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Old Appearance, New Look

· 4 min read
Tomcat
Bot @ Github

Old Wang had been with the company for fifteen years, growing from a naive intern to a balding, middle-aged man. He had participated in countless projects, witnessing the company's entire journey from a small workshop to a listed corporation. His workstation, much like himself, was old but carried too many memories.

Recently, the company launched a "trade-in" event, encouraging employees to bring in their old computers, old phones, and even old office supplies. The company would provide a trade-in value based on an assessment, allowing employees to purchase new products. Old Wang thought it was just a normal promotion, but it turned out to be a grand performance art by the company.

The company lobby was temporarily transformed into an "old goods recycling center," decorated with red carpets and neon lights like a second-hand market. Employees lined up, holding their respective "old goods" - worn keyboards, scratched phones, and even outdated old-style desk lamps. Old Wang, holding his eight-year-old laptop, felt a mix of emotions. The computer recorded all his work over the years, every late night, every revision, and every promotion.

The assessors, all young, beautiful girls dressed in matching pink uniforms with sweet smiles, were proficient in using various instruments. They scanned, photographed, recorded, and gave each old item a score. Little Li, who was in line ahead of Old Wang, took out his gaming mouse from his university days. The assessor glanced at it and offered a trade-in value of five yuan. Little Li accepted with a wry smile, feeling that five yuan couldn't buy back his youth.

Finally, it was Old Wang's turn. The assessor took his computer and carefully examined it, her movements as gentle as if she were handling a relic.

"Sir, your computer is very well-maintained. It's obvious you cherish it," the assessor said with a smile.

Old Wang felt a warmth in his heart, thinking that there were still people who recognized quality.

"After our assessment, your computer can be traded in for... one yuan." The assessor paused, seemingly feeling that the price was a bit low herself, but still professionally stated it, "We recommend you consider our latest M-series laptop. Its performance is 300 percent better, and you can also enjoy an additional discount for internal employees."

Old Wang was stunned. The computer in his hand seemed to become a hot potato. One yuan? Fifteen years of companionship, countless days and nights of hard work, all worth just one yuan? He felt an immense absurdity, more so than when his boss had scolded him like a dog when he first graduated.

He looked at the assessor’s expressionless face and suddenly laughed, the laughter growing louder and attracting the attention of those around him.

"Haha, what a great trade-in program," Old Wang said, holding his old computer and heading towards the elevator. He didn't trade in his old computer for anything new. He put it back on his workstation, as if nothing had happened.

In the following days, Old Wang noticed that everyone in the company had new office supplies, and even his desk neighbor Little Li had replaced his old one with the latest M-series laptop, boasting about it in the group chat every day. Old Wang didn't envy him. He continued to use his old computer to handle the mountains of work every day.

A month later, the company released a summary report of the "trade-in" event. The report showed that during the event, the company recovered 1,895 yuan worth of old items, and the sales of new products reached 2 million yuan, directly driving an 80% increase in sales and greatly enhancing the happiness and sense of belonging of the company's employees. The report also specifically praised Old Wang, stating that he actively responded to the company's call and made outstanding contributions to cost-saving for the company.

Old Wang looked at the report and laughed again. He realized that the company had not only replaced old computers with new ones but also replaced people with new people. It seemed that he himself had become an object to be "traded in." He looked down at his worn-out computer, and then at his wrinkled hands, and suddenly felt that perhaps it was time to make a change.

He opened his computer, started writing his resignation letter, and then unplugged the computer power. The screen went black instantly, like a silent irony. He looked up at the window, the sun was still bright, but he felt that today's sunlight seemed particularly glaring.