The World of Bleaching

Old Wang had worked at the "Bleaching" Center for twenty years. His job was monotonous and mechanical: to thoroughly bleach various items delivered daily through complex procedures. These items varied widely, from old clothes and old furniture to broken electronics and even some "domestic waste" of unknown origin.

The Bleaching Center was located on the edge of the city, surrounded by endless white factories. Everything here was white: the walls, the floors, the work clothes, even the air was filled with a faint smell of bleach. Old Wang wore a white uniform every day, numbly operating the machines, his world gradually turning into a monotonous white.

This day, Old Wang started his work as usual. A black backpack, ordinary in style and slightly worn, came on the conveyor belt. Following the procedure, Old Wang opened the backpack and poured out its contents. Surprisingly, there were no old items or garbage, but a thick diary.

The diary's cover was deep blue, out of place with the surrounding white. Old Wang, as if possessed, opened it, revealing densely written words. The diary's opening line read: "I don't want to be bleached, I want to keep my color." Old Wang's heart jolted, this familiar yet strange feeling, as if it was a cry from his own depths.

In the following days, Old Wang would always secretly look through this diary. The diary recorded a young man's confusion about life, his helplessness towards reality, and his persistence in his dreams. He wrote: "This world is losing its color, everyone is forced to accept the unified white, becoming unoriginal copies." Old Wang felt inexplicable sadness, he remembered his own dreams when he was young, those colors that had been gradually wiped out by life.

He decided to do something.

Old Wang began to secretly hide small objects, like colored pens and small toys, in the pockets of his work clothes. These items seemed out of place in the "Bleaching" Center, but their existence made Old Wang feel a trace of comfort. He would occasionally take out these small colorful things, look at them for a moment, then quickly put them away. This secret became his only pleasure in his daily repetitive work.

One day, on the last few pages of the diary, Old Wang found a photo, showing a young boy with a bright smile on his face. On the back of the photo, written in slightly childish handwriting, was a sentence: "I will never be bleached!" Old Wang felt a pang of pain in his chest, he understood that this boy was likely the diary's owner.

Old Wang made a decision, he would save the diary and the photo, allowing them to escape the fate of being bleached.

He carefully hid the diary and photo in the lining of his work clothes, preparing to take them out when he got off work. He knew it was risky, if he was discovered, he could be fired, or even face more severe punishment. However, he decided to take a gamble.

When he got off work, Old Wang carefully avoided the surveillance and walked out of the factory gate. He looked back at this white world, and a complex emotion surged in his heart. He walked to a bench on the side of the road, sat down, took out the diary and photo from his lining, and carefully looked at them.

Just then, several people in white uniforms appeared in front of him, they looked at Old Wang expressionlessly, one of them said coldly, "Violation of the rules, privately keeping unbleached items, you must be punished."

Old Wang felt a wave of despair, but he still held the diary tightly, refusing to let go.

"Take him back and thoroughly bleach him," the leader said, waving his hand.

Old Wang was taken back to the "Bleaching" Center, he was forcibly stripped of his clothes and put into a brand-new white uniform. He was pushed into a huge bleaching chamber, filled with a pungent smell, he felt like he was gradually losing consciousness, he felt like he was turning into a white, soulless person.

Just as Old Wang was about to completely lose consciousness, he suddenly remembered something. He used his last strength to break free from his restraints, took something out from the lining, and held it up high.

It was a bright red thumbtack that he had secretly hidden in his pocket when he came to work today.

A piercing alarm sounded in the bleaching chamber, everyone was stunned.

In the pure white room, a red thumbtack appeared particularly abrupt, as if mocking this absurdity.

A few minutes later, Old Wang lay quietly in the bleaching chamber, his face peaceful, as if he had fallen asleep.

Old Wang was taken out of the bleaching chamber, he was wearing a brand new white uniform, like the other workers, he returned to his work station, and continued operating the machines, thoroughly bleaching various items delivered daily through complex procedures. Only no one noticed that among the items he bleached today, there was an extra, bright red thumbtack.