Gold Chain Alienation

The thick gold chain around Zhang Wei's neck, once a totem of his sense of security, now felt like a cold fetter, tightening its grip with every plunge of the gold price on the screen, restricting his breath inch by inch.

It was last year, when the price of gold was soaring, breaking one historic high after another, that Zhang Wei joined the frenzy. He wasn't wealthy, just a hardworking middle-aged man scraping by in the city, having saved up some hard-earned money. Seeing his neighbors, colleagues, and even the grannies doing square dancing talking about gold, the anxiety of "losing out if you don't buy now" spread rapidly like a virus. It was a typical individual choice amidst the tides of the era, as described by Wu Xiaobo—less rational investment, more a panic hedge against an uncertain future, coupled with a faint hope for upward mobility.

He used almost all his savings, amidst the hesitation of his family and the dissuasion of friends, to buy this heavy gold chain. The moment he put it on, he did feel an unprecedented sense of "security." It wasn't just a symbol of wealth, but more like an amulet, capable of warding off the erosion of inflation, providing a stable anchor point in a volatile world. Walking down the street, he could feel the glances from passersby, a mixture of envy, speculation, and even a hint of awe. This feeling, more than the cold numbers in his bank account, soothed his heart, weary from the toil in the urban jungle.

However, market logic never bends to individual will. After the feast, there's often chaos. "Gold price drops again"—these words pricked Zhang Wei's eyes like needles. At first, he could console himself: it was just a technical pullback, a "golden pit" (a chance to buy low), a good opportunity to add more. Like countless trapped retail investors, he started studying K-line charts, following every speech by the Federal Reserve, trying to find evidence in the complex information that the gold price could make a "kingly return."

But reality was harsh. The gold price, like a runaway train, headed straight down. Every drop felt like a knife cut to Zhang Wei's heart. Then, something stranger started happening. He began to feel that the gold chain around his neck seemed to take on a life of its own.

At first, it just felt colder. The icy touch, pressed against his skin, made him shiver even in the heat of summer. Later, he felt the chain become heavier, weighing down on him, making his neck ache, as if carrying the weight of the world's disappointment and anxiety. He began to rub it frequently, trying to warm it with his body heat, to lessen its weight, but to no avail. The chain remained cold, heavy.

Later still, he even felt the chain was shrinking. Especially late at night, as he stared at the refreshed, abysmal gold price on his phone screen, he would clearly feel the chain, like a venomous snake, slowly and inexorably tightening, pressing against his carotid artery. He would jolt awake, gasping for air, reaching for the chain on his neck, only to find it was the same size. Yet the feeling of suffocation was so real, lingering.

This was a typical Kafkaesque predicament. External economic pressure internalized into an inescapable, concrete physical torment. The gold chain, the object once symbolizing hope and security, had become completely alienated, transforming into the physical embodiment of his anxiety, an inescapable instrument of torture. Perhaps, as Liang Wendao might say, this is an extreme manifestation of the alienation of humans by objects in modern society. We try to possess wealth, only to end up possessed by it, even distorted and consumed by it.

Zhang Wei's life was completely held hostage by this gold chain and the numbers it represented. He became withdrawn, his gaze vacant, losing interest in everything around him. He made frequent mistakes at work, and conversations with his family became tense and explosive. His wife urged him to sell the chain, to cut his losses, but he stubbornly refused. "Wait a little longer, it will go back up," he muttered to himself, his eyes staring blankly into the void, as if waiting for a Godot who would never arrive.

He didn't dare take off the chain. Not just because he was unwilling to accept the loss, but because of an inexplicable fear. He vaguely felt that the chain had somehow fused with him, grown into him. If he forcibly removed it, he might lose not just money, but a part of his soul—even though that soul was already corroded beyond recognition by anxiety and fear.

People in the neighborhood started noticing the change in Zhang Wei. The man who once seemed somewhat spirited, perhaps even a bit proud, wearing the thick gold chain, was now always hunched over, his eyes evasive. The gold chain still glittered in the sun, but its gleam seemed harsh, almost menacing. People whispered among themselves that his investments had failed, that he'd lost a lot of money. That was probably true, but no one knew that what Zhang Wei was experiencing was far more than just financial loss.

He had become a man captured by gold. Every morning upon waking, the first thing he did was touch the chain on his neck, then check the gold price on his phone. Those cold numbers dictated his mood for the entire day, even his state of being. He was no longer Zhang Wei; he was just a walking price tag, a prisoner tightly bound by the gold chain.

On a night when the gold price plummeted again, Zhang Wei sat alone on the balcony. The city's neon lights lost their color in his eyes. He looked down at the gold chain on his chest, gleaming with a cold, eerie light in the moonlight. He reached out, wanting to undo the clasp that had once made him so proud, but his fingers trembled uncontrollably. The sense of suffocation washed over him again, stronger than ever before.

He suddenly remembered what the gold shop owner had told him the day he bought the chain: "This chain has good symbolism, it locks in wealth, locks in peace."

Now he understood. It did lock something in. But not wealth, nor peace, but himself.

He was trapped inside this glittering metal loop, unable to move, like a speck of dust lost in the economic tide, silently acting out an absurd drama of wealth, desire, and alienation. The distant city remained bustling, telling countless stories of opportunity and risk, while Zhang Wei's story was just one insignificant, yet chilling, footnote. He and his gold chain sank together into the abyss of price fluctuations, and into the fog of existence.