After retiring, Old Wang became obsessed with "cloud travel." His greatest joy each day was sitting in his flight simulator, wearing VR glasses, and pretending to travel around the world. One day, as he was "flying" over the Pacific Ocean and comfortably adjusting his virtual seat angle, the system suddenly popped up a red warning – "Hazardous item detected: suspected firecracker, please report immediately!"

Old Wang was stunned. He took off his glasses, looked around his empty room, and then looked at the pixelated firecracker with sparks on the screen. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He wondered, in this day and age, is even the virtual world so serious?

Old Wang runs a small gold shop. Nowadays, who even buys gold? The busiest time in his shop is when the garbage collector passes by in the morning, taking a glance at the dull gold ornaments in the window. But recently, the price of gold has skyrocketed like a rocket, yet Old Wang's shop has become even more deserted.

He couldn't understand it, until Xiao Zhao, a tech enthusiast from the coffee shop next door, explained the concept of "quantum gold" to him. It is said that this new type of gold is not a metal in the traditional sense, but rather, through some quantum technology, consciousness and data are encrypted and stored in a microscopic structure. It can achieve various incredible functions, even curing diseases and prolonging life.

Old Wang was the sole lucky winner of the "Year-End Lucky Koi" at the company's annual party. He didn't win a BMW, nor did he win cash. Instead, he won a "New Year Limited Experience Post" – a "Spring Festival Folklore Special Envoy."

The duties of the "Special Envoy" sounded grand, but in reality, during the Spring Festival holiday, he was to carry out a series of "holiday atmosphere creation" tasks according to the company's issued "Folklore SOP." When Old Wang saw the task list, he almost laughed his false teeth out: On the first day of the Lunar New Year, send "New Year red envelopes" to the company group, and attach a picture of dumplings; on the second day, participate in the "Cloud Temple Fair" and live-stream clay figurine making at a designated location; on the third day, collect "Fu" characters and post them inside the company; on the fourth day, perform "God of Wealth Arrives" and dance square dancing in the live broadcast room; on the fifth day, send "Breaking Five" blessings in the company group, and attach a self-compiled "Breaking Five" jingle.

On the altar table where Old Wang's family enshrined the Kitchen God image, the dish of maltose candy, carefully made, was gone.

It was the fourth day of the Lunar New Year, the day to welcome the Kitchen God, and this candy was the key to persuading him to "speak good words in Heaven and bring back blessings." Old Wang was in a panic, pacing back and forth in the room like an ant on a hot pan.

Li Jianguo held his small stool as if he were holding an old comrade about to go to battle. The cinema entrance was crowded, with most people carrying folding chairs, small stools, and even someone pushing a stroller with a low stool sitting securely on top. Ever since the old cinema in the county launched "seatless tickets," going to the movies had become a performance art.

Li Jianguo was a copywriter at a small advertising company in the county, writing nonsense like "Buy one get one free, don't miss out" every day. His life was as square and plain as this stool. After learning about the cinema's bizarre rules, he had a subtle expectation. Perhaps, behind this absurdity, there was some unspoken meaning.

Old Wang squeezed into the crowd, like a crumpled sugarcane husk. He was wearing his faded costume, embroidered with dragon and phoenix patterns that looked particularly comical under the sunlight. Today was the opening ceremony for "The Gods 3," and he was still playing "Extra A." Old Wang was no stranger to this role; he had been "Extra A" for ten years, a "living fossil of Hengdian," as he put it.

Today's opening ceremony was particularly lively, with the lead actor Yu Shi in attendance. Old Wang remembered this young man vividly; he had been present at the "fairness" incident that had caused such a stir a few days ago. Yu Shi's fans had made a huge fuss online, protesting the unfair treatment by the production crew. Old Wang had thought at the time that these young people were truly outspoken, unlike the older folks who had had their edges worn smooth and were too lazy to even complain.

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 Liu's alarm clock is always five minutes faster than others. It's not that he deliberately set it that way, it's just that it's fast on its own. This problem has been with him for several years, he can't fix it, and he's too lazy to fix it anyway. Today is the third day of the Lunar New Year, the day for visiting relatives. When Old Liu's family was ready to leave, he habitually glanced at his watch, it was exactly ten o'clock in the morning.

"Let's go, it's already this late," his wife urged. Old Liu thought, it's almost ten o'clock, if they don't hurry, they'll miss the lunch at Old Li's place.

Li Daqiang opened a restaurant called "Fumanlou" in the county town. This Spring Festival, he launched a New Year's Eve dinner package for 2888 yuan a table. He originally just wanted to create a gimmick, but unexpectedly, it sold out like crazy.

　　Old Wang, carrying his rusty little stool, skillfully squeezed into the only cinema still operating in the county. He wasn't there to collect recyclables, nor was he there to join the crowd; he was there to watch a movie. Since the cinema introduced "seatless tickets," he had already come three times.

　　A piece of red paper was posted at the cinema entrance, with thick black characters stating: "Movie Viewing Notice: In response to the national call to conserve resources, this cinema now offers seatless tickets. Please bring your own bench." The handwriting was crooked, like a primary school student's casual scrawl. Old Wang thought the writing was much like the "No Peeing" sign posted in front of his house – meant for people to see, yet not really meant for them.