Red Envelope Rain Night

Old Wang, wearing a pair of glasses polished to a shine, sat on his creaky rattan chair. It was New Year's Eve, the sounds of firecrackers rose and fell outside the window, but inside, it was eerily quiet. He stared at his phone screen, which was densely populated with pop-up notifications for various red envelopes.

"Ding—ding—ding—"

It was like some kind of death knell. Old Wang sighed, his eyes looking even more clouded beneath his reading glasses. It wasn't that he hadn't participated in the red envelope craze before. In previous years, he'd tapped his fingers rapidly on the screen to snatch those few cents worth of "Happy New Year" greetings, just like the younger generation. But this year, he suddenly found it all pointless.

The Spring Festival Gala was playing on the television. This year, it was said to have more technological content. Celebrities were performing in virtual worlds, and red envelopes were presented in even more dazzling ways. Old Wang felt like the festivities had nothing to do with him. Those flashing numbers on the screen were just strings of cold characters in his eyes.

His son, celebrating the New Year in a different city, had also sent a red envelope. Old Wang opened it; it was exactly 88 yuan. The note read: "Dad, Happy New Year, take care of yourself." Old Wang looked at it, didn't reply, and simply transferred the money into his account.

Suddenly, a huge red envelope popped up on his phone screen, with the words "JD.com New Year's Eve Super Lucky Draw." Almost involuntarily, Old Wang tapped on it. The page was designed with a gaudy, dazzling display of winning messages scrolling by. He participated casually, as there was nothing else to keep him company on this New Year's Eve besides his phone.

"Congratulations! You've won the 'New Year's Luck' Grand Prize! A JD.com E-card worth 10,000 yuan!"

Old Wang was stunned, thinking he might have misread it. He rubbed his eyes and carefully confirmed it again – it was real! A 10,000 yuan JD.com E-card? Old Wang was a bit bewildered; how could such good luck have fallen on him?

Following this, his phone screen was completely flooded with "red envelope rain". Various "celebrity red envelopes", "blessing red envelopes", and "lucky red envelopes" emerged endlessly, as if a virtual currency storm was raging on his screen. Old Wang began to feel like he wasn't celebrating the New Year, but rather participating in a frenzied digital game.

He hesitantly opened one; it was Chen Zheyuan's red envelope, worth 0.12 yuan. A crowd of people were replying frantically below, "Thank you, brother! Love you!" Old Wang smiled and opened another one; it was Bai Lu's, worth 0.08 yuan. These young people, going crazy for a few cents, it was insane.

Old Wang tried to exit WeChat and open a news app. The news was filled with words like "Spring Festival Gala spectacle", "celebrity New Year greetings", and "technological innovation". He felt like all of this was far removed from his reality. He was like an old, discarded machine, watching the world rapidly spinning in ways he couldn't comprehend.

He began to feel dizzy, the numbers on his screen twisting and turning into rotating vortexes. He seemed to see countless hands reaching out to the screen, grabbing for those cents and dimes. The faces of the people became blurry, leaving only a frenzied pursuit of the numbers.

At this moment, he saw a news item: "Multiple applications have been filed for the DeepSeek trademark." Old Wang didn't quite understand what it meant, but he had a vague feeling that there was a deeper logic hidden behind it. Were these red envelopes flying everywhere, perhaps, like this new "DeepSeek," about to be controlled by some invisible hand?

"Bang—"

A loud explosion came from outside the window, startling Old Wang. He suddenly stood up, stumbling to the window. He looked up, and the sky was illuminated by colorful fireworks. The fireworks were beautiful, like blooming smiles. Yet Old Wang suddenly felt as if these fireworks were also vying to grab someone's attention, just like those frenzied red envelopes on his phone screen.

He felt as if he had been placed in a grand digital festival. Everyone was worshipping the screens, while real life was forgotten in the corner.

He slowly groped his way to the bed, lay down, and turned off his phone. The room fell silent, with only the faint sounds of firecrackers outside the window. Old Wang looked at the ceiling and suddenly noticed small numbers appearing, like dense stars, twinkling, jumping, extending infinitely. In a daze, he saw that those numbers had turned into red envelopes, falling from the sky, covering everything, completely submerging him. He smiled and closed his eyes.

The next day, Old Wang was found dead in his bed, a strange smile on his face, his hand tightly clutching his phone, the screen frozen on the JD.com lucky draw page. After an investigation, the police concluded that he had died of a sudden heart attack.

No one knew that on the night Old Wang died, his 10,000 yuan JD.com E-card was automatically cleared, used to purchase the latest smartphone. And this new phone, on the very same New Year's Eve, began to frantically push out red envelope pop-ups.