The “Rush“ Life

Lao Wang felt that his life was like a wind-up toy, spinning every day to the tune of the "rush" bell.

He rode his dilapidated electric bike, weaving through the concrete jungle of the city. His bike basket was always filled with packages of all sizes, each with a bright red "rush" label. Lao Wang's ears seemed glued to the phone's speaker, the constant stream of urgent prompts like a rapid drumbeat, making his nerves tense.

As the end of the year approached, e-commerce was at its most frenzied. The frequency of "rush" orders had reached its peak. Lao Wang had to get up at six every morning, spinning like a top. Even meal times were timed. He even began to suspect that he had devolved into some kind of delivery-only machine.

He remembered a few years ago when he was still a regular office worker, sitting in his office, drinking coffee, and looking at the scenery outside the window. Back then, life seemed to have a touch of poetry. But since he was laid off, he had to pack up his dignity, label it "rush," and deliver it to each customer's doorstep in order to support his family.

Today, Lao Wang had a lot of "rush" items to deliver, and one package in particular had a label that was especially eye-catching - "Highest Priority, Deliver Immediately." This made Lao Wang's heart beat faster. He didn't dare delay, speeding all the way, and finally delivered the package to the customer before the deadline.

It was a young man wearing pajamas, with a tired face. He took the package and closed the door with a "bang" without even saying thank you. Lao Wang stood there, feeling like a discarded delivery box in the trash, empty and hollow.

He opened his phone to check today's delivery assignments, and found that there were several more "rush" items. He sighed and got back on his bike, ready to start the next round of rushing.

Suddenly, he felt his phone vibrate. He glanced at it and saw that it was from the HR department of his former company. The message was simple: "Lao Wang, our company is hiring delivery drivers recently, with room and board, and the five social insurances and one housing fund. Would you like to consider it?"

Lao Wang looked at this message and felt like he was watching an absurd play. He smiled wryly and moved his finger across the screen to reply: "Thank you, no need. I'm afraid I'm not fast enough to keep up with your 'rush'."

He turned off his phone, started his bike, and plunged back into the vast urban traffic. In his ears, the "rush" bell was still ringing incessantly. His figure, like a toy trapped in a wind-up mechanism, continued to spin, spin, seemingly without end.

He thought of the young man he had just delivered to, and a hint of curiosity arose in his heart. What exactly was in the package labeled "Highest Priority, Deliver Immediately"? Could it be more "rush" than his life?

He decided to take a risk. Taking advantage of a gap while delivering the next package, he found the community and secretly observed the young man.

Through the window, he saw the young man carefully opening the package. Inside was a delivery driver's helmet.

The moment the young man put on the helmet, Lao Wang saw him give a relieved smile. The young man's phone rang, and the screen displayed "New Task: Rush Delivery."

Lao Wang suddenly realized that in this crazily accelerating era, everyone has become a tool for "rush". And the so-called "Highest Priority" is nothing more than the beginning of the next "rush".

He looked up at the clouds floating in the sky and suddenly felt like he had really become a "rush" symbol, a spinning top chased by time and never stopping. There was an unspeakable sadness in his heart, as well as a hint of irony.

Perhaps this is the fate that everyone in this era cannot escape. And we are all running tirelessly in this game called "rush".