The “Blessing“ of 888

Under the overpass, in a teahouse, several old-timers sit around a table, sipping strong tea, cracking melon seeds, and chatting.

"Hey, did you hear? That guy spoke again, saying 996 isn't good enough, it should be 888!" Master Li takes a sip of tea, smacks his lips, his words laced with disdain.

"888? What the heck is that?" Master Wang leans in, his face full of confusion. "Worse than 996? These bastards, their hearts are completely black!"

"You bet!" Master Zhang slaps his thigh, sending melon seed shells flying. "Eight in the morning to eight at night, eight days a week! This is killing us common folk!"

"Eight days? Damn it, there are only seven days in a week, where's he gonna conjure up an eighth day for us?" Master Liu is a straightforward man, with a loud voice. His outburst startles the other customers in the teahouse.

"Hey, think about it," Master Li lowers his voice, saying mysteriously, "He's a 'representative,' can his words be the same as us ordinary people? He just moves his lips, and we have to run ourselves ragged!"

"What kind of nonsense is this!" Master Wang shakes his head, his face full of helplessness. "So those of us pulling rickshaws and pedaling tricycles, are we destined to work ourselves to death? He just moves his lips, and he can squeeze all our hard-earned money out?"

The teahouse falls silent, only a few sighs drift in the air.

"I say, are we just going to stand by and watch?" Master Liu breaks the silence, his eyes burning with fire. "We have to think of something!"

"Something? What can we do?" Master Zhang lets out a bitter laugh. "You can't twist an arm off a thigh. Can us little people fight with those 'representatives'?"

"But we can't just accept our fate!" Master Liu is anxious. "If they really implement 888, can we even survive? My two kids are waiting for me to earn money to support them!"

Master Li picks up his teacup, gently blows on it, and says slowly, "Accept our fate? When have we, the common people, ever accepted our fate? As the old saying goes, water can carry a boat, and it can also overturn it. If they push us too far, even a cornered rabbit will bite!"

"That's right!" Master Wang is also energized. "We can't just wait around! We have to find a way to let those 'representatives' hear the voice of us ordinary people!"

"I think we need to unite!" Master Zhang slams the table, making the teacups jump. "We can't let them think that we, the common people, are easy to bully!"

"Yes! Unite!" Several people say in unison.

The teahouse becomes lively again. The men discuss strategies, each contributing their ideas.

The sun gradually sets, and the customers in the teahouse gradually disperse. The old-timers also get up and go home.

Night falls, and the dim streetlights in the alley light up. Under the streetlights, several figures gradually walk away, disappearing into the night.

But who knows if these figures will stir up a storm in the near future? Who knows if this storm will change this day-after-day, seemingly endless "blessing"?

Who can say for sure in this world?

It's just that, this "blessing" of 888, just hearing it, sends chills down the spine and makes the heart panic. What exactly is hidden behind this "blessing"? Is it a brighter tomorrow, or a deeper, bottomless abyss? The hyperlink, if any, should not be modified.