Bleaching Night

Old Wang had worked at the "bleaching" factory for twenty years. This wasn't a laundry factory; it was an institution dedicated to serving humanity. Every morning, he would see batches of "faded" humans being brought in. Some had their memories erased due to work errors, others had their emotional experiences wiped away due to relationship problems, and some simply wanted to restart their lives like a blank sheet of paper.

The "bleaching" process was very simple, like re-coloring an old photograph, except the subject was a person. They were taken into large white chambers, and with a slight electrical hum and the low whir of machinery, it was all over.

Old Wang's job was to monitor these chambers from the control panel, ensuring everything ran smoothly. Like an experienced captain, he navigated an endless ocean of data, understanding every nuance, every fluctuation in the current.

This particular night, it was Old Wang's turn to work the night shift. Outside, the industrial area was silent, with only distant chimneys emitting faint white smoke. Everything was as calm as usual. Bored, he flipped through the work logs on his desk.

Suddenly, he noticed an anomaly in one of the chambers' data. Chamber number 713 exhibited irregular energy fluctuations, like a struggling soul. He frowned, opened the monitoring screen, and saw the person inside clutching their head in pain, as if fighting some powerful force.

Old Wang found this strange. He immediately checked the system logs, discovering that the "bleaching" process for that chamber had already finished. Theoretically, the person inside should have lost all their memories. But what he was seeing was clearly not the case.

Cautiously, he opened the chamber door. The "bleached" person slowly raised their head, their eyes clear and bright, without a trace of emptiness or confusion. This filled Old Wang with alarm.

"Who are you?" Old Wang asked quietly, his voice trembling slightly.

"I am... I don't know," the person shook their head, their eyes filled with confusion, but quickly, that confusion turned to anger: "I just remember, I don't want to be bleached!"

The words hit Old Wang like a lightning bolt. Looking at this person, he finally realized that the so-called "bleaching" wasn't about erasing memories, but about locking a person's "self" in an invisible cage, then re-creating them as a "standard person" conforming to social norms.

"Run!" Old Wang suddenly sensed the danger. He grabbed the person's hand, pulling them from the chamber. "Run! Don't let them catch you!"

The two ran quickly through the empty corridor, the alarm sirens piercing the air behind them. They ran towards the back door of the factory, where there was a small gap.

They ran out of the factory and into the darkness.

Old Wang had never felt so free. He turned to look back at the factory, the massive white building resembling a sleeping beast in the night.

"What do we do now?" the person asked, panting slightly.

"I don't know," Old Wang replied, his tone both bewildered and relieved. "But at least we are not bleached people anymore."

Suddenly, a black car pulled up in front of them. The door opened, and a person in uniform stepped out, holding a remote control. They pressed a button, pointing it at them.

Old Wang and the person both felt a sharp dizziness, and everything began to blur.

They seemed to be back in the chambers, lying on cold slabs.

"Everything starts again," the uniformed person said, their voice devoid of any emotion.

The next morning, Old Wang appeared at the control panel as usual, flipping through the work logs. Everything was normal, and everything from last night was like a dream.

He just had a vague feeling that he had forgotten something.

He continued to monitor each chamber as usual. The "bleached" people, like blank sheets of paper, walked out of the factory. Their faces bore standardized, unremarkable smiles.

Old Wang also smiled.

Then, he suddenly noticed, on the monitor for chamber 713, a familiar figure appeared. The person’s eyes were clear and bright, with a hint of mocking smile on their lips.

Old Wang froze, and the pen in his hand fell to the ground.