Li Weiming clutched the first-class boarding pass, ripped in two, standing in the bustling departure hall of Lijiang Airport, feeling like a joke discarded by the times.
As an executive at a multinational corporation, he was a frequent flyer, and first class was practically his second office. He was accustomed to priority check-in, priority boarding, priority everything – "priority."
Old Li was gone, suddenly gone, just because he'd exchanged a few words with his neighbor, young Wang.
Old Li works as a zookeeper in an amusement park in Zibo, specifically, a "zebra" zookeeper.
Of course, Old Li knows very well that he is not raising zebras, but donkeys. Five gray-looking donkeys with long ears.
"Congratulations, you've won 1 million!" Lottery station owner Old Wang's voice was loud, buzzing in Grandpa Li's ears. The rows of red numbers on the scratch-off ticket in Grandpa Li's hand seemed to be dancing, flashing dazzling light.
Grandpa Li was a retired teacher who had dedicated his life to teaching and educating people, accustomed to a life of modest means. One million? He never thought he would have anything to do with such a large number in his life. He trembled as he held the lottery ticket, his palms drenched in sweat.
"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 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.
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 Li was jolted awake by his phone alarm early in the morning. He struggled to sit up, feeling as if he had just woken up from a long nightmare. Outside the window, it was gray, and even the sunlight seemed to have lost its festive vitality. On the phone screen, unread messages displayed identical blessings, all saying "Happy New Year" and "Full of Good Fortune." He mechanically replied, his fingers sliding across the screen, but his heart felt empty.
He was a mid-level manager at an internet company, and his usual forte was breaking down complex projects into actionable steps, then running them efficiently like a machine. But now, he found himself as if he had also become a machine set by a program, with the daily task of outputting "good fortune."
Old Wang, with a stopwatch in hand, confirmed that he had been working continuously for twelve hours, three minutes, and twenty-seven seconds. He stared at the densely packed code on his computer screen, the jumping characters resembling ants mocking him, never stopping, never tiring.
The news of triple pay for overtime during the Spring Festival was like a shot of adrenaline, piercing the pre-holiday slump in the company's morale. Everyone was like a wound-up toy, mechanically operating in the office. Old Wang was no exception. It wasn't that he didn't yearn to go home, but the temptation of "triple" was just too great. He had to pay off his mortgage, buy gifts for his parents, and enroll his child in tutoring classes; all of which required money, a lot of money.
Li Ming never expected that his casual wish on Taobao would actually come true.
That day after work, he was, as usual, squeezed into the subway, like a sardine in a can. The crowding, the noise, the smell of sweat, and the endless fatigue tormented him day after day. He suddenly had a thought, an absurd thought, but perhaps in this kind of life, absurdity was the only true solace. He opened Taobao and wrote in the wishing pool: I want a bus.