Bleached Life

Old Wang has been troubled recently. Not because of the year-end bonus, nor the performance evaluation, but because his "color" is not pure enough.

He is a middle-level manager at a large internet company, wearing a suit and tie every day, entering and exiting high-end office buildings, looking glamorous on the surface. But Old Wang always feels that there is still some "impurity" left on him, like a white shirt that hasn't been washed clean, with a few yellowish-gray patches, especially noticeable under the light.

This "impurity" stems from his past. Old Wang was born into an ordinary working-class family and has come this far through his own efforts. He used to squeeze onto buses to save money, eat instant noodles while working overtime, and argue with colleagues until his face turned red for a project. These experiences, while shaping his tenacious character, also seemed to leave indelible marks on him.

In the company, everyone is pursuing an extreme kind of "bleaching." Whether it's their speech and behavior or their attire, they strive for perfection, like meticulously photoshopped pictures, without a trace of flaw. Some people spend heavily on luxury goods to appear more "elite"; some actively participate in various social events to fit in; and some don't even dare to speak their hometown dialect easily in order to maintain their "purity."

Old Wang also began his "bleaching" journey. He replaced his plain black-framed glasses with fashionable rimless lenses; he no longer talks about his past experiences, but instead tries hard to learn all kinds of high-end industry jargon; he even started exercising, sweating on the treadmill every day, just to make himself look more energetic and confident.

However, he found that the process of "bleaching" is like applying thick paint to an old piece of clothing, covering up the surface flaws, but not changing its essence. He felt more and more like a prisoner trapped in a white cage, losing his personality and soul.

One day, the company organized team-building, and everyone came to a farmhouse in the countryside. There were many native chickens in the farmhouse. These chickens were originally grayish, but after being washed with a special detergent by the farmhouse owner, their feathers turned snow-white, looking like moving white fluff balls from afar.

Looking at those "bleached" native chickens, Old Wang suddenly felt a sense of inexplicable fear. He thought of himself, who, like these chickens, had changed his own color in order to meet a certain standard. He suddenly felt a deep sadness. His life, his efforts, seemed to have turned into a futile performance.

At dinner, the owner brought out a plate of boiled chicken. The chicken meat was tender and white, and the skin was smooth. Old Wang picked up a piece and put it in his mouth. The taste was very bland, even a little tasteless. He suddenly asked the owner, "Why are these chickens so white?"

The owner smiled and said, "They are washed with chemicals. If they aren't white, people from the city won't like to eat them."

Old Wang silently put down his chopsticks. He looked at his other colleagues at the table, eating with relish, and felt his stomach churning.

After dinner, everyone played truth or dare. When it was Old Wang's turn, he drew a "bold confession" card. Everyone cheered and encouraged Old Wang to confess his love to a female colleague present.

Old Wang looked around, suddenly stood up, walked to the wall, pointed to a stain on the wall, and said loudly, "I love this stain! I love its authenticity, I love its imperfection! Because it has not been bleached!"

The whole place was silent.

Everyone looked at each other, not knowing what Old Wang was going crazy about.

Old Wang smiled slightly, turned around and walked out of the farmhouse, disappearing into the night. He knew that he could no longer return to that "bleached" world. He was going to find his true color, even if that color was not so perfect.

The next day, Old Wang submitted his resignation. He did not choose to return to his hometown, nor did he choose to seek another job. Instead, he went to a small shop that specializes in recycling old objects. He began to learn how to repair those forgotten and discarded items, giving them new life.

He no longer pursues "bleaching" but pursues authenticity. He understands that life is like an old object, and imperfection is its charm. And those hidden "impurities" are precisely the meaning of its existence.

A few months later, a former colleague happened to meet Old Wang on a street corner. Old Wang was wearing plain work clothes, with a calmness and happiness he had never had before. He was bent over, carefully wiping an old mirror covered in grime.

The old colleague curiously walked over and asked, "Old Wang, what are you doing here?"

Old Wang looked up, smiled, and said, "I'm giving them a bath, helping them restore their original state."

He pointed to the mirror. Reflected in the mirror was Old Wang's face, marked by the passage of time, yet shining with the light of authenticity.

Looking at Old Wang's smile, the old colleague suddenly understood that some people, even if "bleached," can never erase the color in their bones. And those who dare to embrace their imperfections can ultimately find their true selves.