Disappeared Algorithm

The streets were crowded, data streams flickering across everyone's retinas, precisely labeling each person's identity, interests, and spending potential. This was 2042, where algorithms ruled everything. Everyone was assigned an exclusive "life trajectory," from breakfast to partner, all efficiently planned by algorithms.

Li Ming, 28, a data engineer, maintained this system day in and day out. His life trajectory was perfect: stable job, comfortable apartment, and a 98% match recommended partner. Until one day, he discovered that his data stream had disappeared.

There were no more shopping recommendations, no commuting plans, not even his morning coffee preference could be read. He was like a ghost, wandering in this data-defined city. At first, there was panic. Then, there was a long-lost sense of freedom.

He began walking random paths, going to parks he had never set foot in before. There, he saw a girl, recording the patterns of leaves with a paintbrush. There was no data stream on her face, and her eyes were as clear as a transparent crystal. Her name was Lin Xi.

Lin Xi said that she had been allergic to algorithms since childhood and could only live in shielded areas. Her world was not about efficiency, but about feeling. Her paintings contained no data, only soul. For the first time, Li Ming felt like a real person, not an appendage of an algorithm.

They started dating in the corners of the city, avoiding data surveillance. He no longer went to work on time and stopped caring about ratings and rankings. He began to feel the temperature of the wind, listen to the city's hustle and bustle, and watch the colors of the sunset. These were experiences he had never had in his algorithm-defined life.

"This is true life," he said softly, cupping Lin Xi's face.

He thought that even if he returned to the control of the data stream, he would never forget this feeling. He was willing to pay any price for this freedom.

A month later, Li Ming discovered that Lin Xi's "allergy zone" was shrinking, and algorithms were beginning to seep in. He knew they had to leave.

"Come with me," he said to Lin Xi, "to a place without algorithms."

Lin Xi smiled, her smile as warm as the spring sun. "Li Ming," she said, "do you know that I don't actually have an algorithm allergy? I'm just an algorithm defect."

Li Ming looked at her blankly, not understanding what she was saying.

"I was designed to test the vulnerabilities of algorithms. Your data stream disappearing is because you are proof of my existence."

Lin Xi pointed to her wrist, where a string of cold digital code suddenly appeared. "And now," she said, "my mission is complete. Your freedom, too, is over."

His world was once again filled with data streams. He returned to his familiar life trajectory. He stood in his familiar office, becoming a cold machine once more. Only, occasionally in his dreams, he would still remember those clear eyes, and that brief but true freedom. He didn't know if it was something the algorithm had written for him, or something he had once possessed himself.