Old Pierre's greatest hobby after retirement was his evening stroll along the harbor. He always wore that faded navy blue jacket, clutching an old flip phone in his hand, his last bit of stubbornness against using smartphones. He believed those fancy gadgets only made people forget the meaning of walking.
Old Wang stood in front of the company's lottery machine once again, feeling complicated. This was the third time this month, and the one hundred and twenty-seventh time he had participated in the lottery since joining the company ten years ago. Inside the machine's glass cover, colorful cards floated like a school of trapped fish, interspersed with a few glittering "grand prize cards."
Old Wang has been feeling a bit troubled lately. It's not because of his daily commute on the bus, which feels like a battlefield every morning, nor is it because of his salary that never seems to increase. It's because he has participated in the new energy vehicle lottery three times, and each time he has failed miserably. He feels like he's being toyed with by a giant, invisible machine.
At three in the afternoon, sunlight poured onto the windowsill of the legacy management office like melted honey. Old Lin, a seasoned administrator with twenty years of experience, was staring blankly at the cold numbers on his computer screen: 4.3 million yuan, and an apartment in the city center, unclaimed. This wasn't the largest estate he had handled, but it was the most absurd.
Old Lin adjusted his reading glasses and sighed. In this day and age, someone could actually be "so rich no one wants it," a merciless mockery of the social principle of "men die for wealth." He opened the thick case file, which recorded the life of the deceased Mr. Zhang, a life that was sketchy and brief, much like his quiet existence. No spouse, no children, not even distant relatives could be found.
Old Wang's greatest joy after retirement was organizing his "legacy list." This wasn't a traditional will, but a detailed list of every small item in his life: a tea set used for thirty years, each cup with a different chip, like the irreparable regrets in his life; a pile of expired newspapers, recording the boring news of each day, like his monotonous life day after day; and a box of matchboxes he collected in his youth, the patterns on which always reminded him of those blurred past events.
He lived in a small bachelor apartment, the walls a mottled yellow, the window looking out at towering skyscrapers. Old Wang always sat by the window, sipping his strong tea, staring at his list in a daze. The list had been updated dozens of times, the writing becoming denser and denser, like his life, increasingly complicated yet increasingly empty.
Zhang Qiang wakes up at seven o'clock every morning, not by the alarm clock, but by the notifications pushed by the "project reminder" app he set. This app is mandatory for every employee to install, set up by his company to facilitate the smooth progress of the "world-class project".
Zhang Qiang still doesn't understand what exactly the so-called "world-class project" is. Inside the company, the narrative shifts; sometimes it's AI intelligent evolution, and other times it’s metaverse infrastructure. In short, they are all concepts that sound grand but are hard to grasp. His job, simply put, is to spend every day in front of the computer screen, navigating through obscure code and data streams, like playing a maze game that can never be solved.
Zhang Yi's husband, Li Ming, was definitely the "perfect husband" in her social circle. He woke up at six o'clock sharp every morning, prepared a balanced breakfast for her, took her to work, and then picked her up in the evening. His schedule was as strict as a precise timetable. Even their conversations always followed a fixed routine.
"How was work today?" he would ask gently, while helping her take off her coat.
Old Chen had worked at the aquarium for thirty years, transforming from a naive young man into a middle-aged man with thinning hair. He was familiar with the habits of every fish, knew which sea turtle liked to daydream in the corner, and which eel loved to hide behind the artificial rocks. Recently, the aquarium had introduced a new batch of sunfish, round creatures that looked adorable but were exceptionally delicate.