The Odd Taste of the 100 Yuan Standard Meal

At lunchtime, Zhang Qiang skillfully swipes his employee badge and walks into the brightly lit ByteDance cafeteria. A dazzling array of food is on display, each with an exquisite price tag, except for the plate in his hand—the 100-yuan standard meal, which is free.

This used to be a perk that countless internet workers envied: free, abundant, and high-quality. When Zhang Qiang first joined, he was also proud of it, feeling that ByteDance's generosity and strength were impressive. However, over time, he began to feel that something was amiss.

He noticed that today's soup was bland, the stir-fried vegetables were a bit dull in color, and the once-delicious braised pork had become dry and tough. The strangest thing was that recently, he could always smell a faint scent of disinfectant, not from the dishwashing sink, but from the food itself.

He tried to talk to his colleagues around him. Some scoffed, saying he was being pretentious, while others quietly agreed, saying that the food had indeed declined recently. But everyone quickly moved on to the next topic—algorithms, KPIs, and traffic. No one had the time to delve into these subtle changes.

Zhang Qiang decided to find the answers himself. He began observing the cafeteria's delivery process and discovered that every morning, unmarked refrigerated trucks would enter through the back door on time. These trucks had no company logos, as if they came from some mysterious supplier. He tried to approach, but was always politely turned away by security.

To uncover the truth, he even pulled up the surveillance footage, only to find that the cameras in the back door area would briefly "malfunction" at midnight. This deepened his suspicions. He began to feel uneasy about the food he was eating every day, and the smell of disinfectant seemed to be getting stronger.

To verify his suspicions, Zhang Qiang secretly took some of his lunch home and tested it with professional reagents he had snuck out from the lab. The results shocked him: the food contained trace amounts of industrial preservatives. Although the dosage was small, long-term consumption could seriously affect health.

Zhang Qiang was stunned. Was the benefit he was once proud of actually a wolf in sheep's clothing? He decided to report it, but when he opened the internal reporting channel, he found a system prompt: This report requires real-name submission and sufficient evidence. This made him hesitate. He was just an ordinary programmer with elderly parents and young children to support. He couldn't risk his job.

He looked out at the towering office building, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He thought that perhaps this was the alienation of the modern workplace. People had to swallow everything, including the food that had gone bad and the silent truths, in order to survive.

The next day, Zhang Qiang still took his 100-yuan standard meal and walked into the cafeteria. The dishes were still bland, and the disinfectant smell was even stronger, but he was surprisingly calm. He picked up his plate, walked to a corner, and slowly began to enjoy this "free" lunch.

After finishing his meal, instead of returning to his workstation as usual, he walked straight to the back door. He gently pushed open the normally closed door, and what he saw wasn't the dark and dirty scene he had imagined, but a conveyor belt leading to the city center.

On the conveyor belt, one after another, programmers just like him were being transported to an unknown destination. Their faces wore numb smiles, and they held their employee badges tightly in their hands, as if clutching at a lifeline.

Zhang Qiang also slowly stepped onto the conveyor belt. He knew that this was the real "free" lunch, leading to the unknown, but also irresistible. He recalled a job posting he had seen yesterday: Our company is now hiring "taste correctionists" at a high salary. Requirements: Familiarity with various industrial additives and a deep understanding of the human taste buds.

He suddenly felt that he might also need to switch careers.