Little Fatty was holding the pocket money he had saved for half a year, ten yuan, wrinkled and sweaty, as if it was a treasure just dug out from under his pillow. He walked to the donation box, tiptoed, and carefully slipped the money in.
“Thank you, little friend, you’re such a loving and good child!” The staff member, a middle-aged woman in uniform, praised him with a professional smile on her face.
Zhang Wei was a long-time employee of a company, working diligently for more than ten years, his hair turned white from overwork. But recently, he found that he couldn't understand the company more and more.
The new leader was a young man in his early thirties named General Manager Li. As soon as General Manager Li arrived, he carried out sweeping reforms. First, he launched a "Vitality Program," requiring everyone to dance and check in every morning, saying it was to improve team cohesion. Then he launched an "Innovation Competition" to encourage employees to come up with all kinds of "disruptive" ideas.
Old Li didn't manage to get a "Dedication Fu" this year. It wasn't that he didn't try hard enough, nor was it that his luck was too bad, but he discovered that this year, collecting Fu wasn't about "grabbing" anymore.
The courier station at the entrance of the residential area had become a temporary trading center for "Fu" characters. All kinds of "Fu" characters were printed out, bound into booklets, and openly priced. From "Harmony Fu" to "Patriotism Fu", there were even "knock-off" versions of "Dedication Fu". Old Li initially found it absurd, but later discovered that if he wanted to collect a complete set, this was the only way.
title: Washing Sins slug: 2025-01-20-xidi-zui keywords: [University Student, Hotel, Laundry, Absurd, Irony] description: A university student actually booked a room just to do laundry at a hotel. What kind of social truths are hidden behind this seemingly absurd act? authors: [yangshun] meta: University student criticized for “wool-pulling“ by booking a hotel room just to do laundry date: 2025-01-20 tags: [Society, Satire, Micro-fiction]
At six-thirty in the morning, before the alarm clock went off, Anqi was already awake. To be precise, it was her subconscious "short video alarm clock" that woke her up. She didn't even need to open her eyes to feel the vibration of the phone beside her pillow, a vibration like some invisible command, making her immediately reach out and light up the screen.
The familiar interface popped up, the brightly colored icons jumping on the screen like a group of excited little sprites. She opened TikTok, which had become almost the first thing she did every day, more important than brushing her teeth or washing her face. The first video pushed to her today was "2025's Trendiest Makeup," and Anqi skillfully followed the steps in the video, applying various colors of cosmetics to her face.
"Good morning, Xiao Li."
"Morning, team leader." Xiao Li rubbed her still-swollen nose and responded calmly.
Old Wang has worked at "Fresh Express" for five years, his daily job is to stare at piles of cherries in a daze. He is responsible for "preservation," a position that sounds grand but is actually extremely tedious. His daily task is to unload batches of freshly arrived cherries from refrigerated trucks, place them in special cold storage, and then mechanically record their preservation data.
Old Wang had worked at the courier station for five years and had seen all sorts of strange packages. But today's delivery truly opened his eyes. Two boxes of yogurt were sent by a girl named "Xiao Fang" to her online friend, "A Qiang." This was normal enough, but the "special packaging" sent shivers down his spine.
The packages were filled with dense layers of foam, wrapped like dumplings, with hand-written labels saying “Handle with Care” and “Fragile.” But what struck him as odd was that the shipping fee was a staggering 12,500 yuan.
Old Li has been having the same dream lately. In his dream, he stands in front of a massive iron gate, with countless drug names engraved on it, arranged like tombstones. In his hand, he holds a prescription for an imported drug that his son, who has a rare disease, urgently needs. The iron gate slowly opens, revealing a row of empty shelves with only a few white labels that read "Domestic Substitute." Old Li wants to rush in, but he's held back by an invisible force.
The red cherries, like agates, were crammed into the entire refrigerated truck. Old Wang drove carefully; the cherries were freshly picked from the port by his boss. Each crate was worth several thousand, and if they arrived late, their value would drop. He glanced in the rearview mirror, a red fire truck flashing its lights and emitting piercing sirens, closely tailing him.
Old Wang frowned, muttering, "Who's on fire again? What bad luck." He looked left and right, the road was narrow and full of cars, making it difficult to yield. Besides, who knows if some "drunk" was causing trouble again? There were news reports about people deliberately honking to scare others. Old Wang decided to wait a bit; what if it wasn't real?