Kowtow Universe

Old Wang was forced to kowtow. He didn't want to, being over fifty, his knees as hard as rocks. Kneeling on the cold bluestone was a form of torture. But the entire village, no, the entire county, seemed to be engaged in a large-scale "kowtowing performance art."

The line stretched from the village entrance to the village end, and from the village end extending to the main road of the county town, seemingly endless. People were dressed in their new festive clothes, but their faces carried a strange numbness. Old Wang recognized a few familiar faces; their eyes were empty, as if controlled by some invisible force. The line moved slowly, each step accompanied by a dull "thud," the sound of heads hitting the ground, like some ancient sacrificial ritual.

At first, Old Wang counted in his mind: one kowtow for wish fulfillment, two kowtows for wealth accumulation, three kowtows for family health. But he quickly gave up. The line was too long; the number of kowtows was endless, and so was the fortune. He even began to wonder if this fortune was really gained through kowtowing, or just to increase taxes for some people?

Ahead of him was a fashionable young man, wearing headphones, who was also kowtowing rhythmically. He couldn't help but ask, "Young man, do you believe in this?"

The young man took off his headphones and glanced at him, his eyes as if looking at a prehistoric creature, "Uncle, this is called new year, new atmosphere, you know? And kowtowing earns points, which can be exchanged for things on the app, and even participate in a lottery, the top prize is a new energy vehicle!"

Old Wang was stunned. He thought kowtowing was an expression of respect for elders, of expectation for the new year. He never imagined it had become a points activity. He was somewhat dazed, feeling like he was in a huge game hall, where everyone was "farming dungeons" to earn virtual points.

He silently continued to kowtow, feeling sharp pains in his knees. He suddenly thought of his son, who was thousands of miles away, working in the city. He heard his son was also "clocking in at work," getting up early and returning late, for points, for performance, for higher titles. Old Wang suddenly felt that both he and his son were kowtowing; it's just he was kowtowing on the ground, while his son was kowtowing in front of a computer.

The line moved slower and slower. Some people began to complain, others began to whisper. Old Wang heard someone say that this year, kowtowing could get red envelopes. As long as you uploaded a video of you kowtowing to the "Kowtow Universe" app, you could get different amounts of red envelopes. Old Wang thought, this is a really good idea, you can kowtow and make money, it’s a win-win.

He took out his phone to record a video of himself kowtowing. At this moment, he found that everyone around him was looking at their phones. Some were nodding and bowing to the screen, while others were even bowing to the air. Old Wang asked in confusion, "What are you all doing?"

Someone answered, "We're kowtowing to the leaders of the Metaverse. They said kowtowing can increase your status in the Metaverse."

Old Wang was shocked, what happened to this world? Kowtowing, no longer a sign of respect for people, had become a tool for game points, red envelopes, and even raising status in the Metaverse. He felt like he was in a giant absurdist theater, everyone wearing masks, speaking insincere lines, and endlessly kowtowing.

Suddenly, the line stopped. The people ahead began to stir. Old Wang tried to look ahead, he saw at the very front of the line, there was a huge screen, on which was displayed a virtual Buddha statue, smiling as if appreciating this kowtowing farce.

The subtitles below the screen scrolled:

"Welcome to the Kowtow Universe, the more you kowtow, the more blessings you get. Please continue your efforts to contribute to creating a better virtual world!"

Old Wang finally understood, the object of their kowtowing was not a person, not a god, but a giant, cold, virtual Buddha statue made up of data. He looked around at the people, still mechanically kowtowing to the screen, as if they had completely lost their self-awareness.

He suddenly felt an indescribable sadness. He silently put away his phone, without recording any video, without participating in any "kowtow activity." He turned around and walked out of the line against the flow of people.

He decided to go and see the outside world. Maybe there are still some places where you can find true happiness without having to kowtow. But he didn't know if such places still existed. And on the screen, the virtual Buddha's smile was still kind and eerie.