Xiao Wang is an ordinary waiter at a hotpot restaurant in Shanghai. His life goal is to save enough money to open a small convenience store back in his hometown. But recently, he has been swept into an unprecedented workplace storm.

It all started when a new group of Korean customers came to the restaurant. The boss excitedly announced at the meeting: "Now is the time to seize the opportunity! I heard that Korean tourists like APT, we must keep up with the trend!"

Old Wang was a seasoned deliveryman at SF Express, shuttling through the city's concrete jungle every day, delivering all sorts of packages. Today, he had a special package in his hands. The recipient column read "Unknown," and the sender column read "Deceased Old Man Wang." The package was heavy, wrapped in thick kraft paper, and felt somewhat like a brick.

Old Wang has been working as a human standee at the company entrance for three days.

Not the kind wearing a cartoon costume, nor the one holding a billboard. He's just standing there in his wrinkled suit, motionless.

Old Wang got promoted.

Not to team leader, nor a small department manager, but directly in charge of a "world-class mega-project."

　　"Good morning, Xiao Li."

　　"Morning, team leader." Xiao Li rubbed her still-swollen nose and responded calmly.

Li Weiguo felt that he was increasingly becoming like an old computer, slow to boot, running sluggishly, and occasionally crashing. And now, the company has organized a team-building activity called "Sufficient Qi and Blood, Blessings for the Whole Family", forcibly pulling them, the group of constantly-spinning programmers, into the mountains, saying it was to "experience nature and replenish energy."

Old Wang retired, not gloriously, but "gloriously laid off."

The word "glorious," in Old Wang's life, was like a gilded nail, firmly hammered into the wooden board of his "life," emitting a harsh metallic scraping sound. He was once the pride of the entire unit, no, it should be said, the pride of the entire country—a model who received a First Class Merit in the army less than a year after graduating with a bachelor's degree. At the time, the publicity was overwhelming, and Old Wang's name was tightly bound to phrases like "promising young talent" and "role model of the times."

My mom called again, as usual, she started by asking about my health and then began to subtly inquire about my recent work. I stammered, mentally figuring out how to get around the phrase "world-class mega project."

This so-called "world-class mega project" is a joke. I, an ordinary programmer, my daily tasks are just fixing bugs, writing test code, and occasionally dealing with server errors. Where did this world-class mega project come from?

Wang Dachui's most anticipated moment each noon was opening his lunch box. Not because of the delicious food inside, but because a small piece of golden sandalwood would inexplicably appear.

Old Wang has been very busy lately, busy with "trade-ins." It's not that his old TV or refrigerator at home needs replacing, but as a member of the company's "trade-in" task force, he's busy helping other people "trade" their old things for new ones.

Old Wang's company is a large home appliance enterprise, and it established this task force specifically to respond to the national call for "trade-ins." Every day, Old Wang sits in his office, facing his computer screen, browsing through mountains of "old goods" information – old televisions, old air conditioners, old washing machines... The photos of these old goods are like crumpled faces, silently telling of their past glory and present decline.