98 posts tagged with "Society"

Under the overpass, in a teahouse, several old-timers sit around a table, sipping strong tea, cracking melon seeds, and chatting.

Lin Chenxi stared at his badge, his brow furrowed.

The blue badge, once a symbol of glory and status, was now becoming transparent at a visible rate. A week ago, it was only slightly blurred around the edges, as if lightly erased by an eraser. Now, the company logo in the center was so faint that it was almost invisible, leaving only the name and employee number barely legible.

This world, it's getting harder and harder to understand.

Mama Wang sat on a small stool, picking over a bunch of spinach she had just bought from the entrance of the alley. The leaves were still covered with glistening water droplets, like eyes that had just been crying. Today was International Women's Day, but what did that have to do with Mama Wang? She still had to get up early, still had to serve the whole family, still had to haggle with the vegetable vendor for half a day over a few cents.

In Beijing's hutongs, there's never a shortage of stories.

Take this wall, for example. Bluish-grey bricks and tiles, pitted and uneven, it looks unremarkable. But its age is older than all the families living in this hutong combined. Since the Qing Dynasty, this wall has stood here, enclosing a Siheyuan, where a Manchu family surnamed Zhao once lived.

Li Ming felt like a locomotive abandoned by the times. He had once roared through the tunnel of youth, but now he was stuck on the rusty sidetrack of 35.

The moss in the corner, a dark, almost black green, like an unresolved knot of depression.

It's 2045, a year shrouded in both smog and information cocoons.

I'm sitting in my cramped rental room, refreshing the job website for the Nth time. On the page, titles like "Senior Short Video Emotional Blogger," "AI Mood Regulator," and "Metaverse Virtual Asset Appraiser"... these glamorous positions are like soap bubbles, shimmering under the screen's blue light, only to quickly burst.

The sky was just beginning to lighten. Grey light squeezed through the pathetically small window, casting a slanting glow on the corner of the wall. The paint was peeling badly, resembling the wrinkled faces of old people, silently telling the ruthlessness of time. This room, rather than a home, was more like a pigeonhole, so cramped it made one's heart race.

Old Li has been a little bothered lately.