Qualified Hair

Li Ming has been a little anxious lately.

To be precise, he's been anxious about a single strand of hair.

That morning, as usual, he was grooming himself in front of the mirror, preparing for another day at work. Suddenly, a silvery-white "foreign object" caught his eye. He rubbed his eyes and leaned closer to the mirror. No mistake, it was a white hair, stubbornly standing out among his black hair, like an out-of-tune note.

Li Ming is 35 years old, a prime age for career advancement. He works for an internet company that prides itself on being "young, energetic, and innovative." He knows that in this industry, "young" is not just an adjective, but an invisible "passport."

He carefully plucked the white hair, but the unease within him grew like weeds. He started paying attention to every strand of his hair, fearing the appearance of more "traitors." He even began researching various hair dye products, trying to nip the signs of "aging" in the bud.

The next few days, Li Ming lived in fear. He deliberately avoided eye contact with his colleagues, afraid that they would discover his secret of "no longer being young." He even began to suspect that he had been placed on the company's "optimization" list.

This anxiety reached its peak during a department meeting.

The theme of the meeting was the company's "youth strategy." Department Manager Liu stood on the stage, passionately explaining the company's future plans. He emphasized that the company would further increase its efforts to recruit young talent and build a team that was "full of vitality and daring to strive."

Li Ming sat below, on pins and needles. He felt as if every strand of his hair was being silently judged. He even had the illusion that Manager Liu's gaze was occasionally sweeping over the top of his head.

After the meeting, Li Ming was called into Manager Liu's office.

"Li Ming, how's your work performance lately?" Manager Liu's tone was gentle, but Li Ming detected a hint of something unusual.

"It's... it's okay," Li Ming's voice trembled slightly.

"Good, that's good." Manager Liu nodded, then changed the subject, "By the way, have you noticed anything about your appearance lately?"

Li Ming's heart sank. He knew this moment had finally arrived.

"Manager Liu, I..." Li Ming wanted to explain, but he didn't know where to start.

"Look at you, you're so young, how come you have white hair?" Manager Liu's tone carried a hint of reproach. "This won't do. Our company is building a 'youthful' brand image, and you'll affect the company's overall image like this."

Li Ming's heart completely froze. He never thought he would be defeated by a single white hair.

"Manager Liu, I... I'll pay attention." Li Ming lowered his head, his voice barely audible.

"Yes, that's the right attitude." Manager Liu patted Li Ming's shoulder. "Young people, you must always maintain a positive and upward-looking spirit, so you can go further in the workplace."

After leaving Manager Liu's office, Li Ming felt as if all his strength had been drained. He went to the restroom, looked in the mirror, and carefully examined his hair. He found that, in addition to the white hair that had already been plucked, there were a few more "escapees."

He took out his phone and searched for nearby barber shops. He decided to eliminate all these "unqualified" hairs.

Just then, he suddenly heard suppressed sobbing from the next room. He curiously walked over and found it was the company's receptionist, Xiao Fang.

"Xiao Fang, what's wrong?" Li Ming asked with concern.

Xiao Fang looked up, her eyes filled with tears, "Brother Li, I... I was fired."

"Why?" Li Ming was surprised. Xiao Fang was usually very diligent, how could she be fired?

"Manager Liu said... said my smile wasn't sweet enough," Xiao Fang sobbed. "He said my smile didn't fit the company's 'youthful' image."

Li Ming was stunned. He suddenly realized that his white hair and Xiao Fang's "not sweet enough" smile were not essentially different.

He silently walked back to his desk, opened his computer, and started writing his resignation letter.

He decided that he would no longer be anxious about these standards of "qualification." He was going to find a place that could accommodate his "unqualified" hair, a place where he could breathe freely.

He finished writing his resignation letter and looked out the window. The sunlight shone on his face, and he felt a long-lost sense of relief.

He suddenly smiled, a big, happy smile. He felt that he was finally "qualified."