writing "gray is reality" in a submitted report, which resulted in criticism from his superior, who called his ideas "backward and in need of deep reflection."

A "knock, knock, knock" interrupted Old Wang's thoughts. A new intern walked in; her name was Xiao Li, and she carried a naive air.

"Mr. Wang, excuse me, does gray really represent 'serenity' and 'nobility'?" Xiao Li asked curiously.

Old Wang looked up at Xiao Li's clear eyes and suddenly felt a long-lost pang. He pointed to the computer screen and said in a calm tone, "Of course, this is the work of our center, and it is the need of society."

Xiao Li didn't seem satisfied with the answer, and she continued to ask, "But, I think gray sometimes represents melancholy and sadness too?"

Old Wang smiled, a bitter smile, "Child, you're still young. You'll understand once you've been here longer. Colors are not what you see them to be; they're what the higher-ups want you to see."

Xiao Li was stunned, seemingly struggling to digest Old Wang's words.

In the following days, Xiao Li would ask Old Wang questions about "colors" every day. She asked why blue sometimes represented melancholy and sometimes hope; why red sometimes represented joy and sometimes danger. Old Wang began to feel annoyed. He thought Xiao Li was like a program bug that constantly questioned things, disrupting his established order.

Finally, one day, Old Wang had enough. He called Xiao Li into the office and said sternly, "Xiao Li, stop asking. This isn't kindergarten. You need to learn to accept reality. Our job is to change people's perceptions. You don't need to think too much, just execute."

Xiao Li lowered her head and didn't speak. Old Wang assumed that she finally understood, and a feeling of relief rose in his heart.

When it was time to get off work, Old Wang packed his things, ready to go home. He reached the door and suddenly noticed Xiao Li still standing there, her figure looking particularly lonely in the setting sun.

"Mr. Wang," Xiao Li said softly, "I suddenly think that gray might actually be quite beautiful."

Old Wang was stunned for a moment. He looked at Xiao Li, saw a glimmer of light in her eyes, as if a faint lamp had lit up in the endless gray. He suddenly felt a strange panic. He wanted to tell Xiao Li that she was wrong, that the essence of gray was not beauty, but emptiness.

However, Old Wang ultimately said nothing. He just nodded and then left in a hurry.

The next day, Old Wang arrived at the office and found his workstation empty. Xiao Li had disappeared, leaving no information behind.

The team leader told him that Xiao Li had resigned, and before she left, she had left a letter. The content of the letter was simple, just one sentence:

"I've decided to go find the real colors."

Old Wang looked at the letter, feeling empty inside, as if he had lost something important. He turned on his computer again. The screen was still filled with countless "gray" entries, but this time, he felt an unprecedented sense of bewilderment. He realized that he wasn't just bleaching other people's colors, he was also bleaching his own heart. He looked up and out the window. The sky was still gray, without a single bright color.