Old Wang woke up from a coma, his mind feeling like freshly mixed cement, a complete mush. He remembered he was a firefighter, had rushed into a fire to save a child, and then, he couldn't remember anything else. The doctor said he suffered a concussion, his intellect had regressed to elementary school level. Fortunately, through rehabilitation, he had now recovered to high school level.
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]
The elevator doors opened, revealing a row of straight legs, all wearing black suit pants, reflecting the bright office lights. I, Li Ming, at 172 centimeters, barely squeezed into this forest where the average height was 180 centimeters.
This wasn't a modeling agency, but our company's routine morning meeting. Since the company introduced the "Project Excellent Height," all new male employees were required to undergo "height-increasing surgery." I hesitated at the time; after all, "breaking bones" sounded chilling. But HR's smile was gentle yet firm, "Mr. Li, this is not only for your career but also for the overall image of the company. We are pursuing the perfect height."
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 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.
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.
Zhang Qiang was the 9.6 millionth person to squeeze into the live stream. He stared at the scrolling IDs on the screen, his heart pounding. It was Huang Zitao's live stream, and the prize was said to be the latest limited-edition interstellar spaceship model. Zhang Qiang had upgraded his home WIFI to 10G overnight for this lottery, and his fingers were almost numb from tapping.
"Fifth time, still a busy signal," the governor's assistant murmured, his fingers gliding across the phone screen as if it were burning hot. "The president is probably busy," he added, his tone laced with a reassurance he himself didn't believe.