Who Moved My Gold and Silver?

Before retiring, Old Wang rented a safety deposit box at a bank and put all of his family's heirloom gold and silver into it. He always felt uneasy keeping these items at home, believing it was more secure in the bank. He carefully read the safekeeping contract three times; the bank's seal was a vivid red, and his name was neatly written as the depositor.

After retiring, Old Wang's greatest pleasure was visiting the bank every few days to check on his "treasures." He wouldn't even open the box; just standing in front of it and touching the cold metal door made him feel secure. But one day, when Old Wang came to the bank as usual, he couldn't turn the key in the lock. He was stunned, a fine sweat broke out on his forehead, and his heart leaped into his throat.

Bank staff arrived and struggled for a long time, but to no avail. Finally, accompanied by several bank managers, Old Wang was invited into a VIP reception room.

"Mr. Wang, please don't worry, we'll investigate it right away," a manager in a suit said politely.

"My gold, my silver..." Old Wang wrung his hands anxiously, his voice trembling slightly.

The manager waved his hand with a smile, "Mr. Wang, rest assured, our bank's security measures are very comprehensive, absolutely nothing will go wrong."

An hour later, the investigation results came out. The manager looked solemn and stammered, "Mr. Wang, it's like this... the things in your safety deposit box... are gone."

"Gone?!" Old Wang jumped up from the sofa, "How could they be gone? What kind of bank are you?"

The manager handed over a piece of paper, "Mr. Wang, this is the investigation report, please take a look."

Old Wang took the report, which was filled with technical terms. He only understood the last sentence: Upon investigation, the items in the safety deposit box, due to the bank's system upgrade, have been deemed "unclaimed precious metals" according to Article 3.2 of the "Customer Items Self-Storage Agreement" and will be "reutilized" by the bank.

Old Wang was completely dumbfounded. He remembered that there was indeed such a clause in the contract. At the time, he thought it was a disclaimer from the bank, and he had just glanced at it and signed it. Who would have thought that the things he stored in the safety deposit box would be "reutilized" by the bank?

"Then where are my things? My gold and silver?" Old Wang asked, pressing further.

The manager still smiled but with a touch of formulaic indifference in his tone, "Mr. Wang, according to the regulations, after the 'unclaimed precious metals' are reutilized, they will be converted into equivalent bank points and credited to your account."

Old Wang pulled out his phone, opened the bank app, and indeed, there were a few thousand more points in his account. These points could be used to redeem tissues or discounted items in the supermarket.

He looked at the points on his phone screen and suddenly laughed. The laughter grew louder, full of despair and irony, and Old Wang's laughter echoed throughout the VIP reception room.

Walking out of the bank, Old Wang felt like a puppet performing in an absurd drama. He looked at the sky; the sunlight was dazzling but brought him no warmth. He thought of the empty boxes at home, a mixture of feelings in his heart.

In the evening, Old Wang had just returned home when the doorbell rang. He opened the door and saw several young people in bank uniforms, carrying large packages in their hands.

"Hello, Mr. Wang, this is the bank's compensation for you," the leader said with a smile. "To thank you for your support of our bank, we have carefully selected the products after the 'reutilization', as well as some special gifts."

Old Wang took the packages, opened them, and it turned out to be a set of glittering golden bank mascot ornaments, as well as a pile of plastic bags, tissues, and laundry detergent printed with the bank's logo. He picked up a golden ornament and examined it closely. The workmanship was rough, the color was tacky, and it looked no different from the stuff sold at a two-dollar store on the street.

He held the ornament up to his eyes, and through the cheap gold, he seemed to see his heirloom gold and silver that had been "reutilized." He smiled, his smile full of helplessness and bitterness. He suddenly realized that the most valuable things in this world may not be the visible and tangible gold and silver, but those that we easily give up, yet are infinitely precious, such as... the right to be informed.