Spring-Dodging Guide
Old Li, a diligent programmer at his company, had recently felt like a wind-up toy, repeating the same code, the same routes, and even the same coffee-drinking posture every day. But this year's Start of Spring was a little different. The company issued a notice that, in response to the "dodge spring" initiative, all employees would have a day off.
Old Li didn't quite understand what "dodging spring" meant at first. Later, through various push articles and WeChat groups, he gradually realized that dodging spring was to avoid clashing with "spring" on the day of the Start of Spring, which was said to ward off evil and eliminate disasters. Although Old Li found it a bit superstitious, the company had requested it, and he couldn't do much about it.
"Spring-Dodging Guides" flooded the internet, with various theories and claims. Some said to hide in a wardrobe, others said to wrap oneself in a quilt like a rice dumpling, and still others said to stand facing a corner for punishment. Old Li found these methods too cumbersome, so he decided to have a good day's sleep at home.
On the day of the Start of Spring, Old Li closed the curtains and buried himself under the covers. He originally thought it would be a quiet day, but he was kept awake by various knocks on the door. First, it was the delivery person, bringing a "spring-dodging talisman" he had ordered online yesterday. Then, it was the community staff, delivering a "warm reminder for dodging spring" and a pack of "avoid-spring tea."
Old Li finally managed to send them away, thinking he could finally have some peace. However, a "ding-dong" sound started coming from downstairs. He went to the window to look, only to find that the community was holding a "creative spring-dodging competition." People were dodging the intrusion of "spring" in all sorts of bizarre ways. Some were dancing in plastic bubbles, while others were singing inside cardboard boxes.
Looking at the lively scene downstairs, Old Li felt like he was the one who didn't fit in. He decided to join the "spring-dodging" carnival. He pulled out an old raincoat from the closet, put on a comical hat, and rushed downstairs.
The atmosphere in the community was lively. Everyone was sharing their spring-dodging experiences and voting on whose method was the most original. Old Li was also welcomed. People looked at his peculiar attire with curiosity and encouraged him to perform a show. Old Li was a little embarrassed, but seeing everyone's happy faces, he decided to go all out. He started dancing his own improvised "spring-dodging dance," his movements exaggerated and comical, making everyone laugh heartily.
Just as Old Li was getting into the swing of things, the community's loudspeaker suddenly went off. A mechanical voice said: "Attention residents, please do not engage in any form of 'spring-dodging' activities during the Start of Spring. This is to avoid unnecessary gatherings and potential risks. Please stop all activities immediately and rest at home."
The crowd in the community fell silent instantly, and everyone looked at each other, not knowing what had happened. Old Li also stopped dancing, his raincoat and hat looking particularly ironic. People slowly dispersed, returning to their homes.
Old Li returned to his room and opened the curtains. Sunlight streamed in, warm and comforting. He went to the balcony, looking at the empty scene in the community. He suddenly realized that he had never truly escaped "spring." It was present in every knock on the door, every push notification, and even every meaningless activity. The effort to avoid "spring" ultimately entangled him in its vortex. What he was trying to escape was also what he could not escape.
He looked out the window, the Start of Spring sunlight shining on him. He smiled, a smile tinged with bitterness, helplessness, and a faint sense of release. After all, in this world, where can one truly escape, no matter how much one tries to dodge?