Old Jack was a mechanic in the Air Force before he retired. In his lifetime, he had seen all kinds of fighter jets, and he was used to their deafening roar. But recently, something happened that made him feel a little strange.

A few days ago, the most advanced US military fighter jet crashed during a training mission. This wasn't anything new, because plane crashes happened from time to time. But the strange thing was that the Air Force headquarters had issued a ban, prohibiting all military personnel and their families from watching and spreading any videos about the crash.

Old Li tightened his thermal suit. The HUD screen on his helmet displayed the "Deep Space Express" logo and the package number he was delivering today: DS-742. The cold wind blew across the few sparse whiskers he had recently grown on his face, bringing a stinging sensation. He muttered, "This damn weather, when will it ever end?"

He was in a city that had been transformed beyond recognition by technology. Towering metal buildings resembled cold, monstrous beasts, and the air was filled with a faint odor of disinfectant. There were no cars on the ground, only automatic skateboards and aerial tracks, while Old Li was riding an old electric scooter, which looked out of place.

Old Wang was a typical "corporate slave," spinning like a top in his cubicle every day. His biggest dream was to go on an impromptu trip, even if it was just to the neighboring county, it would be better than facing the computer screen every day.

One day, as usual, Old Wang was scrolling through his phone when a pop-up appeared: "Fliggy discount airfare, global flights from 100 yuan!" He rubbed his eyes, thinking he had seen it wrong.

The fireworks on New Year's Eve were more dazzling than ever before. Programmer Li Ming squinted, his fingers flying across the screen. He wasn't working overtime; he was decoding.

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, at exactly six in the morning, Zhang Wei was awakened by his phone ringing. It wasn't the alarm; it was the endless "Happy New Year" and "Full of Blessings" messages in the WeChat group. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he opened his phone. The company group was filled with festive cheer. The boss took the lead, and everyone sent red envelopes, paired with the sentence, "New year, new atmosphere, full of blessings for the whole year."

Zhang Wei grabbed a few red envelopes, totaling less than five yuan. He sighed. Although he knew it was routine, seeing everyone echoing the boss and sending flattering messages like "Boss is generous, we will do our best in the new year," he still felt a wave of nausea.

When Old Zhao woke up, he found an "invisible bracelet" on his wrist.

Li Ming had recently been feeling a little off in his neck, as if a small lump had grown there. It didn't hurt or itch, but it always felt a bit unsettling. He went to the hospital for a check-up, and the doctor said it was a thyroid nodule, benign, but recommended regular check-ups. Li Ming didn't pay too much attention to it; after all, who doesn't have minor health issues these days? Besides, he was busy trying to meet his quarterly KPIs.

Li Ming was an ordinary employee at an internet company. His daily routine involved staring at a computer screen, typing code, revising plans, and attending meetings. The company had a strict KPI assessment system, with monthly targets. Failure to meet them resulted in deductions from performance bonuses, and consistently ranking at the bottom for several months could lead to being laid off. Li Ming had always been conscientious, working hard to avoid falling behind.

The stage lights gradually dimmed, and the clamor of the Spring Festival Gala slowly dissipated. In the audience, scattered applause, like a faint tide, lapped at the edges of the enormous stage. Tonight, the most eye-catching were not the glamorous celebrities, but the row of precise and elegant robot dancers at the center of the stage.

They wore silver leotards, with joints that shimmered with a deep blue light. Every movement was the result of precise calculations, and every smile was as accurate as a ruler's markings. They completed their dance performance perfectly, cooperating seamlessly and flawlessly. The audience applauded their performance enthusiastically, as if they truly possessed souls.

Xiao Fang prepared a special gift for her mother for the New Year – kowtowing. Not just once or twice, but a whole eight hundred and eighty-eight times.

Xiao Fang's idea was simple. During the New Year, elders like to hear good words and see younger generations perform grand salutations. She felt that kowtowing was the most direct way to express filial piety. Moreover, she had learned from short videos that some places have the custom of giving red envelopes for kowtowing during the New Year, and the more kowtows, the bigger the red envelope.

Old Li set up his chess stall under the gazebo in the community park, relying on the small earnings to pass the time after retirement. The sun was nice today, and he had just set up when he saw a young woman pointing her phone at him, taking a barrage of photos.

"Grandpa, your chess stall is so creative!" the woman said with a giggle, revealing a row of even teeth.