"Welcome to the Spring Dodging Agency, what level of spring dodging service do you require?" The receptionist's voice was unnaturally sweet, as if it had been modified by AI.
I looked around, this so-called "agency" was more like a finely decorated coffee shop, except that the walls were covered with different styles of "spring dodging kits," ranging from simple plastic raincoats to fully enclosed space capsules, with price tags that were staggering.
Li Ming was muttering to himself as he walked into the "Spring-Dodging Services Co., Ltd." that these days, anything could become a business. The company wasn't large; a withered wintersweet plant sat on the front desk, and the wall was adorned with large red characters that read "Suitable for Dodging Spring, Auspicious for Everything," giving off a festive yet eerie vibe.
The person who greeted him was a young woman with gold-rimmed glasses, whose smile was professional and formulaic. "Hello, what kind of spring-dodging service do you require?"
The alarm clock shrieked, dragging Lao Wang out of his dream. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he glanced at the electronic calendar on his bedside table – the fifth day of the Lunar New Year. Today, he was destined not to sleep in for even a minute, as he was a deliveryman, and his task for the day was to deliver "Fortune Gods."
The cinema lights were dim, and the air was filled with the sweet, cloying scent of popcorn. I walked into Hall 3 and found a few people scattered across the seats, each staring blankly at the screen. On the screen, the familiar Ne Zha was once again wielding his Fire-Tipped Spear, roaring the line, "My fate is up to me, not the heavens."
Old Chen's greatest pleasure after retirement was not enjoying his grandchildren, but researching "dressing formulas." He firmly believed that everything in the world had its own rules, and dressing was no exception. Ever since he saw the "perfect pairing formula for skirts and shoes" on a short video platform, Old Chen had become obsessed.
The formula stated that an A-line skirt paired with white sneakers was a symbol of youth; a pleated skirt with Mary Jane shoes was the epitome of elegance. Old Chen memorized these formulas by heart and even made them into exquisite cards, which he stuck all over the walls of his house.
"Job Opening: Senior Emotion Experience Specialist, no age limit, no gender limit, no education limit, the only requirement: extreme aversion to current social rules and the ability to internalize it into daily emotional expression."
This job posting was stuck on the glass door of the Human Resources Department, the ink still wet, carrying the warmth of just being printed out. Zhou Lin stared at it for three minutes, his fingertips worn pale, but ultimately he couldn't bring himself to push open the door.
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.
Master Wang, a veteran chef who has been in charge of the Geely cafeteria for thirty years, was recently transferred to a new department - the "Galaxy E5 Dumpling Filling R&D Group." He found the name strange, but he didn't think much about it, after all, everything now emphasizes "technological innovation."
The new department's office was more like a small laboratory than an office. Various unknown instruments hummed, and people in white coats came in and out, holding not kitchen knives and spatulas, but test tubes and chips.
Old Wang was "optimized" again. This was the third time he received a termination notice from the artificial intelligence "Deep Blue." The first two times, he managed to find new jobs with his years of experience and a bit of "human touch," but this time, the entire industry was crushed by "Deep Blue's" algorithms, and the demand for human labor had almost dropped to freezing point.
"Deep Blue's" efficiency was too high, the code was written fast and well, and bugs were almost non-existent. Bosses no longer needed human programmers who made mistakes, slacked off, or took time off. Old Wang couldn't understand why, after working hard, burning the midnight oil, and nearly losing all his hair, he was being eliminated by a cold, unfeeling program.
Old Wang is a master of slacking off at work. He is proficient in all kinds of techniques, from browsing shopping websites to watching short videos. But recently, he's been a bit distracted. Because the company is holding a lottery with the theme of "Striving for a Better Life," the prize is a "Family Dream Fund" - 100,000 yuan in cash, which has forced Old Wang to temporarily abandon the pleasure of slacking off and devote himself wholeheartedly to the daily lottery.
The lottery process is simple. After clocking in for work each day, everyone automatically gets a lottery code. The company uses a seemingly intelligent system to randomly draw the winner. Every day, Old Wang stares intently at the computer screen, waiting for that lucky number to appear, like waiting for the lottery results. He thinks that with this 100,000 yuan, he could get a bigger house for his family and send his son to a better school.