Who Moved My Bonus?

Old Wang is an old coder at the company, with more hair than code, but he has a good attitude, known as "Optimistic Old Wang." This year, the company's performance is good, and the year-end bonus is said to be very generous. Old Wang stared at his phone, waiting for the text message that would confirm his bonus payment. With a "ding," the message arrived, and Old Wang excitedly opened it, only to see it clearly state: Year-end bonus: 1.00 yuan.

"One... one yuan?" Old Wang rubbed his eyes, thinking he was mistaken. He opened it again, and it was still 1.00 yuan. He ran to the finance office and questioned Xiao Li, who was responsible for issuing bonuses. Xiao Li adjusted his glasses and said helplessly, "Old Wang, your year-end bonus isn't one yuan, it's '1.00 quantum unit of year-end bonus'."

Old Wang was bewildered, "What quantum unit? I've never heard of that before?"

Xiao Li opened his computer, and a complex quantum formula appeared on the screen. "This is the new algorithm the company released this year, and the year-end bonus has been quantized. Your year-end bonus is indeed 1.00 quantum unit, but it will jump between different states. Today, you might receive 1.00 yuan, tomorrow it might become 10,000 yuan, or even 100,000 yuan, or it might just disappear. Anything is possible, depending on your 'quantum state'."

Old Wang was dumbfounded; he had only seen quantum mechanics in high school physics textbooks. How had the year-end bonus become quantum too? He returned to his workstation, trying to understand this "quantum year-end bonus." He discovered that his "quantum state" seemed to be related to the moods of the company's senior management. Today, the boss was in a good mood, and his "quantum year-end bonus" showed 1,000 yuan; tomorrow, the boss was criticized in a meeting, and his "quantum year-end bonus" became 1 yuan. This was simply a Schrödinger's year-end bonus; without opening the account, you would never know if it was dead or alive.

Colleagues were also complaining. Some people had just received tens of thousands today, only to see it become a decimal point with eight zeros the next day. Some even received a negative number, due to "negative quantum energy overflow." The entire company was in panic; the first thing everyone did every morning wasn't to turn on their computers to write code but to open their phones to check their "quantum year-end bonus."

A week later, the company announced that due to the instability of the "quantum year-end bonus" system, it had decided to "temporarily" cancel it. Everyone once again received fixed-amount year-end bonuses based on their seniority and position. What Old Wang got was his due share, neither more nor less, but he felt empty inside, as if something was missing.

After the New Year, Old Wang returned to the company and found that the computer at his workstation had been replaced with a new model, with a line of small print on the keyboard: "Quantum computing, the future is here." Old Wang couldn't help but laugh, his smile filled with a trace of helplessness and mockery. He knew the company didn't intend to abandon this "quantized" thing. It was just a different way to continue tormenting them, these old coders. He opened the new editor and began to type code. A new year had begun, and he would have to start "working" for this absurd world again, he thought sarcastically.

Just then, his phone "dinged," and a text message popped up. Old Wang opened it, and it read: "Your quantum year-end bonus has been converted into a digital collectible. Please extract it on the blockchain." He clicked on the link, and a dynamic pixelated figure appeared on the page, holding a golden "1.00" digital badge, looking both absurd and ridiculous.

Old Wang closed the page and started writing code, the code dancing beneath his fingertips like a series of numbers being "quantized." He sighed; this world was becoming increasingly magical.